CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Zeek
PULLING INTO VEGAS, I point at Uncle Frank’s casino. “That’s it.”
“So that is Uncle Frank’s famous Sin Casino?” Lip leans forward eyeing the building that is illuminated in red.
“Yep, that’s all his.”
The armored truck catches my attention pulling into the parking lot of the casino, and turns to the point of pickup.
“Right on time,” I say out loud, my palms twitching for the excitement ahead.
My phone rings, catching my attention.
“I’m in. Where do you want us?” Felix informs. Relief floods me that he has my back. I need him, and I don’t say that about many people in my life.
“When the sedan leaves, follow it.”
“Got it.”
The armored truck pulls out of the lot first, heading left as the sleek looking sedan turns right.
“You were right,” Lip sounds shocked. Scowling, I glance at him. Did he think I was lying?
Putting the SUV in drive, Lip follows the sedan. We stay back about a half mile making sure not to be seen. Motorcycles zip beside us. Looking out the window, I find my boys. Machete smiling and flipping me off.
“Yours?” Lip questions.
“Yeah, they’d be mine.”
The sedan pulls onto a side road that leads to the freeway. The hairs on the back of my neck raise. Nobody to see the altercation go down, it’s now or never.
“Now.” The words come out husky, and my eyes hood as I cock my gun.
Rolling down my window, I pull my gun out and aim it at the right back tire. Pulling the trigger, a bullet bites into the rubber, making the tire blow. The car slows, and a man with a black hat sticks his head out the window, blowing his hat right off. Tugging himself fully out of the window, he pulls out a Colt AR 15.
“Oh fuck!” I holler, darting back into the car.
Bullets spray across the windshield, tearing into the seats and headliner. Chunks of glass spraying back toward my arms and face. Rage, pure sweet fucking rage races through my limbs as I duck for cover.
“Jesus Christ!” Lip shouts and hunches under the steering wheel. He peers up over the wheel, and slams on the accelerator as we race forward.
“I’m going to fucking kill every one of them!” I holler above the chaos, pulling my .45 from my holster.
“Hold on!” Lip instructs.
Ignoring him I aim at the car just as Lip clips the back bumper of the sedan. I’m thrown forward, my head connecting with part of the windshield, and my shoulder hitting the dash. The man with the Colt AR 15 is nearly thrown from the window, as the car spins out of control before coming to an abrupt stop.
“What the fuck?!” I yell. My forehead stings and my shoulder burns. Pressing my fingers to my hairline I find blood. Not a lot, but enough for me to glare at Lip.
“What? I said hold on.”
The Devil’s Dust and the Outlaws circle the car, weapons aimed as they get off their bikes. It looks like a fucking SWAT team, but it’s worse, it’s criminals without law.
Stepping out of the car, I pull both my guns out and aim them at the passenger door. The men begin to emerge from the car, guns in hand and every single man standing with leather on their backs open fire.
Not giving them a chance to return fire, we riddle their bodies with bullets.
They fall to the desert floor, blood seeping through their clothes, the black sedan sporting bullet holes from one end to the other.
“Jesus Christ, that was awesome!” Machete yells, slapping me on the back in excitement.
“You didn’t have a fucking Colt AR 15 shooting at you!” I respond wide-eyed, not sure where the excitement was in that. He pats my shoulder and jogs toward the end of the car. He’s fucking nuts.
We head toward the sedan and Bobby pops the trunk.
Bull whistles eyeing the goods. Stepping around the back of the car I see what has him in awe. There are at least thirteen duffle bags sitting in the trunk.
Machete unzips one and fingers the cash. “Jesus,” he whispers.
“You weren’t lying.” Bull rubs his temple with his gun.
Grabbing one of the duffle bags I haul it from the trunk and push it into Bull’s chest. “You got your money, now we get my woman.”
“Bobby, empty these bags, and stuff them,” Bull orders.
“With what?” Bobby looks at him quizzically.
“Fuck if I care.”
“Oh, what about Monopoly money?” His eyes go bright, and I can’t help but scoff.
“Don’t do that,” Shadow laughs half serious.
“I’d love to see their reaction though,” Bobby chuckles.
“They won’t have time to react before they’re dead,” Bull informs casually. I like the way this man thinks. “We will get these filled to look like they’re packing the green, and then we’ll set up a drop. When Frank’s men leave for the pickup, you attack him.”
“He won’t be protected, I like it.” Felix nods approvingly, standing by my side.
“Call him, set the drop,” Bull insists.
Jillian
SWEAT TRICKLES DOWN MY BACK, my stomach growling with the need to eat. I’m so tired, mentally and physically.
“Zeek just called,” Frank states, walking into the room. “Just set up the drop, send our men and pick it up.”
Cross snorts. “I’ll send the boys to make sure they give us everything.”
“Send them all, I don’t want any surprises,” Frank insists.
“You, however, I’m going to have to set an example for my nephew, and that involves you I’m afraid. When he arrives, I’m going to take your life. I’m going to squeeze every single ounce of air out of your lungs until your heart slows down and your body begs for it. Then, and only then, when he realizes I am who controls his very existence will I end your filthy fucking life and that pig you’re carrying.”
Tears rip from my eyes as I sob, praying Zeek has a plan when he arrives. I want to be strong, but being tied to chair and having your life and unborn child’s threatened…all you can do is cry and hope.
“About that, Frank, I had an idea when you were away. What if we keep her, hide her away somewhere and let Zeek think we took her life. She’ll be ours until she gives birth. We can raise that bastard baby into the loyal leader we need. I know the place, and the people to put this kind of thing together.”
Frank nods, his lips twisting into approval. “See, that is why I need you by my side, Cross. Only you can think of that kind of shit. I love it.” He laughs like the Devil reincarnated. “He won’t even know she’s alive. She’ll be right under his nose the whole time, right up until she bears that child and we make it the ultimate weapon!”
A sound zips from the window, catching everyone’s attention. Suddenly a vase sitting on the counter explodes. Frank’s eyes furrow as he stands fully. “What the fuck was that?” Cross strides toward the broken vase and bends down.
“It’s a shell.” Their eyes widen in fear as he yells out. “SNIPER!” Cross’s voice booms through the suite just as another bullet crashes through the window and lodges into a cabinet. “Get the fuck down and take cover!” He continues to yell, another bullet whistles in passing, tearing into the Saran Wrap and my bicep.
Closing my eyes, I hold in a cry of pain. Blood oozes down my arm, warm and thick, burning like a bitch. I’ve got to get out of sight or I’m going to be hit again. Rocking myself I push the stool over, and I crash to the floor hard. My shoulder roaring with pain from the impact as I bite down on my lip to muffle my scream.
Everything goes silent, the only noise is my harsh breathing.
Finally, after a few seconds that feel like minutes, they stop. Everything is silent and still.
“We were set up, goddamn it!” Frank hollers.
“I told you just to kill that little prick.” Cross groans deeply as if he’s in pain. He must have been hit, too.
The doors to the suite are suddenly kicked in, and in steps Zeek and Lip. He has on dirty blue jeans and a black shirt that is taut along his chest. His chest is heaving, the look on his face resembling the damn Hulk. His eyes sweep over the suite before slowly landing on me.
My heart beats in slow motion, butterflies forming in the pit of my stomach. The corner of his mouth lifts into the smallest smirk. “Rookie,” he mouths, making my world come alive again.
I’m not going to die.
Felix and Lip step into the room, looking the scene over. A smile breaks through my frown, my chest warming. They’ll all here. To save me. The cop.
Cross’s shoulders rise and fall, his eyes building with rage as his face nearly turns purple.
“AAHH!” Cross hurdles himself across the room and attacks Zeek, they both crash to the ground. Cross slams his fist into Zeek’s face, before Zeek rolls over and returns the hit. The sound of fist on bone echoing throughout the hotel room.
Frank steps forward and Lip presses his gun into the back of his head, stopping him.
A blond haired guy with a Devil’s Dust cut on makes his way to me—Bobby, I think it was. He cuts the wrap around the chair with a Buck knife. Adrenaline pounds through my body so fast I don’t have the patience to wait for him to free my hands from the cuffs. I rip the Saran Wrap from my body, and run to help Zeek.
“Jillian, NO!” Zeek hollers as he spots me. Cross taking the advantage, gets the upper hand and is on top of Zeek, his hands around his neck. I don’t even give Zeek’s men the chance to interfere, I tense all my muscles, grit my teeth, and thrust my foot into Cross’s face as hard as I can. Rage drives my adrenaline. I want my gun, I want to kill him! Cross flies off Zeek, landing on his back. A dazed look crossing his face as his head makes contact with the floor roughly.
Zeek chokes, and pants rolling over on all fours.
An emotional growl erupts from my mouth, not feeling satisfied that Cross is still alive. I wipe my sweaty palms on my pants trying to calm myself, Zeek groaning behind me. My hands slide along a bulge in my pant pocket, reminding me of the cross from the rosary beads Zeek gave me. After all this time. It’s stayed with me, protecting me when Zeek wasn’t able to.
“Think of me or some shit” echoes in my mind. Nobody has ever stood up for Zeek. Assholes who terrorized him seemed to have bullied the only faithful few he’s had on his side.
Fishing it from my pants, my hands tied making it harder I pull it out, palming it. Flicking my gaze to Zeek, his eyes widen when he sees I’m not done.
“Jillian!”
Swallowing hard, my heart beats wildly against my chest as I look Cross in the eyes.
“I’m going to enjoy ripping you apart.” My words surprise me, coming from a dark place I never knew I had. Nonetheless, I don’t falter.
I step forward, crouching down and slam the end of the pendant into his chest with all my might. Blood spits across my face, but I’m not done yet. I dig it deeper and deeper, forcing the wound to open more and more. Blood starts to trickle from my palm as I watch his chin resting on his chest, his gaze cast downwards at the cross protruding from his chest. His dark eyes slowly find mine, realization that he might die tonight flaring behind them.
“You don’t mess with family.” I tug the cross from his chest, a sob leaving my mouth. Blood pours from the wound, his chest heaving with pain. I turn, the bloody pendant in my hand.
His hand covers the wound, as his eyes cloud and his chest heaves for air. The adrenaline running rampant through my limbs dissipates, realization of what I just did beginning to sit heavy.
What the hell did I just do?
“You okay, baby?” Zeek asks softly, coming face to face with me.
“Yes, I’m fine.” The words get caught in my throat. Setting one of his guns down, he pulls and yanks at the cuffs. I wince, my wrists reminding me my skin is like raw meat.
“Wait, I got it.” Mac takes my hands, and pulls out a tool resembling a bobby pin. In seconds, my hands are free. It’s kind of scary how fast he is at picking the handcuff locks.
“Thank you,” I croak.
He winks. “Don’t mention it.”
Zeek’s hand clasps the back of my neck, and he pulls me in for a strong kiss. One that literally melts everything that has been sitting on my shoulders since I was taken. A warmth spreads through my limbs as I close my eyes and revel in the feeling of security. The smell of leather and spice comforting me. I missed this man, I missed him so fucking much. Kissing him, being this close to him after being ripped from his arms, I can say without a doubt that I’m his forever. Just like he said, I’ll never be able to leave him.
Zeek slowly pulls his lips from me, and I pout inside. Not wanting it to stop.
I look into Zeek’s eyes, I don’t want him to break the comforting embrace his arms bring. I know what’s going to happen next because the look of lust and love is fading into something black and ominous. Pulling his hollow gaze from mine, he focuses on Frank.
Zeek
I TAKE A BREATH IN, trying to calm myself but the fury raging inside of me cannot be contained.
Sliding my hair back out of my face, I glare at Frank.
He made this beast, fed this monster for years, and now he’s about to see his masterpiece firsthand.
Like the little bitch that he is, he tries to run. He doesn’t make it very far though, because Lip pistol whips him in the head making him fall to his knees.
Freeing my gun from its holster, I stride toward Frank.
“This ends here,” I seethe.
“Zeek, wait,” he begs. “Please, have mercy, nephew. Understand where I am coming from as your uncle. I was just trying to make you the man I know you’re capable of being.” I snort, and check the clip, making sure it’s loaded with bullets.
Then I aim the gun at him, and his face stills, the act that he has been performing everything for my own good falling into what he really is. A ruthless outlaw. A Deluca.
His act fades when he realizes he’s going to die, his true demeanor forming his face with an edge.
“I should have killed you along with your snitching father.” His tone dripping with malicious intent. “You know why I set you up to kill him? Because I knew you’d be weak and vulnerable afterwards, and you were. It was so easy to manipulate you into doing whatever I needed.” He chuckles, his head falling back before his dead eyes pin me where I stand. “But, see, I failed to mention one crucial part of information. That wasn’t your father. Your bitch of a mother slept with Cross when she found out her husband was getting his dick wet with her club whore of a best friend. Cross is your father. Do you hear me? You. Are. Cross’s. Son.”
“That’s not true,” Lip shouts behind me. I’m not surprised he’d defend our mother so quickly. It makes sense though, as much as I don’t want it to be, it all makes perfect fucking sense.
I look over at Cross’s body lying there bleeding out and try to see if I feel anything. A tether to him, a bond, or a simple connection that will tell me this man was indeed the man who fathered me. But I feel nothing. Just like I had been taught to feel for as long as I could remember. There’s no warmth swelling my heart like when I look at Jillian—the light that grounds me, the one person in this world who has guided me into seeing that there is more to me than a beast incapable of emotion.
The only thing I feel for Cross is nothingness. He wasn’t my father, I tell myself. He was a coward, no matter how big and bad he was in the streets of Vegas. He was a coward within this circle of lies for letting another man raise me as his.
“It is very much true.” Frank continues to laugh, bringing my attention back to him. “Why do you think your mother hated you so much, Zeek? You were your mother’s one mistake, the one fuck up your ‘father’ held over her head. The mistake I was fortunate enough to use to my leverage, Zeeky Boy. You were the Deluca’s best kept dirty little secret that kept everyone—”
Leaning down in Frank’s face, my nose nearly touching his, my nostrils flare. My eyes flicking back and forth between his, seeing something very familiar. Frank and I aren’t so different, or at least we weren’t before I met Jillian. Before her, I was a man with one goal—power. I wanted to be on top, and rule the streets no matter the cost. Power is more addicting than sex, drugs, or money. It clouds your mind and reaps your soul, and before you know it, you’re not living, and you’re just surviving. Frank taught me that, he injected that drug into my veins when he set me up to kill my father. My father. At least the man I perceived as my father. The man who gave me the dirty needle of the constant craving to be the guy who deserves respect from such a young age. Because of that I’ve lost not only people I love but I lost who I could have been.
“Save a spot for me in Hell,” I seethe through clenched teeth. I turn, trying to decide how I want to go forward.
“After everything I have given you, you’d think a little mercy and understanding would come a bit more freely from you.” Just as the condescending words leave Frank’s mouth I turn back around.
“Delucas don’t have mercy.” I kick him in the throat, a roar ripping through my entire body. Frank flies into the bullet riddled glass, crashing through it and free falling twenty floors down. Wind blasts into the hotel room, and Jillian screams behind me. Stepping to the edge of the glass, I look down, finding Frank nothing but the size of a bloody speck. His arms and head dismantled as he lie there in pieces. The fall so great his limbs snapped off from the impressive impact.
People are running around screaming. Complete fucking mayhem breaking out. I rub at my chin. I’m going to have to use a lot of brownie points to get out of this one.
“Zeek?” A scared voice grabs my attention. Turning, I focus on Jillian who is standing much closer than before, her arms holding her stomach in a protective manner, and one of her arms is bleeding. My eyes fall to her stomach, and I exhale a breath I didn’t realize I had been holding. One I have been withholding since Frank took her. Reaching for her, I tangle my fingers into her hair and bring her chest flush with mine. Needing to feel her heart beat against mine.
“Are you okay?” My eyes look deep into hers, and she shakes her head. Tugging her bottom lip in between her teeth, tears fall from her eyes.
Shit!
I know she has to be beyond scared, and this is against everything she stands for. How she can look at me the same after she’s seen the animal I’m capable of becoming will be a miracle. I love her though, and I will see to it that those eyes are filled with nothing but love and lust, and not in fear when she looks at me.
I can’t stand to see her afraid of me, I need her love. I have to have it or I won’t survive. For some reason, she’s the only one I trust in this world.
“I’m going to get you out of here.” I pull her to my chest, her fingers clawing into my shirt.
“Shit, we got a problem.” Tearing my eyes from Jillian I look at Felix. “Cross is gone.”
“What?!” Letting go of Jillian I look to where I had last seen Cross, and find spots of blood trailing to the elevator. “You didn’t watch him?” I ask as I open the elevator, only to find it empty.
“We were right behind you, man. We were watching Frank, I thought Cross was a done deal. Dead.” Mac shrugs.
“FUCK!” I scream.
“He’s gone? He can’t be gone! He’s going to come back, he’s—”
“Jillian!” I holler, interrupting her. Placing my hands on her arms, her body shakes, her eyes leaking with scared tears.
“I’ll find him. I won’t give up until I find him, baby. I promise.” She nods, her eyes fluttering.
Pulling her close I wrap my arms around her, needing to hold her. Let her know I’m here. She winces from my strong hold. Pulling her an arm’s length away I notice blood staining her arm. My chest weighs heavy, realizing she’s been hit.
“Fuck, baby.” Pulling her arm out I inspect the wound. The bullet just grazed her.
“It burns bad, but I think I’ll be fine,” she responds through clenched teeth. I want to turn around and slam my fist down Shadow’s throat. He swore he wouldn’t hit her. But, then again, she might not even be standing here without their help.
“Shadow texted, said the gun jammed and recoiled harder than he anticipated. Nearly dislocated his shoulder when firing,” Bobby informs, holding his phone. Shadow must have saw me looking at Jillian’s arm. Glancing out the window I look up on the rooftops, and jut my chin out. Silently telling him we’re good.
“We need to get going,” Lip informs his brothers, looking down at Frank’s body from the window. “We got cops.” The Devil’s Dust scatter out of the building, and Lip stops at the elevator.
“You coming?” Bobby questions Lip, holding the doors open.
“Nah, go. I’ll be down in a second.” Turning back around he crosses his arms and smirks in my direction.
“It wasn’t so bad working with ya,” his voice humorous. I think Lip and I have always had a miscommunication since we were kids. With both of our parents out of the way, and our heads out of our asses, thanks to some spitfire women, maybe now we can actually have the bond brothers are supposed to have. Pride, and the size of our dicks set aside. (Because we all know mine’s still bigger.)
“Yeah, same.” I smile, heading toward the elevator holding Jillian’s hand. We all climb in, willing the elevator to race down so we don’t get caught by the police.
“You need help cleaning up the club?” He flicks a brow my way.
“I think my boys and I can take care of it. You got a family to get back to. I appreciate everything, brother, really.”
“You know Frank was talking shit, right? You’re my brother Zevin, I can feel it, and I know it.” Closing his eyes, he shakes his head. I have no doubt that Lip is my brother, whether it be half or fully. But I don’t think Frank was talking shit.
“Probably, he’s always been full of shit,” I lie. I’ve always been jealous of Lip and my mother’s close friendship, but it’s something I don’t want to take away from him. Not anymore anyway.
“If you ever need us, or not, and just want to shoot the shit or play some pool…give me a call.”
“You mean you might actually pick up the phone if I call?” I jab with a smile on my face. Trying to cut the awkward tension surrounding the foreignness of our bonding.
“We’ll see. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” he jokes laughing.
The elevator doors open, and the garage is empty of police.
Shadow leans over and opens the passenger door of the SUV, urging Lip to get in.
“Later, bro.”
“Later,” I whisper.