Chapter 27
LAKE
Beasty ran.
One second she was getting off the sidewalk, and the next she bolted.
"Beasty!" Kim took off after her. After half a second of hesitation, Joaquin and Atlas followed.
"Don't let that fucker die. And don't let him go," I called to Parker and Books, as I sprinted after them.
My mind raced with what could have made Beasty run.
I was numb to the violence, the adrenaline in my veins doing something funny to my body. Instead of the boost of power that usually came with it, I was buzzing with nothingness.
It was hard for me to break apart. In fact, I didn't have time for it.
As feeling started to return to my body, I had one thought.
Get to Beasty.
We hadn't come this far to lose her. We wouldn't lose any of us.
When I cleared the side street, following them down a back alley, Beasty yelled. "Stop!"
They were ahead of me, and the chain-link fence shook as a man jumped on it.
Holy fuck. That was why she ran. She saw someone.
He was halfway up the fence when she started climbing. Grabbing the back of his shirt, she yanked, putting her weight into it. The chain-link rattled, the man grunted, but he lost his hold.
He fell, and Beasty jumped out of the way right before he thudded on the ground.
I reached Beasty and the others as they crowded around the man. He wheezed, rocking from side to side as he glared at Beasty. He wasn't a Pesci, I was almost certain. But he had a camera hanging around his neck and two guns on his waist, even though he was dressed like Mr. Fucking Rogers.
Cocking my head, I kept snagging on his nose and eyes. There was something familiar about him.
"This is the guy who wanted an intro to us. The same one I saw at the club that day." Beasty pointed at him accusingly.
Ah, that was why he was familiar. I’d fed his picture into our database. Only then his hair had been a little longer than the buzz cut it was now.
"I'll take this." Kim bent down and snagged the camera, pulling the device so hard, the strap around this guy’s neck snapped. He grunted as he eyed each of us.
He was too calm as he clocked every face, every weapon, and where everyone's hands were.
I had no fucking idea who this man was, but he wouldn't live to do anything with the information he’d collected. From how he was handling what should be a very fear-inducing situation, he wasn't a run of the mill man.
He was an enemy.
Kim whistled as he clicked through the photos. I walked around to peek at the screen.
There were dozens—fuck, hundreds of pictures. Some were of the street fight. He’d caught Beasty hunkered down with a frown pinching her brow and her gun pointed at the ground. One was me shooting inside the police car.
Joaquin and Atlas aimed at the Christmas shop, the ends of their guns lit up as the bullets expelled at the exact moment he took the picture.
"Who are you?" I asked. I'd seen enough to know the entire card was probably pictures of us.
The man clamped his lips shut.
"Who. The. Fuck. Are. You?" I gripped his shirt and raised his top half off of the concrete. When he was up, I saw his hand flash toward his side, but I was quicker. I shoved the barrel of my gun to his forehead. "Atlas, get his weapons."
"Done." Both were pulled off of him.
The man still didn't answer. Lucky for him, I didn't have the itch to hurt him. Not after killing half a dozen men, at least. I stood, bringing him with me. He wasn't light, but he certainly didn't have anything on me.
"Let's take this asshole back to the club. See if we can identify him." I stood him in front of me, spinning him around and giving him a swift kick in the ass to get him walking. "One wrong move from you, and you're dead. We'll have to identify your corpse."
A tremor ran through his shoulders, but he was otherwise quiet.
The walk back took about five minutes. In the heat of the moment, I hadn't realized how far Beasty had gone to catch this guy.
The town was still eerily quiet and Books stood off to the side, talking on his phone as Parker and Grey had about twenty men on the ground with their hands behind their heads.
Jorge came out of the Christmas shop. "It's all clear except for the woman who says she owns this place."
"Is she part of their club?" Parker asked, arms crossed as he surveyed the men.
"She says no, but we can't be sure."
"I want to talk to her." Beasty rushed around us, heading straight for the doorway.
Jorge didn't move out of her way as he looked to Parker and Grey.
"Why?" Parker asked as Grey went from man to man, pulling their weapons, tossing them into a pile.
"Because..." She glanced back at us. "Because I think she's gotten the same treatment as our friend Desiree. I want to make sure."
Parker nodded, and Jorge stepped aside.
"I'll go with her," Kim said as he chased after her.
"Us too. Don't do anything stupid out here." Joaquin clapped me on the back as he and Atlas followed.
It felt good knowing they were going to watch over her. I trusted them more than anyone in this place, even Books. And I was a big boy. I could take care of myself.
The man in front of me slowed his steps, each one a stiff shuffle of his feet. "Parker," I called.
He turned toward me, eyeing the man with mild interest. "Bystander?"
"No." I nudged him forward with the barrel of my gun to the back of his head. "He's been following us for a while. He also had a camera full of evidence against us."
Grey walked over and searched his pockets. "No wallet."
"Here." Parker took the man's picture and did something with it. Probably texted one of his people. "We'll see what Andre can come up with. Now," Parker turned to address the men on the ground.
They were a surly bunch, with dirt and debris stuck to their clothes. Half watched Parker in resignation, and the other half with hatred.
"As for your club, there will be some changes. First, Danny is dead. My good friend here took care of him when he made the mistake of chasing him."
I made a noise in the back of my throat, but none of the men looked surprised.
"Donnie is ours now. You won't be getting him back either."
"Good riddance," one of the men said, then spit on the ground.
"Luke!" The guy next to his shoulder checked him.
"Oh, this is interesting. Why good riddance? And don't worry, you won't offend me." Parker waved his hand like he was some character on stage.
"You're happy to let him handle this?" Books stopped next to me, speaking out of the corner of his mouth.
"Why wouldn't I be?" I returned. I hated the spotlight.
I wanted to be the biggest, baddest piece on the board, but if Parker wanted the limelight with people who would be dead soon, he could have it as long as he served our interests. Him standing up for us, backing us, could achieve just as much.
Luke glared at his buddy before turning back to Parker.
"I knew Don. He was my godfather. He loved his grandsons, but they both had shit for brains.
He would never have wanted them to lead us.
He would have picked one of his officers first." He scrunched up his face.
"This is everything he feared would happen. "
"I agree, Donnie and Danny did make a mess of things." Parker nodded congenially.
It pissed off some of the men. "Who the fuck even are you?" A guy in the back yelled. He was young, probably Beasty's age.
"You shouldn't care who I am, you should care who he is." Parker pointed at me. "He's the one who killed Danny. He's also the one who came here to kill Donnie. It was a run of bad luck that Gio and Adrian beat us to the scene."
There was grumbling all around. They didn't like Gio, not after he attacked them today.
"He's a fucking worthless rat. Don made a mistake leaving the club," he stressed that word like we didn’t know they were the mafia, "to him. If he even did."
Grey leaned back on the cop car, crossing his arms as if he was bored while Parker contemplated the man. "You wouldn't follow Gio?"
A varying chorus of no's and fuck no's came from the men.
A mischievous light flickered in Parker's eyes.
I didn't like it one fucking bit. "How I see it, we can't allow you to continue to make trouble.
It's bad for everyone's business, and your own interests to be frank.
I have two options. You can all die. Not my favorite because a mass cleanout like this draws more eyes than I'd like, and there are already plenty of bodies to cause us issues. .."
What the hell was he talking about? Death was the only option. I took a step toward him, fisting my hands, and searing him with my eyes.
The fucker turned back to the group, the side of his cheek lifting in amusement.
The men grew still like they didn't want to breathe crossways, afraid Parker would mow them all down. I didn't blame them. If anything, I was surprised they still had this much desire to live. The two men in our Gray Room hadn't. They'd been resigned to death, wanted it over torture.
But Parker wasn't torturing anyone. Yet.
"Or you can get a new leader, one that we trust. So let me ask you a question. Would you follow him?"
Parker leveled me with a sneaky-ass stare as all the men twisted their heads to look at me.
I was going to fucking kill him.