Chapter Six
After that first night with Jonathan, I drove to work instead of taking the bus for fear of running into him, having kicked him out at knife-point and all. I clearly didn’t know Jonathan anymore, what he might be capable of. I spent the hours constantly looking over my shoulder, expecting him to show up. To be honest, I was a bit surprised when he didn’t. I hadn’t expected him to really leave me alone.
Then there had been the run-in at the diner a couple days later, which I was still kicking myself for. I couldn’t believe that I’d given in so easily and fucked him again when I knew I should stay away. There was just something about him that I couldn’t resist. He’d been right, of course, to call me out on my bullshit. I did like to pretend that his world didn’t exist when I wasn’t in it—but only because I felt so out of place in the safe, boring life I’d grown up having.
God, I was all kinds of fucked up.
His words had hit their mark, hurting more than I cared to admit. A few nights later I stood outside the hospital, taking a short break, phone in hand. I stared at Jonathan’s name, thumb hovering over the Send button. I’m sorry, I’d typed.
That was when the shit hit the proverbial fan and the shooting started. Not just one or two shots, but what sounded more like two hundred. I’d noticed an increase in gang members coming through our doors for a few days, specifically Kings and Celts. Nothing fatal, but I could sense things were escalating.
Fuck. So much for a quiet night. I hurried back in to rally the troops and prepare for the inevitable onslaught. Before the first ambulances could even arrive, shouts and yells for help rose excitedly from the front desk.
A large group of men came in carrying two wounded men among them. They’d been shot—one in the leg, the other in the abdomen. We rushed them to the back and the doors had barely closed behind us when two Celts came in via ambulance. The waiting room, filled with friends and family members, bubbled over with rage. By the time security got everyone under control and removed, the place resembled the set of Jerry Springer.
When I reached the end of my shift, each side had lost a person. Two additional Celts were touch and go, nobody had much hope of them making it through the day. The guy from the Kings with the leg wound had some serious luck. The bullet had just missed the artery, although there was still muscle damage and he might have a limp now. Then there were the dozen or so other gang members who came in from the fight with various minor injuries in comparison. A secret part of me was relieved to not see Jonathan among them.
I was thankful to finally clock out only a little bit late and head home for some peace and quiet. Since I had a bunch of time before the next bus would be around, and was still full of pent-up energy, I decided to walk a bit and let Jovi catch up to me at a stop further down instead of waiting at the hospital.
My decision to walk proved to be a stupid one. Walking at night was something I usually enjoyed. The difference in the city between night and day always amazed me. Streets clogged with cars and people became wide open spaces, easy to traverse even with the increased criminal element. Knowing the gangs were at war, I kept my eyes open for potential problems. Darkness and shadows were everywhere, a delinquent’s best friend. Things were too quiet. Suddenly feeling foolish, I pulled my phone out.
The message to Jonathan was still there, never sent. I wondered if I should send it, or just call. I hated that I wanted him there in that moment. It made me seem like a damsel in distress, which I was not. I was simply being realistic for the first time in a while, and admitting that I could possibly be in over my head right then.
Like it or not, I needed him.
I pressed the call button just as someone grabbed me from behind, dragging me into the alley I’d just passed. My phone clattered to the ground and I saw the call connect as a startled cry escaped me.
“Found you, bitch,” a familiar voice growled in my ear. “What, no smart-mouthed comments for me this time?” Oh, shit. The man holding me was the one who’d held the gun on me that night during the robbery. I tried desperately to get to the tazer I carry in my bag.
“Let me go! Help!” I screamed. My bag was ripped from me and tossed aside as he brought me deeper into the alley.
A moment later a second person rushed around the corner after us and my brain was scrambling, trying to remember every self-defense move I’d ever learned, in the hopes of avoiding the assault—and possibly murder—that I assumed was imminent.
“Mike! What the fuck are you doing?” Relief flooded me as I recognized Jonathan’s voice.
“Boss, this is the woman! The one who was in the store that night!”
Boss?
Muted light from the back entrance of a restaurant lit Jonathan in garish hues as he came closer. I was so happy to see him that I didn’t wonder how or why he’d been so close.
“Were you, Claire? Last week, middle of the night, Pop’s Convenience, over by your bus stop?”
I nodded. The cold metal of a gun pressed into my temple.
“See! I fucking told you there was a witness. We gotta do something about her.”
“Mike, I told you to drop this. If she was going to the cops she would have done so by now. She’s not a threat. We’re not doing anything to her.” Jonathan’s voice was calm, but I could sense the barely contained rage under the surface. Jaw clenched and eyes narrowed, he took another step toward us.
“You’re such a fucking pussy. Jesus, how the fuck did you end up in charge? Ramon woulda taken care of this bitch right away, not left her to run her mouth.” Mike gesticulated wildly in Jonathan’s direction with the gun as he spoke, though he kept the arm around my throat tight, not slackening his grip on me in the least.
My head raced as I processed what I was hearing. Jonathan was the man at the top of the South Side Kings? “Enforcement is below my pay grade…” Was it possible? How could the boy I’d known grow to become this man?
“Yes, because killing an innocent bystander is the best way to keep the cops away. Fuck, Mike, I knew you were dumb and all, but really? And like it or not, I am in charge. What I say goes. And I say let her go.”
“I know what’s going on here. You think if you spare her, she’ll let you fuck her, is that it?” My head was wrenched to the side and the bastard licked my neck. “What do you say, bitch? Wanna let the big bad boss man stick his cock in you?” The gun slid down my stomach and pressed between my legs. I closed my eyes, blocking it out and focusing on our positioning so I could find an opening to free myself. “You know, she ain’t that bad-looking. We could take turns bef—”
The gunshot was deafening in the narrow alley.
I screamed and crouched into a ball with my hands over my head. When my brain registered I wasn’t the one who’d been shot—because how would I have been able to move unless Mike no longer held me—and there wasn’t any further gunfire, I opened my eyes and looked around. Jonathan hadn’t moved from his spot just a few feet away. He stood, breathing heavily, now holding a gun at his side. On the littered pavement next to me lay Mike. A pool of blood, nearly black in the dim light, slowly haloed his head. I watched a small trickle slide down his forehead from the bullet hole he now sported like a third eye. More of his blood, and bits of skull and brain, decorated the side of the dumpster behind me. I stood, returning my gaze to Jonathan.
“That’s two. Anyone else who threatens your safety will become three.” His words were slow and deliberate to ensure I heard and understood each one.
I remembered reading about how stressful situations could make you horny or something. Had to do with the adrenaline, I think. Whatever it was, all I could think about was fucking him. Right there, in that filthy, stinky alley. To have an affirmation of life in the presence of death. Maybe it was Stockholm Syndrome. He’d just killed someone, executed him, with no remorse. Right in front of me. And he was the goddamn leader of the South Side Kings for fuck’s sake. A sane person would run from him. Far and fast.
I looked down at Mike’s dead body again. I’d definitely crossed the line of just flirting with danger. Hell, I’d pole-vaulted over that motherfucker and landed far on the other side the moment I’d called Jonathan. Denying it was useless. I’m pretty sure the moment he heard my screams through the phone, Mike’s death had become a foregone conclusion.
He returned the gun to the small of his back and looked at me expectantly, eyebrows raised. He was waiting for me to say or do something. I appreciated his silence, his patience with me as I processed what had happened.
“Jonathan, I…” I had no idea what to say that could make things right between us. Or how to thank him for what he’d just done. Tentatively, I took a few steps toward him. Jonathan closed the remaining distance between us and gently cupped his hands around my shoulders.
“You’re okay now, baby girl,” he said softly.
I surged forward, up on my tiptoes, to kiss him. I held the sides of his head, buried my fingers in his hair, and claimed him the way he’d claimed me. I hoped it was enough, that he’d understand.
Someone gently cleared their throat a few feet away and I reluctantly broke the kiss.
“Excuse me, sir, but we should be leaving here before…”
“I know, Will.” Jonathan returned his attention to me. “Claire? Are you coming with me?”
“Yes,” I said without hesitation.
He exhaled heavily and pulled me tight against him.
“Thank you,” he whispered. I don’t know if he even meant to say it aloud.
“The car is this way, sir,” Will said.
Jonathan took my hand and led me back to the street. Will held open the back door of a black SUV with equally black windows.
“Your purse and phone, ma’am,” he said, handing them over. “Although I’m afraid you’ll need a new phone.”
“Thank you.”
He shut the door behind us and climbed into the front. Jonathan pressed a button and a privacy screen rose up, enclosing us in our own little world as the driver quickly pulled away.
Jonathan pulled me into his lap and held my gaze.
“You scared the life out of me, do you know that?”
I bit my bottom lip. “I’m so sorry. You were right. About everything.”
“I love you, Claire. I’ve loved you since before I knew what the word meant. I will do anything necessary to protect you. As long as you are with me, you will be safe. Do you understand what that means?”
“Yes.”
“Do you understand what you’re agreeing to?”
“Yes.” I nodded. I was fully aware that I was signing up for the exact polar opposite of what I’d been raised to be.
“No more walking alone at night, got it?”
I smiled and slid down to my knees on the floor.
“Yes, Sir.”
The End