Chapter 26
twenty-six
H e didn’t say anything at first, and it could have been the injuries preventing him from speaking, or he could be feeling the same unbelievable shock I was. “Ev?” Preston finally rasped.
I flew out of the chair, dropping down beside him, no longer caring about getting blood or dirt on me. “Oh my god. It’s you. It’s really you.” I hadn’t wanted to be right. I hadn’t wanted the messed-up, bleeding, beaten man to be my ex. But he was. I lifted my hand to touch him but paused halfway to his face, unsure if it was safe. Touching him would cause more pain than he was clearly already in.
Preston swayed slightly, and I feared he would collapse to the ground again if I didn’t help him. “Ev,” he repeated my name in disbelief. “You’re really here.”
Putting my arm around his back, I leaned into him, offering my body as a support beam and sitting him up. “Unfortunately,” I mumbled. “What are you doing here?” I asked.
“I-I don’t know,” he stammered, looking more confused than I was comfortable with.
Scanning his surface injuries, I wondered if he’d suffered a concussion or worse. Visibly he bled from the outside, but what about internally? I was no doctor, but he had a nasty gash near his temple, a cut on his lip, and one of his eyes was swollen shut. He also had an injury to his side I couldn’t see from under his clothes, but he pressed a hand there.
He hissed at the touch of my fingers on his chin.
Blistering anger on Preston’s behalf laced through my veins, accompanied by a healthy dose of disgust. I swung my gaze to Angelo. “What’s wrong with you? Why did you drag his brother into this? I wasn’t enough leverage?” I seethed, not caring I was snapping at a potential gang boss.
Angelo stood and clapped, the sound echoing through the warehouse like he’d just witnessed a performance worthy of a standing ovation. “What a touching reunion.” His lips curved. “An interesting assumption, but if you remember, I hadn’t known you were coming, sugar. Besides, Preston needed a reminder of what happens when you cross me.”
“Do you have any idea how fucked up this is?” I shot back.
He crossed his tattooed arms over his chest. “Does your moral compass include stealing as fucked up? If so, you’re pointing the finger at the wrong criminal.”
Angelo might have a pretty face, but I found him grotesque. “You’re a monster.”
“Boss, we got a problem,” one of his Crows interrupted, his chest heaving as if he’d been running.
Angelo dragged his gaze away from me to glance at his guy. They exchanged a silent look. The message didn’t seem good. Those callous brown eyes returned to me, his lips set into a hard line, no touch of amusement as he came to stand over Preston. “Watch him for me, sugar.” Angelo’s boot came down on Preston’s hand, pinning it to the concrete. A sickening crunch followed taken over by Preston’s howl of excruciating pain.
“Stop!” I screamed when Angelo wouldn’t let up.
The heartless smile on his lips caused my stomach to pitch. He lifted his foot. “Oh, and think again about trying to escape. I’d hate for one of my guys to shoot someone as pretty as you.”
“Let her go,” Preston weakly croaked. He was in no shape to make demands as he cradled his hand. “You got me.”
Angelo pulled something out of his pocket, and for a breath-stealing second, I thought for sure it would be his gun, but it was only his phone. “Turns out she’s a better hostage. Wish I would have known she was fucking your brother instead of you.”
That was just cruel, and I searched the floor around me for something to hurl at Angelo’s head, but he’d already turned his back to me, going into the office.
I scowled at the dick for another moment, wishing the daggers in my eyes were real and could sink into him. Then I shifted my focus to my ex. “Preston, Christ. Your hand.”
He hissed and jerked his arm back at the touch of my fingers. He didn’t say anything for a minute, his body shaking.
“I think it might be broken,” I said, fracturing the awkwardness. I shifted my body so I sat cross-legged on the concrete, Preston’s weight taking its toll on my shoulder.
He seemed to realize how much of his weight he leaned on me and again tried to sit up and steady himself. He managed marginally, groaning and moaning. “I’m sure that’s not the only thing broken. Pretty sure I have a cracked rib or two.”
I had so much I wanted to say to him, but at the foremost was one question. “What did Angelo mean about crossing him?”
“Come on, Ev,” he scoffed as if it was so obvious and everyone but me knew. “You haven’t figured out what a fuckup I am yet?”
I hated hearing him talk about himself like this despite how I felt. But what I hated more was how his tone implied I wasn’t smart enough. How could someone unknowingly be such an inconsiderate asshole? “Even if I did, what does that have to do with Angelo and the Crows?”
“Jesus, why are you on a first-name basis with him ?” he spat with justifiable venom.
I couldn’t get over his face. It was like he wore Halloween makeup. It didn’t seem real. “Why did he beat you within an inch short of death?” I fired back.
He slumped against the pole, his shoulders sagging in a defeat Preston wasn’t known for. “It’s my fault. Tristan…” Preston groaned, not making a lot of sense.
The mention of his brother caught my attention. “Did you talk to Tristan? Where is he?” The questions sped out of my mouth. Had something happened to him? Was that why Preston was here looking like a middleweight boxer after a fight?
“I don’t know. Can you call him?”
“I don’t have my phone. Preston, what happened?” I pressed, my panic making me short with him. “What do you mean it’s your fault?”
His head dropped back, and despite the swollen nature of his face, something like regret descended into his features. “I owe Angelo money.”
I wasn’t shocked, but I was also alarmed. “How much?” I almost was afraid to ask him why he owed someone like Angelo money.
“More than I have access to,” he sighed dejectedly, eyes closing briefly.
I took the end of my borrowed hoodie’s sleeve and dabbed it carefully at Preston’s temple. “Why would you owe him money?” It didn’t make sense to me, not when Preston’s parents took care of everything. Money had never been a problem for him. What changed?
He shrugged as best as he could in his current condition. “It started as poker night with the boys, but then Oliver took me to a higher stakes game. We won. It was quick cash. So, we went back a few more times. We kept winning. The streak continued to roll until it didn’t. I hadn’t realized how high the pot was the first time I lost, and I told myself I just needed one big win to make it back, but…”
Oliver was Preston’s closest friend. We’d never really gotten along but tolerated each other for Preston’s sake. “Let me guess, you kept losing.”
He nodded. “I didn’t have the money, not without dipping into my fund, and to do that, I needed my parents’ approval.”
“You went to Tristan for help,” I guessed, remembering every time Tristan had saved his brother’s ass or covered for him. They might not be as close as they were when they were younger, but there was nothing Tristan wouldn’t do for family, including breaking all the fucking rules.
“Yeah. I stopped. I told myself I would never play another game. I promised Tristan I was done. And then you showed up at my dorm, and I saw you with him . I spiraled. I started drinking and hitting the tables, staying out all night. I skipped my classes.”
“So, you basically got swindled like a bunch of dumbass rich boys. What the fuck, Preston.” My hand was in the air, inches from shoving him before I halted, remembering his fragile state. “Tristan is out doing God knows what because you owe a shark money.”
Preston snorted. “You’re worried about him when I look like this,” he said with the woe-is-me attitude he did so well.
“You’re unbelievable,” I snorted, irritation flaring. “You have no one to blame but yourself for your problems. You and only you got yourself into this mess, but the worst part is, you drag everyone else down with you.”
Wincing, he leaned a bit more to the side he favored, his breathing coming with difficulty. “You’ve changed.”
“Yes. I have. I woke the fuck up.” I couldn’t believe it had been Preston this whole time, not Tristan. I’d wrongfully blamed Tristan for so many things, and the prick let me think it was him. He’d protected his little brother and the image Preston tried so hard to keep up. For as selfish as Preston was, Tristan was equally selfless. Flashes of every weird thing that happened to me in the last few months flipped through my memory. The guys who threatened me at school. The ones who jumped Sam and me on campus. Tristan acting ridiculously overbearing, more so than usual.
Preston’s aqua eyes scanned the warehouse, suddenly becoming more alert of his surroundings. “We need to get out of here,” he whispered.
I wanted to feel nothing, but the reality of his condition made my heart twist. Despite everything, there had been a time when I’d loved him—when he’d been someone I trusted. But that was before the lies, before he cheated on me, before he got a girl pregnant, and before everything went wrong. “And how do you propose we do that? He has guys stationed everywhere,” I said, deliberately avoiding using Angelo’s name.
Preston’s eyes zeroed in on something in the warehouse, and I followed his stare.
Surprise fluttered in my chest and made me question what I was seeing. “I-Is that your car?” I stuttered.
“Not anymore.”
My gaze dashed to his. “You gambled your car? Are you insane?”
“I’m fucked. That’s what I am. And now you are too.”
Thanks a lot, asshole. That’s what I wanted to say. “Yeah, because of you. Why would you involve me?”
“I didn’t. Not intentionally. I might have talked about you during the games,” he admitted, his head hanging low.
“And Angelo’s guys took note,” I muttered.
“I didn’t know about his crew or that they ran the games. You’re my girlfriend. Were my girlfriend,” he corrected. “He threatened to hurt you if I didn’t pay.”
“Why didn’t you ask me for the money?”
“I couldn’t.” Shame glimmered in his eyes. “I didn’t want to destroy what we had, but it didn’t matter in the end. I still managed to ruin things.”
“Is that what Tristan’s doing? Getting you the money?”
Pain strained his voice. “I doubt he has that much.”
“No shit.” I shook my head. “I can’t believe you. No, you know what. What I can’t believe is that I ever thought I loved you. That you were a good guy. How could I have been so wrong about you?”
“Regardless of how you feel about me, we need to get to my car.” He dropped his voice. “There’s a gun under the seat.”
My eyes widened. “You have a gun?” I hissed lowly, making sure no one but Preston could hear me.
His one good eye just held mine, the other too swollen to be able to see out of.
“Tristan?” I guessed where he’d obtain such a weapon.
His silence and tightening of his mouth confirmed what I suspected. “Don’t give me your holier-than-thou attitude. You had sex with my brother. You don’t get to judge me.”
“Then you never should have involved me. I shouldn’t be sitting here as a hostage,” I said through gritted teeth. He was lucky I didn’t stick my finger in one of his wounds.
Two of Angelo’s men came around the corner, eyeing Preston and me before entering the office. “You never told me how you ended up here,” Preston said lowly.
My spine stiffened as I became more aware of what was happening and focused less on Preston. “Does it matter?”
“My brother,” he rasped, coming to the right conclusion, his coloring paling.
“What of it?” I retorted, my fingers moving his shirt’s hem. I needed to see the injuries to his chest. They were clearly hurting him.
He didn’t protest as I lifted his shirt. “Are you guys dating or something?”
I sucked in a breath. Shit . He was right about the broken ribs, and tomorrow morning, if we survived this night, he’d be one black and blue motherfucker. “It’s none of your business who I do or don’t date.”
“He’s just sleeping with you. So very Tristan-like.” His voice was laced with anger, scorn, and hurt. “But why would he bring you here? That’s out of character for him.”
Letting his shirt drop back over his chest, I moved away. There was nothing I could do to ease his pain. Physically or mentally. “You didn’t give him much of a choice. Angelo’s crew came to our house. Tristan made me leave. Do you know he’s out there right now doing God knows what to protect us? I swear, Preston, if anything happens to him, I’ll kill you if Angelo doesn’t.”
Angelo laughed from the doorway of his office. What bothered me more wasn’t the amusement on his features but that I hadn’t felt his eyes on me. How long had he been watching Preston and me? We’d been so self-absorbed in our bickering.
I pinned Angelo with a glower, tired of him finding me so damn amusing, which only made his smirk intensify.
He leaned a shoulder on the door frame, twirling a lighter between his fingers. “She’s right, you know. You really are a fool, letting a girl like her slip through your fingers. It’s no wonder your brother swooped in and stole her right under your nose.”
“You bastard.” Preston started to rise, lunging toward Angelo.
Good thing I was quick. I bolted to my feet and ran after him, grabbing the back of his bloodied shirt. “Preston, don’t!” I tugged. Normally, I would never have the strength to stop him, but Angelo’s men had done a number on him. “Haven’t you gotten your ass kicked enough for one day?”
“She has a point.” Angelo flickered the lighter off and on, and the expression on his face said he would be more than happy to accommodate Preston and give him another lashing.
I had to intervene. Preston couldn’t take another beating, and I wasn’t sure I could stomach it. Scrambling forward, I positioned myself in the middle, keeping a hand pressed to Preston’s chest in case he got any more stupid ideas in his head. Clearly, he wasn’t thinking straight.
But my mind wasn’t precisely in the right space either. Angelo had a gun, and I had…my wits—not exactly a fair fight.
If I got Preston’s gun…I might be able to raise the odds but not by much considering we were still outnumbered. We could use surprise to our advantage.
But how would I get to the car without raising suspicion?
Angelo held the lighter, the yellow-orange flame flickering as he passed his finger through it. “Your girlfriend has more balls than you ever had, little Malone. I’d be disappointed if she hadn’t dumped your sorry ass.”
Preston flinched behind me, but I pressed my hand harder into his chest, careful of his ribs. “He needs medical help. Let him go,” I pleaded. “I told you I would willingly stay.”
The lighter extinguished, and Angelo’s dark gaze moved over my shoulder to Preston. “You’re really going to let a girl sacrifice herself for you?”
“Fuck you,” Preston spat.
Angelo tsked like he was scolding a toddler. “Maybe I should fuck her instead.” His eyes shifted to me, leisurely raking over my body as he sucked on his lower lip.
A new dose of fear slammed into me. One I hadn’t let my mind consider before. The idea my body would be used and violated by any of these men was a place I refused to go until Angelo gave me no choice.
“I’ll kill you,” Preston said darkly. This time, I couldn’t stop Preston as he charged at Angelo, but the boss knocked Preston to the ground with a single strike. Ice ghost nails raked down my back as I watched Preston hit the concrete, rendering him unconscious and leaving me alone.
Fuck.
Before Preston woke up and made any other stupid mistakes that got us both killed, two of Angelo’s guys grabbed him. “Restrain the idiot,” Angelo ordered the two of them. They dragged Preston’s limp body away, taking him across the warehouse and zip-tying his hands and feet together. They left him in the shadows unconscious, fresh blood trickling down the side of his face.
The tears couldn’t be stopped. They pooled in my eyes, clouding my vision as I stared at a watery outline of Angelo. I had two choices. I could continue being compliant and pray Tristan came back before Angelo broke me, or I could find a way to get to Preston’s gun. Even after I got the weapon, would I be able to use it? Could I shoot someone to protect myself…protect Preston?
As I trembled inside, glaring at Angelo, I knew I could.
Angelo watched me as he snatched a cigarette pack from a nearby table outside the office, pulling out the slim white stick. He put it between his lips.
“You’re heartless.”
“There’s no other choice in this business. The weak get trampled,” he said, the cigarette bouncing with his words as he kept it in his mouth. He held the pack out to me, his brows lifting in offer.
I shook my head, wrapping my arms around myself. “No thank you,” I replied bitchily.
Angelo’s lips curled as he lifted the lighter and lit the cancer stick. “It might take the edge off, sugar.”
“It’s going to take a lot more than a cigarette.” I’d need a damn tranquilizer to get through this night. I glimpsed Preston, envying his blissful forced slumber.
Angelo took a long drag, inhaling the nicotine. “A drink perhaps then?” A puff of white smoke clouded the air around his face, its odor clogging the room.
Honestly, a drink sounded fucking fantastic. “Sure. I could use a drink.”
Angelo snapped his fingers, his eyes never wavering from me as he silently summoned one of his crew members to get us a drink. His members were quick.
Beefcake, the asshole from earlier, handed me a glass with fancy ice and an amber liquid. I took the drink and knocked it back, not considering it could be laced or poisoned until after it was gone.
Fuck it.
Angelo raised a single brow, his scar lifting with the movement. “Better?”
Making a face as the burn worked its way through my system, I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. “Far from it. You could let me go.”
Beefcake took my empty glass and headed into the office without saying a word, but the leering look he gave me said plenty.
“Clever, but you know I can’t do that. You should come work for me,” Angelo suggested, and I nearly fell over.
Was he actually trying to recruit me right now?
Needing support for my tired and still shaky legs, I lifted my chin and moved to the nearest car, leaning against it. “Why would I do that?”
“Because you can make a hell of a lot more money than with any degree you earn at college.”
“I don’t need money.”
His lips twitched. “Right, your daddy’s swimming in the bucks, especially after the death of your mom.”
My fists curled at my sides. “Don’t talk about her.”
He lifted his hands in the air. “Off-limits. Got it.” Lowering his arms, he flicked the end of his cigarette, sending ashes sprinkling to the ground. “Perhaps another drink is in order.”
“Make it a double,” I said, hatching a stupid plan.
Those damn brows arched again as if I continued to surprise him and he couldn’t be more pleased.
Revulsion twisted in my gut.
Taking another pull on his cigarette, Angelo tossed it onto the concrete before stomping it out with his boot and turning to go into the office, essentially giving me a few moments to myself. Well, not entirely, but no one was paying me much attention. I could hear voices in other parts of the warehouse, and the two guys stationed near Preston were busy shooting the shit with each other.
The second Angelo disappeared from my view, I moved, scurrying around the cars toward Preston’s and not wasting the gifted few moments. I wouldn’t get another chance. This was it, and I better not fuck it up.
I dropped to the ground, giving my heart a second to chill the heck out. It was working triple time. While my heart pounded in my ear, I listened, verifying I hadn’t been detected missing yet.
I could only afford a few rapid heartbeats. It was now or never.
Gliding my hand up the side of the driver’s door, I held my breath while my fingers worked on the handle, unlatching it as quietly as humanly possible. The overhead lights beamed inside the interior. If there was ever a time to be stealthy and swift, it was right fucking now.
A combination of terror and relief twined through me as my fingers touched the cool metal of the gun. Now what, Ever? Did I just whip the gun up and point it at the bastard and say freeze motherfucker?
My hand shook as I pulled the weapon out from under the seat, the weight of it in my hand heavier than I imagined. Staring at the thing, I rocked back on my heels, knowing I needed to do something other than freak out.
“You’re going to hurt yourself with that, sugar. Give me the gun.”
God, that fucking voice. I seriously never wanted to hear it again. It caused agony and horror inside me. Tightening my hold, I shot to my feet, spinning around simultaneously as I pointed the gun at Angelo’s head. “Or I could blow your brains out.”
Pride beamed inside me at the flicker of surprise in his eyes, but he quickly covered it with an unbalanced smirk. “I would advise against it if you want to live. If you want him to live.” He indicated Preston with a nod. “Or perhaps it’s Tristan’s life you should be concerned with.” The weapon pointed at his head didn’t intimidate him. It…excited him.
Sick asshole.
My eyes flinched at the mention of Tristan, and Angelo caught it, a costly mistake on my part. It gave him an edge over me.
Angelo took a step closer, the end of the gun an inch from his forehead. “That’s what I thought. You’re in love with the older Malone, not the younger. For how long, sugar? How long have you harbored such strong feelings for your boyfriend’s brother?” he taunted, doing his best to unnerve me and succeeding.
I knew what he was doing, chatting me up to get me to lower my guard. My fingers reaffirmed their grip on the gun. “It doesn’t matter. My feelings are fucking irrelevant right now.”
He angled his head to the side, his eyes shifting to my hand, noticing how it trembled. I knew better than to take my eyes off him, even for an instant, but my eyes couldn’t help following Angelo’s gaze. It was enough to distract me for a fraction of a second, and that was all he needed. Angelo’s hand shot out so fast I barely had time to register what was happening, and then his fingers were on the barrel of my gun, twisting it out of my grasp.
A slice of pain went through my wrist from the angle it contorted, but my main concern wasn’t the throbbing. I’d lost my only hope of control.
His other hand, the one with the many rings raised in the air, crossed over his chest.
Oh, shitttt ?—
He brought the back of his hand down on the side of my face. Fucking hard. Like really hard. The pain didn’t register. Not at first. It was shock, followed by anger, and then the splintering agony. Black dots swirled behind my eyes, and I stumbled into the car, afraid I skirted on the edge of passing out. Perhaps I would get my wish of being rendered unconscious, but being so close to falling into the depths of darkness, I panicked, clawing to my conscious state.
The bastard had backhanded me.
I cradled my cheek and lifted my head. My eyes burned into his with hate. “I should have put a bullet between your eyes.” And I vowed if I got the chance again I wouldn’t hesitate. I wouldn’t falter. I wouldn’t get distracted.
Angelo cleared his throat, tucking the gun behind his back, and snatched my arm. His fingers dug into my flesh as he warned, “You don’t want to find out what happens to people who betray me, sugar.”
I struggled, kicking and screaming for my life, no longer an obedient hostage. If he was going to hurt me, I wouldn’t make it easy for him, and if luck was on my side, perhaps I could get my hands on the gun again. Twisting and fighting as much as my body allowed, I reached behind him, feeling for the weapon. My fingers grazed the cool steel and?—
Bang!
A gun went off somewhere in the warehouse, echoing so fucking loud it felt like my ears were bleeding. Had I accidentally pulled the trigger? The buzzing continued to ring in my ears as I took stock of myself. Had I been hit? Had one of Angelo’s guys shot me? Had I shot Angelo? But I felt no pain. Sensed no wounds…no blood. And although his hold on me had lessened, he didn’t look like a man who’d taken a bullet.
“I thought I made it clear before I left…no one touches her.”
That voice. That sweet fucking voice.
I slumped into Angelo, sweet relief tearing through me like nothing I’d ever felt. “Tristan.” I sighed.