Chapter 13

Leo

The music thumping relentlessly off the walls isn’t clearing my head like I expected it to.

For that matter, neither are the naked women dancing to it.

I made a fucking mistake tonight—more than one, come to think of it—and I can’t seem to shake the fact.

As if throwing all that money away and effectively traipsing a weakness around in front of Lawson weren’t bad enough; now, I’ve gone and complicated things with Kristen.

Truly, this day has been one hell of an impressive screw up. With my luck, it’ll only get worse from here.

I toss back the remnants of my scotch, raising the glass in the air at the nearest waitress as soon as it’s drained.

It’s either my third or fourth since arriving. Frankly, I’ve still got a long way to go if I plan on drowning out the nagging voices in my head.

“Get you another?” the waitress asks, her tits bouncing as she approaches.

I just nod, not really in the mood for the theatrics tonight.

Lucky for me, she’s the sort that can take a hint. She grabs my glass with a smile, turning to leave. I don’t even bother to watch her go.

How the fuck am I gonna fix this mess?

It’s this thought above all others that’s really unnerving me. I can accept my decisions over the last few hours, knowing that there were reasons behind most—if not all—of them.

The thing I don’t understand, though, is exactly what to do now.

I’ve still got Lawson to deal with, dangerous and conniving as the bastard is, just waiting for me to go ahead and drop the ball on his latest plan.

I’m currently down over a million dollars.

I’ve got Kristen tucked away in my apartment, stubborn and brave in ways that I still can’t quite understand—and not for a lack of trying. And as if that weren’t bad enough, I’ve still got the taste of her on my lips. A taste that, somehow, is managing to do more for me than every dancer in this place combined.

And things were so simple when I woke up this morning.

The waitress reappears with my scotch, and I slip her a fifty before she can speak.

“Anything else?” she asks, raising an eyebrow at her tip.

“Nope.”

Still looking unconvinced, she turns to go.

I’d gladly pay twice that to not have her hanging around, so I consider it a bargain. Silence—duly bought and desperately needed. Well, not silence per se, but lack of conversation, which is good enough for me.

“Leo!”

Fuck.

I turn towards the greeting, immediately spotting Benny amid the mass of swarming buddies. And here I thought I had more time before he showed.

“Hey man!” he calls, crossing over to me. “There you are.”

I finish my new drink in a single gulp. “Here I am.”

He laughs. “I’d ask what’s with the long face, but I’d probably be depressed, too, if I just spent over a million on some prissy virgin.”

“Oh, good,” I quip sarcastically, “you’ve heard.” It’s all I can seem to muster right about now.

“No, shit, I’ve heard. Fucking lunacy like that is worth repeating.”

“Don’t start, Benny.”

“Don’t start what, thinking straight? Tell you what, I’ll stop right now if you start, man.”

I can’t help but laugh at that; he does have a point, after all. What the fuck am I doing?

“At least tell me you’ve had a chance to break her in,” he says, taking the seat across from me.

The laughter dies in my throat. “Enough, Benny.”

“Oh! Hit a bit of a soft spot, huh? So, I take that as a yes then.”

“Fuck you.”

He leans in closer, setting his elbows on the table, and studying my face as if there are answers to be found there.

“Oh. Maybe not, then. Something happened though, right?”

Well, I’ll be damned. Maybe there are some answers there after all. “Just drop it, okay?”

He throws his hands up dramatically. “Come on, Leo, you’ve gotta give me something here!”

I groan, running a hand idly through my hair. “All I know, right now, is that I need to figure out what the fuck to do with her.”

“Now that I can help with! Just say the word, man. I’d be happy to take her off your hands.”

“Benny…”

“What? One of us ought to get some use out of her. You can’t just ignore the poor thing.”

“Hilarious. Now shut the fuck up.”

He laughs too loudly at his own stupid joke before waving down the waitress from earlier.

I listen to him order, pulling out my phone to check the time. “Actually,” I cut into his flirting, “cancel that.”

“What, why?”

I hold my phone up for his inspection. “Time to go.”

He groans but doesn’t argue.

After all, Benny might talk a lot of shit, but he’s as reliable as they come. Especially when it’s Lawson he has a meeting with.

“Lead the way,” he instructs irritably.

It’s a bit of a stretch to the docks, but this time of night, it doesn’t take too long to reach them. Ten minutes finds me pulling into our usual parking spot. Another five, and we’re approaching Lawson himself.

He grins as he lays eyes on us, whispering something into the ear of whatever young girl is currently hanging on his arm.

“I see you brought company!” Benny says happily, inclining his head in her direction.

“Nicolette,” Lawson announces simply, receiving a grin from her as he pulls her tighter against him.

“Nice to meet you,” Benny chimes, throwing in a wink for good measure.

“Likewise,” she purrs.

“Alright,” Lawson says, projecting more than is strictly necessary, “pleasantries out of the way, let’s get down to business.”

“Sure thing, boss,” Benny says, taking a step closer, “what can we do for you on this fine night?”

Lawson smirks, opening his mouth to reply. Whatever he means to say is quickly lost, though, drowned beneath the sound of squealing tires.

“What the fuck?” I ask aloud, though I’m sure no one can hear me.

I turn just in time to spy the black SUV tearing towards us. “Fuck, get down!” I yell, frantically looking around for cover. Unfortunately for us, there’s precious little of it nearby.

Lawson grabs for Nicolette, pulling her roughly behind a nearby garbage can just as the SUV swings around. I spot the barrels poking through the window the same moment that the familiar sound of gunfire tears through the air.

My feet are moving of their own accord, propelling me towards a nearby crate. Even in my surprise, though, I can see it’s a long shot.

“Benny!” I yell, turning quickly to find him.

My eyes land on him the exact moment that the first bullet hits. I seem to process it in slow motion, the blood exploding from his back, the way he seems to cave in on himself the moment of impact.

“Benny!”

I start towards him, feeling a bullet whiz dangerously near my shoulder. It misses, somehow, but Benny isn’t so lucky. The next three take him high in the chest, more blood splattering around him as they land.

I know the moment it happens that he’s dead. I know it even before he fully crumples to the ground.

Giving up on my rescue mission, I turn back towards the crate, feeling another bullet narrowly miss me as I launch myself towards it.

Almost there.

You know, it’s surprisingly true what they say about being shot. The bluntness of it all, the shock.

I always kind of doubted it before, but even knowing my current predicament, I still wonder at the heavy force that seems to slam into me the moment before I reach cover. I have just enough time to wonder how someone’s managed to punch me in the middle of a gunfight before the cold weight of reality settles on me.

With it, the awareness of blood already pouring down my back.

I manage to reach the crate, collapsing behind it as wood fragments explode around me. As soon as I get to relative safety, the real pain sets in.

Like magic, the blunt ache is suddenly replaced with a searing sharpness. Like a hot poker set deep into the flesh of my back. My vision blurs at the edges, darkness pressing in on the world around me.

I try to block it out, try to force my mind to focus on surviving. If I can manage that, there will be time enough to pass out later. Sometimes, though, thought alone can’t overcome.

I feel myself leaning, my body suddenly heavy, my eyelids seemingly attached to weights.

Again, I hear the squeal of tires, muffled voices that seem to recede by the second. I know this means something—something important, even—but my curiosity is quickly being overwhelmed by my complete and utter exhaustion.

“Benny?” I hear myself ask.

And then there’s nothing.