Adrian’s cell went off on his way back from his bedroom where he’d retrieved Shannon’s phone. Lorenzo was set up and ready to trace the call when Adrian walked through the door. The young man nodded at him to answer it.

“Hello?” Adrian had been certain it was from Tazz when the Caller ID showed up as unknown.

“Little brother.” Tazz’s voice came through smug and superior. “It’s been a while. How are you doing?”

“Is Jules okay?” Adrian asked.

“You think I would hurt my own nephew?”

Rather than answer honestly and risk setting him off, Adrian took a different course. “Being taken from his family would have terrified him,” Adrian said.

“It’s good for him to face his fears,” Tazz chuffed. “I bet you spoil him rotten.”

“What do you want, Tazz?” Adrian asked. “I know you didn’t take Jules because you actually want him. So, what’s your game?”

“All right. You want to cut to the chase, so be it. I want the bastard that Shannon fucked. I know that you know who he is. Jules told Cal his name was Shay. Hand him over—or tell us where to find him—and when we have him, you can have Jules back. That’s the deal.”

Adrian glanced at Lorenzo. The young man urged Adrian to keep him talking.

“So,” Adrian murmured for the benefit of the others standing by, “if we give you Jules’ real father, then you’ll return Jules to us? A straight across trade?” Anthony and Angelo exchanged a tense look.

“Straight across the board.”

“And you’ll leave Jules and I alone for good…if we do this?”

“Don’t have any use for either of you.”

Adrian cleared his throat. “Give me a number where I can reach you and I’ll call you back in one hour.”

“You really going to turn him over to me?” Suspicion and doubt saturated Tazz’s voice.

“Jules means more to me than anything or anyone,” Adrian said. “There’s nothing I wouldn’t do to get him back. But before we agree to meet you, I’ll want to talk to Jules first, know he’s really okay.”

“As you wish. I’m not trying to bullshit you about him being fine.”

Lorenzo nodded at Adrian, indicating he had the location pinned down.

“All right,” Adrian said. “What’s your number?” Tazz provided the number and Adrian wrote it down. “I’ll be in touch in one hour.”

“I’ll be counting the minutes,” Tazz murmured dryly and hung up.

Silence hung over the room for a moment as Adrian put his phone away.

“He wants us to give him…Shay?” Anthony raised an eyebrow.

“That’s the trade?” Angelo glanced between them. The pain in his eyes radiated forth. “Well, if he wants Shay,” he said tightly. “Then let’s send him to Shay.”

Adrian nodded. “I agree.”

“Why did you tell him one hour?” Anthony asked.

“To give Clint and the boys time to reach his location. He’ll be waiting for my call, but he won’t be expecting me to make a move until I have Jules safely back with me.” He looked at Lorenzo. “Where was the signal coming from?”

“The outer limits of the city.” Lorenzo motioned him over and showed him on the digital map. “This general location.”

The two older men joined them. “There’s a lot of old vacant buildings out that way,” Anthony said. “Probably holed up in one them.” He dug out his cell. “I’ll call Clint, tell him where they’re at and what they want.”

 

♦

 

“Can I see Jules?” Callum asked low; any word out of his mouth at this point could easily gain him another fist in the face.

Tazz had ended his call a few minutes ago. Callum didn’t know if Adrian would actually turn Jules’ dad over to them, he found it hard to imagine. The men Adrian was with were hardcore—much harder-core than Tazz realized. Tazz was arrogant and believed his gang to be one of the toughest, most ruthless gangs in the country. If anything, he was under the impression that Adrian and his men should fear him.

Before Tazz could respond to Callum’s request,

“They’re mine,” Jules whispered, trembling. His cheeks were flushed and damp with recently shed tears. “Give’em back.”

Blade smirked. “What’s so special about them?” He held up the boots and looked at them skeptically. “Don’t look so special to me.”

“Uncle Clint gave them to me for my birthday,” Jules choked on a quiet sob.

“Uncle Clint?” Blade cocked an eyebrow. “He some kind of cowboy?”

Images of the “cowboy” filled Callum’s head. Blade was referencing him in a cynical manner. Callum was sure Blade would meet the man before this was over—and probably shit his pants when he was actually standing face to face with him.

“He is a cowboy,” Jules mumbled thickly. “A real cowboy.”

“Ooh.” Blade tossed a dull look at Tazz. “A real cowboy.” He snorted. “Well, I think cowboys are pansy-ass faggots. And these…” he indicated Jules’ boots. “…are sissy boots.” He walked over to one of the furnaces that had a low burning fire inside and opened the door.

“No!” Jules cried.

“You’ll never grow into a real man wearing these queer things.”

“Don’t…” Callum started but the man was already tossing them into the flames.

Jules wailed, loud and shrill, tears gushing out. “Nooo!”

Blade slammed the door and latched it, a smug smile on his face. “What’s your sissy cowboy gonna do about that?”

Jules trembled, tear-filled eyes wide and locked on the furnace. His small chin quivered as he swallowed sobs and looked at Blade. “He’s not a sissy,” he whispered and Callum swore he heard a smidge of defiance in the child’s voice. “He’s big and tough and…” he choked on another cry.

“And what?” Blade sneered.

His small chest hitching, Jules glared at him. “He’ll kick your ass.”

Blade stared at him in mild shock then looked at Tazz. Both men burst out laughing.

The little boy just looked at them, face pinched and tears trickling down his cheeks. Keep laughing, Callum thought. When the cowboy gets a hold of you, you’ll both be laughing out the other side of your broken faces.

“That was fun.” Blade cleared his throat. “Let’s burn something else.” He flashed an evil grin. “How about the mutt? We can shove a stick up its ass and roast him like a weeny dog.” He started whistling for the pup. “Come here, puppy.”

“No!” Jules screamed when the pup slinked out of the back corridor, tail tucked and moving forward fearfully.

“Ah, there you are, you mangy mutt,” Blade smiled. “Come to uncle Blade.” He squatted to his heels and patted his leg. The pup untucked its tail a bit, wagging hesitantly as it headed for Blade.

“No! Cowboy!” Jules scrambled off the table. When the pup saw him, it veered around Blade, heading for his boy. Blade’s hand shot out and snatched the pup up by the scruff of its neck, wrenching a startled yelp from the animal. “Let him go!” Jules cried and began hitting and kicking Blade.

“Fuck,” Tazz laughed. “You got a wild one on your hands.”

Blade twisted around on his heels, clutching the pup and partially shielding Jules’ small fists with one arm as he snickered and laughed at the boy.

“Give him back!” Jules screamed through a flood of tears and kicked again—nailing Blade between the legs.

“Fuck!” Blade dropped the pup and fell onto his ass, clutching his crotch. Tazz busted up, and was joined by more laughter as some of the other members wandered out to see what the racket was about.

Cowboy scrambled into Jules’ arms as the boy hugged him tight and moved away from Blade, back toward the table and Callum.

Eyes watered and burning, Blade twisted his head and glared at Jules. “You little fucker!” He jumped to his feet a bit awkwardly, still feeling the effects of Jules’ well-placed kick, and lunged at Jules, grabbing the pup away from him. “I’ll fucking fry him!”

Jules screamed bloody murder and attacked him again, small fists flailing, pounding the man’s thighs, and feet kicking at his shins and ankles. “Noo! Give him back!” Torrents of tears gushed down his face as he choked on his fierce cries and sobs. “Give him baaack!”

“Stop!” Callum yelled at Blade. “What the fuck is wrong with you? Does it make you feel big and tough to terrorize a little kid? Give him his dog back!”

“Oh, my fuck!” Tazz snapped. “Give him the fucking dog or he’ll never shut up.”

“He kicked me in the balls!” Blade hissed, spittle flying from his lips. His fist tightened around glob of fur and skin as he held the pup suspended in the air. The dog began to yipe as he gripped harder.

Jules’ screams mixed with the pup’s wailing.

“Give him his puppy!” Callum screamed.

“Fuck!” Tazz winced. “Put the fucking thing down!”

With a twisted scowl, Blade dropped the dog and Jules instantly fell to the floor, hugging his puppy, crying into its fur. “I hate you!” he cried at Blade. “Uncle Clint’s gonna beat you up for being so mean!”

Blade snorted. “I’m shaking in my boots.”

You will be, Callum thought, and hoped he was there to see it. The thought hardly slipped through his head when Blade was suddenly looming over him.

“And who the fuck are you to yell at me and give me orders? Huh?” He jerked his arm up and backhanded Callum across the face, sending him crashing to the floor, chair and all. “Don’t you ever fucking raise your voice to me again, boy, or I’ll rip that tongue right out of your fucking head.” He turned back to Jules. “Just wait till your daddy Shay gets here, then we’ll see who’s shaking in their boots.”

Jules tightened his arms around his pup and glared up at Blade with wet eyes. “Daddy Shay is dead,” he choked quietly. “He’s in heaven with mommy.”

From the floor, Callum saw Tazz and Blade exchange a shocked look. Tazz moved toward the boy. “Your real dad is dead?”

Jules cowered against his pup and nodded.

Tazz frowned and met Blade’s stare. “Why didn’t Adrian tell me that?” he murmured. “What the fuck kind of game is he playing?”