CHAPTER 26
Greg
It is almost impossible to pull myself away from Melissa. About an hour after I called Braxxon, we get the news that her mother didn’t make it. Holding her in my arms while she screams with pain and grief is heartbreaking. Knowing all too well how it feels like to lose your parent, the only one you have left, I know how her heart is suffering. I hold her tight and keep reminding her how much I love her and that I will find Cohen. With every tear and wail that comes from her body, my heart splits a little more.
When it finally becomes apparent that she isn’t going to be able to calm down on her own, we have the doctor admit and sedate her. She is resting peacefully when I bend over and press my lips to her lax ones.
I don’t want to leave her when I know she would need me the most, but what matters now is finding Cohen and getting him back safely in her arms. Neither of us would survive the hit that losing him would give us. With Izzy’s assurance to keep me updated, I make my way home to pack a bag and get to the airport.
By the time I land in Vegas, I have been awake for over twenty-four hours. No sleep is needed when you are running on pure fucking adrenaline and hope.
I walk out the doors into the desert sun and lock eyes with the man I’ve come to see.
Braxxon Breaker. In the flesh.
“Braxx,” I say, not even slightly ashamed when my voice catches. He looks the same as he did when we were both in our younger twenties and running through booze and women like there was no tomorrow. And those days, for me, there wasn’t. Fuck, it would be nice to see him without this cloud of shit. “Thanks for coming, brother.”
“Cage, don’t give me that shit. You call Breakneck, my ass be here in a heartbeat. Brothers, man, brothers.”
“Regardless, you’re here when you don’t have to be. You know what I’m asking and you still came . . . so that deserves my thanks.” Stubborn son of a bitch, now I remember what it was that connect us. “You remember Locke? Did what he does best, and got a general area that bitch took my boy. Not going to be easy, from what I can tell they’re hiding out right off the strip.” I watch his eyes to see if the information even fazes him. Not sure why I think it will, but I need to make sure he is down with what I need.
He shoves off the white van he’s leaning against and walks the few feet that separate us. He offers me a small smile, the rings in his lip flashing in the sunlight. “That general location, you know how many may be in there? I need numbers, brother. I work best with numbers.” His voice is flat, but laced with the heat I need, and the power that he will stand behind his promise. You call Breakneck and it is top priority. He needs his intel, but that doesn’t stop the confidence from coming through his tone loud and clear.
“Van,” I say and nod my head toward his ride. “Nice, Braxx, all we need is the bag of candy now.” He might have muttered asshole under his breath, but he walks around the back and slides into the seat.
“Van’s hot, no trace,” he offers when he settles in and waits for me to continue.
“Alright, Susan Wagner, age unknown and not important. Cohen Wagner, age three and my boy and target. Ann Matthews, sister to Susan and the only connection we have between Susan and Vegas. Male of unknown age is also with them. That bastard cut my woman’s mom up Braxx; that motherfucker suffers. I don’t think there is anyone else helping. This bitch is not stupid, but she isn’t smart either.”
“Alright, brother. Your kid, he might not take kindly to me. I hate to say this, shit I hate to say this, but you need to ride with. You feel me?” Like he even has to mention it. The only thing that is keeping me going right now is the thought that Cohen will be in my arms soon.
* * *
We head off towards an area near Naked City; from what Coop has told me, this area is high in crime, drugs, and prostitution, your typical urban setting, with small apartments, clustered shit-holes, and some 7-Elevens sprinkled in between. Kids that should be in school are selling drugs on the street, and bitches that look like they are on their death beds are begging for you to pull over. This is not an area you want to be in.
“Jesus Fucking Christ,” I mutter into the window. I don’t want to be here but I damn sure don’t want Cohen here. “We have to find him, Braxx.”
“Cage, you know me, man. I don’t fuck around. We’re gonna getcha boy back.” His voice is no longer questioning. His tone is not only dripping in confidence and fury, but I can feel the compassion coming off him in waves. Braxxon might be the one man I know not afraid to get his hands dirty, but his heart is pure fucking gold when it comes to someone he considers his family.
Braxx doesn’t offer anything else, but then again, neither do I. We crawl through the streets that make up Naked City and wait. Wait for the call in, but look for any sign that might lead us to my boy.
We have been driving around aimlessly for the last thirty or so minutes when the call finally comes in. ‘C.S. Control’ flashes across the screen, letting me know that one of the boys had found something.
“Cage,” I bark in the phone. My patience is slowly wearing off with each passing homeless person, prostitute, or thug we pass. I can’t stand the thought of Cohen’s innocence being fucked with by these people. The thought of my boy alone and scared is eating me alive. “Speak, Goddammit.”
“It’s Coop. Maddox found him. Well, Maddox found where he should be. Sister’s dead husband has some property just north of where you are now. I’ve got you pulled up on the GPS so just keep taking that road North and I’ll let you know when to turn.”
“Got it,” I respond to Coop. “Keep north until I get word,” I rattle off to Braxx. No fucking way I’m bringing his name up to Coop. Maddox is the only one who knows who I met up with, and that’s one person too many.
“Greg, who the fuck are you with?” Coop questions.
“None of your business. Just keep your eyes on the screen and tell me how to get to my boy.” Yeah. Patience is gone.
“Jesus Christ, you’re going to get locked up or worse, Greg. I hope you know what you’re doing.”
“I’ve got it taken care of. Are we close?” Shut this shit down; I have to shut it down. I take a few deep breaths and wait for the signal to turn. After a few more minutes, we find ourselves sitting in front of the nastiest piece of shit I have ever seen in my life. How this house is still standing is beyond me. Boxes of shit line the front, and more trash and used junk cars litter the yard, but what I don’t see is people. Not one single vehicle that looks like it’s running is in the yard. Just shit, Christmas lights and cats.
“Cage, stay put man. I know that’ll eat at ya, knowing your boy is in there. But this is why I’m here. I’ll be back. In the meantime, grab my black saddlebag outta the back of the van. Unzip it for me, will ya? Grab a gun, just in case. It’s unmarked, no ties, if you should happen to need it. Leave the bag unzipped. My favorite toys are in there. And somethin’ tells me I’m about to play.” He lets out a few low laughs that are pure evil, and not for the first time, I find myself glad to call him a friend and not an enemy. Braxxon Breaker is not an enemy you want to have.
“Greg? What the fuck are you doing?” I hear Coop call over the line. Fuck.
“Forget you heard that, Zeke Cooper, and don’t you fucking tell me you wouldn’t do everything possible to make sure you came out the victor in this situation. Not going to let my woman or our family be threatened again.” He starts to speak but I disconnect and throw my phone down on the seat, waiting to climb out quietly and make my way to the back to follow Braxx’s directions. Folding myself back in the seat, I watch him move silently around the house. Careful to stay hidden while he checks all the windows, he pauses for a second by the front door before turning towards the van with a twisted smile on his face. He motions towards the back of the van and I climb out to figure out what has him tweaked.
Looks like it’s game fucking on.
He rounds the back and holds his hand out for his bag. After popping the hatch, he puts the bag down and starts pulling out his ‘toys.’ I’ve seen just about everything, but when I see the shit he pulls out, even I get a little jolt of shock. Two railroad spikes, a sledgehammer, duct tape, and a 9mm. I understand the tape and the heat, but the first two throw me.
“Brother, not sure I want to know what you have planned with the spikes and the hammer, but this is your show now. Tell me what to do, where to be, and how to get my boy out.”
“For now, the less you know the better. Four total is the count, brother. Heard two bitches yapping and groaning, and another bitch yammering away at the front of the house. You leave them to me. You grab your boy and get the hell outta there. Don’t want blowback harming you or your boy. He’s gonna need ya. I go in first. You stay right the fuck behind me, man. You duck, you run, I don’t give a fuck. Just stay the hell outta my way.”
I can work with that. I offer him a nod and follow him to the door. Braxx might sound harsh to some, but I know this is his show, his town, and I want this. I can trust him to get the job done without having a single trail follow me home, and if shit gets hot, he will make sure it cools quickly. Like I said, you don’t want him as an enemy, but you can’t have better with him as an ally.
The first thing I notice when we burst through the door is the smell. It smells as if this house has been used as a bathroom or mortuary for years. Mixed with the desert heat and no air conditioning, ripe is putting it mildly.
Braxx makes quick work of silencing the bitches that are sitting at the kitchen table snorting lines of coke, and then motions for me to follow the dark hallway towards the back of the house. Even as I move, my limbs start to loosen, my blood starts pumping, and I can feel the adrenaline coursing through my system. Almost as if my body knows that we are in the right place.
The closer I get to the back, the more I can hear the sounds of sex, bodies colliding roughly with the wet smacking of skin, and heavy thumping of what I can only assume is the bedframe banging against the wall. The low moans of a male cause my insides to burn, but when I hear the high-pitched squealing every muscle in my body spasms. I know those fucking squeals.
What the motherfucking hell?!
With a roar powerful enough to shake the foundation, I kick down the door and take in the scene before me. There she is, goddamn Mandy, in all her naked glory doing her best impression of a bucking cowgirl on top of the ugliest son of a bitch I have ever laid eyes on.
Her screams hit my ears, but I only have eyes for the motherfucker under her. He makes quick work of tossing her off his body; I have to fight back the bile when I see his dick spring up between us.
“You! I will fucking deal with you later.” I point over at Mandy. Bracing my legs apart and ready to take on anything, I level the man I just know is responsible for taking my girl’s mother from this world. With a tone that gives even me the chills, I bite out the only fucking thing I care about. “Where is my son?”
The commotion must have alerted Braxxon because I immediately feel his presence behind me.
“You know this bitch?” He asks, pointing to the side of the room where Mandy is trying to climb to her feet.
“Yeah,” I bite but don’t get any further when I see the man make his move.
I haven’t taken my eyes off the man, still naked, and spitting mad so when he makes to charge me, it isn’t hard to block his efforts. My fist connecting with his cheek makes a sickening thunk, and I can hear the bone shatter under the force of my blow. I spare Braxx a quick glance to see him dealing with Mandy. “She stays breathing until I have words, brother,” I spit over my shoulder. He gives me a jerk of his chin before dragging her out of the room by her hair.
Moving my full attention back to the other man, I watch as he stumbles slightly, but makes the move to come at me again. This time I don’t waste a second. Two quick jabs to his gut have him folding over. Another sharp punch to his temple has him wavering slightly. And when I finally take his head between my hands and slam it down on my raised knee, he crumbles. Blood is coming from his nose, mouth, and ears.
When he finally falls to the floor, I rear back and slam my booted foot into his stomach. “Where is my son, asshole?” I roar in his face.
I get no reply, so I kneel next to his prone form and ask again, “Where the fuck is my son?”
“Fuck . . . you,” he moans.
Wrong answer.
I lose complete sense of reality when my vision goes red, and I light into this motherfucker. It isn’t until blood completely covers my hands and I am panting harshly when I’m finally able to pull back, falling to my ass on the blood-covered floor.
I jump slightly when Braxx’s menacing growl filled the room. “Brother, you’re done. Go, I got this. I’ll turn that shit red, Cage. Go”
“I can’t find my boy,” I say, looking up and meeting Braxx’s eyes. Beneath the fury that is taking over his face, I can see the compassion and sorrow for me. “My boy, Braxx.”
“Dammit Greg, pull yourself together. Search the entire house, every nook and every fuckin’ cranny.” His harsh tone sets me straight and I lumber to my feet, shaking off the despair that has started to overtake my system.
I stand from my position on the floor, and pull my shirt over my head to wipe my hands clean. No fucking way I’m touching anything lying around this room.
Besides the trash littering the floor and every available surface, there isn’t much in the room. Turning around and getting ready to leave, I notice for the first time a room off to the side. My feet are moving towards the door before I even realize I’ve had the thought. In my haste, I almost trip over the body Braxx is dragging out of the room in my haste.
Reaching for the knob and finding it locked causes my hope to spark a little. I can’t think of any other reason that would have only locked door in this piece of shit.
“COHEN,” I scream and pound on the door. “Cohen baby, are you in there?” I listen in silence for a few minutes, my hope slowly dying. “Cohen . . . son, please be in there.”
I am getting ready to knock the door down when I hear a faint sniffle and the one word that can bring my heart back to life. “D-d-daddy?”
“Braxx!” I scream. “I found him”
I try to break the door with my shoulder but it won’t budge. The overwhelming need to hold Cohen in my arms, to make sure he is okay, is what is driving me now. “C-Man, I need you to step away from the door. Okay, buddy?” When I hear his soft reply, I step back and kick the door with all my strength, watching it splinter, and pop open. Immediately my eyes start rolling over the small, pitch black room. Before I can even process the whole room, Cohen comes flying into my arms. I pick him up and tuck his head into my shoulder, for the first time since we got the call, feeling that everything is going to be okay.
“Cohen, I need you to close your eyes tight until I say open them, okay? There are some very bad ninjas here that one of my friends is fighting, and I don’t want you to see. You understand?” I can feel him nod his head against my shoulder, his tiny body shaking with the force of his sobs and his tears soaking my shirt. “Daddy has you now, Cohen.”
I waste no time powering through the house, sparing a quick glance at Braxx and seeing him busy making true on his promise. I doubt there will be one inch of that room that isn’t painted red when he is finished.
* * *
Only a few hours later, we are camped out in a roach bucket motel room so I can get Cohen cleaned and fed. Braxx has run to the corner store to stock up on some snacks for Cohen while I bathe and change him. Thankfully, in my rush to make it to Vegas, I had the foresight to bring a change of clothes for both of us.
Cohen has passed out in my arms shortly after inhaling every bag of snack food Braxx has brought back. He is out cold, but he is Safe. In. My. Arms.
Even with Cohen here, I won’t be able to rest easy without knowing what happened., without knowing that the threat is gone for good. I look up and meet Braxx’s gaze. He is waiting for it; he knows me too well and knows I will ask. “Well?”
He looks into my eyes for a few seconds. I can tell he’s trying to decide how much to tell me. Whatever he sees in my face must satisfy him. “Bitch number one is taped to a chair, slowly bleedin’ out, bro. Long, slow death. Bitch number two . . . well, that bitch put up a fight, smashed in her skull. Bitch number three is taped to another chair; ain’t no way she gettin’ loose until my contact picks her up. She was beggin’ me to let her go, beggin’ for that shit. That cunt is so hung up on you, bro. Obsessed beyond belief. You weren’t in the right mind to make that call, brother. You don’t want that bitch to make it near your family again. I handled it. Dickhead in there? Well, let’s just say he ain’t getting up from his chair cause I nailed them spikes through his kneecaps, slit his throat, and bled him dry. You said to turn that shit red, Cage. I turned that shit red.” His eyes look tired, but I can tell he is still riding high on adrenaline.
It should be hard hearing that, but these people don’t deserve to walk this earth. I promised myself I wouldn’t let anyone threaten my family again, and even with the battle of right vs. wrong, I feel like I made the right play.
“What’s going to happen to her?” I question. My stomach clenches at just the thought that she could cause more trouble.
“She won’t be an issue. My contact has plans for her. She won’t ever fuckin’ touch your family again.” You aren’t friends with someone as long as we’ve been without knowing how to read between the lines. He knows what’s eating at me.
I nod my head and look back down at Cohen. “I can’t thank you enough for your help, Braxx. I really can’t. Next to Melissa, this little boy means the world to me, and you helped get that back. You need something, anything, you call, yeah?
“Will do, brother. Will do.” He gives me a nod, his eyes falling on Cohen one more time before pushing off the wall he’s leaning against. He takes a few seconds to pull something from his saddlebag and then walks over to the bed. He drops the keys and a fresh license plate on the bed, meets my eyes one last time, and walks out the door. Words aren’t necessary at this point. He knows my respect for him runs deep, and I know to a man like Braxxon that my thanks aren’t wanted but known.
It is time to take my boy home, get my woman, and pick up the pieces from this fucked up mess.