Chapter Nine. Eshe
CHAPTER NINE
Eshe
She’s okay. Penn’s going to be okay. She’s not like Ma. She’s coming back to me and will be as good as new.
I keep repeating this mantra in my head, trying to get it to sink in.
A punctured lung, ruptured spleen, broken arm.
The doctors are saying the swelling on her brain should go down soon.
In the grand scheme of things, her injuries could’ve been much worse.
She’s going to make a full recovery. But that logic doesn’t unravel or erase the filthy, snarled knot of guilt and dread in my gut.
So far, no luck. But I’m not giving up. Because once I stop chanting it, I’m afraid I’ll charge out of this loft and wage a war on the streets of Boston, flooding the gutters with blood in revenge …
I drag myself back from the edge. Steady myself from spiraling down a dark, crimson-drenched hole that I may not climb back out of until this murderous rage inside me is satisfied.
“Abena’s going to fucking pay for this,” Maura hisses, her usual smile missing, and the killer that lurks behind her pleasant expression is on full display.
“This wasn’t Abena,” I say, not removing my gaze from Penn. “Well, not directly.”
God, with her hazel eyes closed, her light brown skin mottled with bruises, and her long dark brown hair flat and tangled around her round face, she looks so … small. Defenseless.
Nah, fuck that.
Never defenseless.
Not as long as she has us here surrounding her.
“What do you mean this wasn’t Abena?” Tera demands. “Who else would come after us? Come after you?”
I glance up, not having realized that she and Nef entered the hospital room and closed the door behind them. The seven of us gather around Penn’s bed like a guard. Like a human shield between her and whoever is stupid enough to come after her.
“I said not directly. Since the Huntsman didn’t get the job done, she put out another hit on me. Tonight was the work of another assassin by the name of Poison. And I think the same person tried to take us out at the warehouse.”
“How do you know all this?” Nef’s dark brows arrow down over her equally dark eyes. She must really be worried about Penn in order to show that emotion on her face.
“The Huntsman.”
Quiet swells and thickens in the room as they all stare at me in varying degrees of disbelief.
Kenya tilts her head, confusion balling her face up. “Uh, one more time?”
I sigh. “The Huntsman. He pulled me out after the bomb went off and…”
“And?” Kenya and Maura damn near yell together.
“And he took me to a safe house and got me together. And fed me pizza.”
And gave me the best fucking orgasm I had in my life, but this ain’t the time or place to go into that.
“The fuck?” Sienna looks me up and down. “You sure we ain’t talking to your ghost right now? That’s two times you’ve come into contact with the fucking bogeyman and lived to tell the tale. That makes you either the luckiest mu’fucka walking or the aforementioned apparition.”
“Three times, but that’s neither here nor there.”
I wave off their assorted versions of “the hell” and “bitch, what’d you just say?” and “you’s a lie.”
“Anyway, the point is this assassin, who’s apparently some badass bitch who’s even deadlier than the Huntsman, is on my ass, and, by association, yours, too.
This”—I brush my hand down Penn’s arm, careful of the IV needle, and gently cradle her hand—“is what she’s capable of.
What we now have to look out for on top of whatever else bullshit Abena has planned or intends to send our way. ”
“And after Sienna sent that Donato shipment deep diving, the bullshit’s about to come hard and fast. Abena’s a cunt, not an idiot. She’s going to know who’s behind that even if she doesn’t have proof,” Doc says.
“And that’s all that matters. She can’t accuse me if she doesn’t have proof.” I jerk my chin at Sienna. “She doesn’t, right?”
Sienna mugs me, offended. “Seriously? As far as they know, while in the middle of transporting that container, the barge mysteriously caught fire. Probably an engine problem. Anyway, the whole thing ended up sinking, taking everything with it. Damn shame. But, hey, that’s what insurance is for.”
A cold, fierce satisfaction burns through me. Abena’s going to have a hell of a time explaining why millions of dollars’ worth of guns belonging to the mob now reside at the bottom of the Charles River.
“Poison, Venom, whatever the fuck his name is—” Tera growls.
“Her,” I correct.
“Huh?”
“Poison is a she.”
Surprise flickers across her face, but then it’s almost instantly replaced by a hard fury.
“Well, good for her equal-opportunity ass. Either way, she might’ve set the bomb, but it’s Abena who’s pulling the strings, still getting others to do her fucking wet work.
Penn is in this fucking bed because of her.
We already got our plans set in motion. Bisa, Taraji, Moorehead, and Richter said they can meet as soon as Wednesday of next week.
That’s a week from now. With their influence, manpower, and weapons, that’s damn near the numbers Abena has backing her. ”
I nod, anticipation a fire in my veins.
“Are they all willing to meet in one location?”
“Yeah.”
“Good. Set it up for Wednesday at nine P.M. in Buffalo. If all of us roll out to the meet, it’ll look suspect as hell. So, Tera, Nef, and Doc, you’ll go with me. Kenya, Maura, and Sienna, you’ll stay here and watch over Penn and keep our presence seen here in Boston to cover our absence.”
They murmur their agreement, the same feral eagerness that courses through me filling their faces.
“In the meantime, we keep the pressure on Abena. Hell is going to be coming her way from the Donatos. And a buy is scheduled for Thursday night from the plug. Coke and pills. Unlike that bullshit meet at the docks, I know this one is legit.” That’s another thing that will change.
How the fuck are the Mwuaji the biggest family in our region and yet we’re depending on someone else for our product?
We should be the fucking plug, and buyers should be coming to us.
“Sienna, Nef, and Maura? Take a team of soldiers that are loyal to us and make sure that buy doesn’t go down.
But don’t kill Abena’s people. Just the suppliers.
And if the Mwuajis there don’t take the drugs, you go in after they leave and take it.
Either way, shit gon’ be tight for Abena. ”
I smile at the thought.
“While she’s distracted with the shitstorm on her left hand, she’ll be blind to what’s happening on her right,” Tera murmurs.
My smile widens. “Exactly.” After a moment, it bleeds away. “While Penn is here, we take shifts watching over her. I’ll take the first one.” I slightly tighten my grip on her motionless hand, silently willing her to squeeze back, move a finger, any-fucking-thing.
But she remains so still. So quiet.
The door to the room opens, and we all turn, expecting the doctor or nurse. But that’s not who enters. Rage pumps through my veins like a virus, infecting my blood, every organ, every cell. In this moment, I’m created of fury.
“I came as soon as I heard,” Abena says, gliding farther into the room with Penn’s parents behind her. “I was so sorry to hear about our Penn’s injuries.”
Syrup practically drips from her words, her tone, but her eyes? Her eyes tell the true story. They gleam with an almost-gloating satisfaction. Maybe no one else sees it, but I catch the insincerity, the smugness underneath that saccharine voice.
I want to reach out and touch the bitch. With my knife.
It takes everything in me to remain next to Penn and not leap across this bed and bury my dagger into Abena’s throat.
“Thank you for coming by to check on our daughter,” Brian, Penn’s father, says. Grace, her mother, stands next to him. She lowers her dark gaze, but not before I glimpse the hatred there. She knows what’s up. She sees right through this snake shit Abena’s on. “My wife and I appreciate it.”
“Of course.” She clasps Grace’s hands in hers. “And rest assured I have my people on finding out who’s behind the explosion. They won’t get away with hurting one of mine.”
Hers?
This ho.
I don’t need to look around to see the other women’s reactions. I can practically feel the disgust and hate radiating off them. It’s damn near palpable and throbbing like a telltale heart.
“Thank you,” Brian murmurs, while Grace slides her hands free. If Abena notices Penn’s mother rubbing her palm against her pant leg, she doesn’t show it.
“Niece.” Abena turns to me, and the corner of her mouth quirks. “You must be worried. I know what Penn means to you.”
“I know you know. We’re just glad you weren’t there. Would’ve hated to see you … hurt,” I say, voice flat. Now it’s crystal clear to me why she decided not to come to Elysian. “Brian, Grace, I’m going to give you time with Penn. It’s a little too crowded in here. I’ll be right outside.”
I head toward the door and pause to kiss Grace’s cheek and hug Brian, then exit the room. Sienna, Doc, and Tera follow me, leaving Nef, Kenya, and Maura inside. Ain’t no way in hell we’re leaving Abena in that room with Penn unprotected.
We’re quiet, standing outside the door, the noise of a busy hospital creating its own soundtrack for our pain, our grief, our rage.
Only several feet away from us stands Mirror and a couple of other soldiers.
His bright blue eyes steadily meet mine, and I don’t look away.
If his spooky-looking ass is feeling froggy, I’ll be more than willing to jump.
About ten minutes later, the door opens, and Abena emerges with Brian. As if she telepathically sent him a message, Mirror approaches us, a golden apple in his hand. Abena takes it and extends it to Brian.
“Please take this as a token of my esteem and love for your family. If you need me, please don’t hesitate to reach out and let me know.”
Brian accepts the solid-gold token and nods. “Thank you. We appreciate this and you stopping by.”