CHAPTER 22

Brock

The only sound in the waiting room came from the TV in the far corner. I had no idea how long we’d been there. Malcolm sat in the opposite corner, rocking Faith back and forth in his arms. They’d arrived not long after I’d returned to the waiting room, after cleaning myself up. Malcolm had been more worried about Miller and Faith when they arrived, but as time wore on, I could see the anger tensing his muscles. I’d sent a text to Amanda, but hadn’t gotten a response. She was probably asleep. At least if she woke up, she’d know where I was.

Ashton was seated to my right, while we waited for Elena and Tess to arrive. Miller had agreed to let Tess out of his sight for the night since she’d be with Elena at her show. Although she still had a guard watching her every movement. None of us expected Marcello’s organization to be that brazen.

The door flew into the wall.

“Where is he?” Tess stood there, her eyes red-rimmed and puffy, tears still trailing down her cheeks. Elena stood behind her, with an almost identical look.

Faith jumped up from Malcolm’s lap and moved to the door, wrapping Tess in her arms. Sobs tore from her throat as she buried her head in Faith’s neck and let go. “He’s in surgery now,” Faith whispered to her.

Elena moved around the two of them and straight into Ashton’s arms. Trying to give them time, I glanced away, only to catch Malcolm’s eyes. The hatred burning in their depths was underlined by a bit of fear. He knew what we all did for a living was dangerous. It was why I went to the games with Ashton, and why Miller had guards at the club and bar. It was easier to defend yourself when someone had your back. Then again, who would have ever expected someone to attack in public with at least a hundred witnesses?

Faith led Tess to a seat next to Malcolm, where they sat hand in hand, waiting for more news on Miller. Even in Faith’s hold, Tess’s hands trembled. My chest felt tight. Miller was like a brother to me. I looked down at my hands, where a few traces of Miller’s blood still lingered. No matter how hard I scrubbed, I couldn’t get it off.

Over and over, I replayed in my head the moments before Miller was shot, trying to figure out if there was something more I could have done. Hours passed as I tortured myself with what-ifs.

Eventually the door to the waiting room opened again. This time it was a doctor, still in his scrubs. Tess leapt from her seat toward the doctor. “How is he?”

“And you are?” the doctor asked, scanning the room.

“Tess Hawes. I’m Miller’s wife.”

Every head in the room snapped in her direction, including my own. I had no idea they’d gotten married. She didn’t seem to notice.

“Wife?” Faith breathed, using her grip to turn Tess to face her.

Tess’s eyes filled with tears. “We got married a few weeks ago in Vegas. I’m sorry we didn’t tell you.”

The doctor opened his mouth, but Malcolm stepped up and placed his hand on Tess’s shoulder, his eyes going to Faith. “We can talk about that later. We’re his parents,” he said, gesturing to Faith. “Is Miller okay?”

“Right now, he’s alive.” The doctor pointed to the chairs. “Let’s sit down.”

Malcolm’s eyes narrowed and for a moment I thought he would demand the details, but he seemed to sense that Faith and Tess needed to be seated to hear whatever the doctor had to say. He nodded and led the women back to their seats. The doctor brought a chair over to sit in front of them.

“My name is Dr. Wright. I was the surgeon on call when Mr. Hawes was brought in with a bullet wound to his chest. He’s currently in stable condition, but that could change at any time. He was lucky the bullet managed to miss his breast bone and heart, but it did shatter multiple ribs and punctured his lung.”

“Oh God,” Tess cried.

“We were able to repair the damage to his lung. We also used metal screws and bars to reconstruct his ribs. My bigger concern is the lack of oxygen to his brain while waiting for the medics to arrive. Unfortunately, we won’t know if there’s any damage until he wakes up.”

Faith wiped her eyes. “When can we see him?”

“He’s in ICU. We have him in a medically induced coma to give his lung a chance to heal, but I can allow two people back at a time. The next twenty-four hours will be the most critical. Once we know he’s stable, we’ll move him to his own room.”

Malcolm took Faith’s hand and placed it in Tess’s. “Go see him. The rest of us will wait here.”

Faith nodded and wrapped her arm around Tess’s shoulders, helping her from the chair. Silently, both women followed the doctor back out the door he arrived from. Malcolm stood and faced the door, his back straight as a board.

A sniffle came from Elena. I looked away from Malcolm to see her once again wrapped in Ashton’s arms.

“I can’t believe. . . they get. . .married. . .and now this,” she said between sobs.

Ashton placed his fingers under her chin, lifting her face to his. “Did you know?”

She shook her head, furiously swiping the wetness from her cheeks. “Not until tonight. She told me at dinner. They were planning on telling everyone this weekend. She didn’t want Faith to be upset.”

Ashton pulled her back into his arms, resting his chin on her head. “She wouldn’t have been upset. Dammit, I wish we’d known.”

I cleared my throat. “We’ll give him a hard time when he wakes up.”

The way they were talking made it seem as if it was over. That Miller wouldn’t wake up, but to keep focus, I had to believe he would.

Ashton offered me a slight smile and a nod. “Yes, we will.”

A loud bang echoed in the room. My head snapped to Malcolm, who’d slammed his fist against the glass window.

He whipped around. “Call Dean and Charlie. I want their asses here in ten minutes, no more.”

I nodded at Ashton, who pulled his phone out the same time I did. “I got Dean.”

“I’ll call Charlie,” he agreed.

Both men were on their way. Malcolm paced silently while we waited. Ashton went back to comforting Elena. Charlie passed through the door moments before Dean.

“Fuck, why didn’t someone call us earlier?” Dean said as he crossed the threshold.

“We were waiting until we had more news,” Malcolm said, the rage tightly controlled underneath a calm voice. “Miller’s in the ICU with a bullet hole in his chest. Ashton, Brock, and I are going to get things at the businesses settled, while you stay here and watch over the girls.”

Malcolm’s meaning couldn’t be more clear. They were to protect Tess, Elena, Faith, and Miller. No one was to get in to see any of them.

Elena’s eyes went wide, snapping to Ashton. “Do you have to go?”

Ashton pressed a soft kiss to her lips. “This time I do. Charlie and Dean won’t leave your side.”

“You got it,” Charlie said. “We’ll be here until you get back.”

Dean walked over and sat down next to Elena, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. We’ve got this, he mouthed.

Malcolm nodded stiffly and turned to Ashton and me. “Meet me back at the office.”

No one questioned what he wanted. Not there. We’d find out his plan when we got there. No one spoke as we left the waiting room, heading to our own cars.

 

***

 

Ashton and I sat in Malcolm’s office, waiting for him to get back to the house. I didn’t know how we beat Malcolm back to the house, but there we sat, checking our phones for any more news on Miller. According to the text Ashton received, Tess refused to leave until Miller opened his eyes and told her, ‘go the fuck home and get some sleep.’ I didn’t blame her. I hadn’t been home since I left Amanda at the house yesterday afternoon to head to the game. I still hadn’t heard back. Then again, I only had the chance to send one text, letting her know what had happened and where I’d be. Hopefully, she wasn’t blaming herself for what had happened, but until I was done with Malcolm, checking on her would have to wait.

“That motherfucking cunt.” Malcolm’s voice carried from the front room. He stormed into the office, slamming the door into the frame so hard it rattled.

“What the hell, Dad?” Ashton stood from his seat.

Malcolm threw a bunch of pictures onto the desk. “That conniving bitch ordered the hit on Miller.”

Ashton picked up one of the pictures and his eyes darted to me. Standing, I took another of the pictures off his desk. There was Amanda with Jimmy Delgado, sitting in a high-end restaurant. Anyone looking at the picture would see a woman in the height of fashion, having lunch with a man she might be dating. No one but someone who knew her would notice the way she gripped the fabric of her skirt. A nervous habit she had. Another picture showed him helping her from the car, her hand in his.

“Son of a bitch.” I dropped the pictures. “It wasn’t her,” I snapped at Malcolm and turned for the door.

Malcolm stepped in my path, vibrating with rage. As much as I wanted to get to my house and check on her, make sure she was okay, I had no intention of punching my boss out to make that happen. I needed his help to get her back. It wasn’t until that moment I realized I wanted no other man’s hands on her but mine. And I was going to rip any man who touched her limb from limb. Marcello’s death would seem compassionate compared to what I’d do to that fucker, even though I was certain she’d gone back to stop whatever Delgado had planned.

“Where the fuck are you going?” He stepped farther into my space. “’Cause you better start explaining what you just said.”

“Dad . . .”

“Don’t fucking start, Ashton. Your brother is lying in a fuckin’ hospital bed, and from the information and pictures I got this morning, Isobel Marcello is the cause of it.”

Ashton took a few steps away from his father. “Just hear him out. I don’t think it was her either.”

Malcolm’s head snapped around to his son, his voice deathly low as he said, “Did you just defend that bitch?”

“She didn’t fucking do it,” I roared, bringing Malcolm’s attention back to me. “She’s been at my house since the night I grabbed Marcello.”

Malcolm’s eyes blazed and the pulse throbbing in his temple was enough of a warning for me to duck out of the way of his fist, which hit nothing but air. “Are you tellin’ me you’ve been protecting Marcello’s wife since the night you took him? You were supposed to find her and figure out what she was planning. And all this fucking time, you knew where she was.”

I knew it could be the biggest mistake of my life, but I shoved Malcolm back. “Her name is actually Amanda Renville and he bought her from her father nine years ago to be his wife. She hasn’t done half the shit we all believed she had.”

Malcolm shoved me backward into the wall, his anger giving him enough strength to move me. He fisted his hands into my shirt and yanked me toward him so our faces were mere inches from each other.  “And you’re telling me you believed her sob story?”

“Jesus Christ, Malcolm. Do I look that stupid?” The muscles in my shoulders were so tense I thought they might snap, but I held my ground. Kicking the shit out of my boss wasn’t going to get me anywhere. “Amanda’s supposed death was what sent me to the underground fight club. Before that I planned on marrying her.”

Malcolm turned his rage-filled gaze to Ashton. I waited for Ashton to take another step back, but he held his ground. “And you believe this shit too?”

Ashton crossed his arms over his chest. “I didn’t at first, but I do now.”

Malcolm snarled, pointing to the desk. “Then how do you explain those pictures? They were taken yesterday afternoon.”

“Jesus fuck.” I pushed around Malcolm and ran for the front door. It didn’t matter what they thought at that point. I raced to the elevator, willing it to move faster when I pressed the lobby button inside. The second the doors opened, I was running for the valet. Amanda’s silence made sense. Now I needed to get to my house and figure out how the fuck they got to her and where they had her.

I tossed money at the valet as he was climbing out of my car. Tires squealed when I pulled away from the curb, people turning from every direction at the noise. I couldn’t care less. I needed to get back to my house now. I didn’t bother with the garage, throwing my car into park as soon as I was in the driveway. Somehow they managed to get in and out without alerting the neighbors. Everything from the outside looked normal. Something told me the inside wouldn’t be the same. I unlocked the front door and stopped. The living room was destroyed. Couches ripped and overturned, tables missing legs, pictures missing from the wall, but that wasn’t what caught my attention. It was the spots of blood on my carpet that had me grabbing the lamp from the table next to me and throwing it at the wall.

I moved farther into the house, following the droplets of blood to the back door, but that wasn’t where it originated. Probably where they came in or out. The trail eventually led me to my bedroom. Amanda’s new clothes were in a shredded heap on my floor.

They’d figured out where she was, which meant I couldn’t stay. My luck they were already on their way back to trap me. I didn’t have time to fight them off. I needed to get to Amanda before something happened to her. And I wasn’t going to give Malcolm a chance to stop me. I went to the safe I kept in the back of my closet and took out the Magnum. Some fucker was gonna die tonight.

I jumped back into the car, throwing rocks as I slammed my foot on the gas. The pictures showed Amanda with Delgado, dressed in clothes Isobel Marcello would wear. I knew the house would be a good place to start, but something told me I wouldn’t find her there. If they took her to use for show, they wouldn’t keep her in the height of comfort. It was more likely, they’d keep her in one of the warehouses downtown. I took off in that direction.

By the time I arrived, the sun was just peaking over the horizon. Not the best time to find her, but I didn’t have much of a choice. I didn’t want to think about what they might do to her, especially considering they’d found her at my house. I drove up a few blocks until I reached a restaurant parking lot. I wanted to be close enough to carry her and far enough that no one would see the car. After locking the door and setting the alarm, I made my way back down to the water on foot, careful to keep myself out of sight.

I moved behind one of the warehouses owned by Marcello. Cold metal touched the back of my head.

“Well, Brock, getting you here was easier than I thought it would be.” The voice was familiar, but I couldn’t place it. I knew it had to be one of Delgado’s men. “Now why don’t you put your weapons on the ground?”

I had two choices. I could attempt to overpower him and hope I was quick enough to avoid the bullet or follow his directions and look for an opportunity later after I let him lead me to where Amanda was. I’d always sworn I’d never let a woman get me in a position of getting myself killed. Yet, my recklessness led me to the marina without a plan and right into the hands of Marcello’s men. And I knew to save Amanda, I’d do it again.

There was no guarantee he’d take me there, but it happened to be my best chance to find her. I took out both guns and laid them on the ground.

The gun pushed harder into my skull. “I said weapons, not guns. Ditch the knives too.”

Slowly, I reached for the knife at my waist and at my ankle, laying them both on the ground next to my guns.

“Now turn around and don’t think about grabbing any of that shit. There’s more than one gun trained on you from different directions.”

I kept my hands up where he could see them and slowly turned to face him.

Delgado.

Jimmy Delgado stood before me. The gleam in his eye told me all I needed to know. Motherfucker played me. Then everything went black.