28. Chapter 28
All I can think of is my pops. What if he’d been in the front when the shooting happened? What if one of the bullets hit him? What if he died? Then what? I’ve never felt so alone in my life.
We’re well out of Reno before Reaper pulls off the road. I don’t know where we are, but it feels safe. I feel safe. Not better, but secure.
He helps me off the bike, then pulls me into his arms. “You okay, babe?” he asks.
The trembling stopped after a few miles and I’m regaining my equilibrium. “We can’t just leave Pops,” I say instead of answering his question.
“We aren’t.” He paces away a few feet as he makes a call.
When it’s picked up, he says, “Got a problem, Hangman. Someone shot up Paulie’s deli while we there. Need a couple of the brothers over here to pick up the old man.”
“Bakery,” I interject because… well… I don’t know why.
Reaper ignores me as he listens to the diatribe on the other end. Hangman’s voice is so loud, I can hear him clearly despite him not being on speaker. “Motherfucking sonofabitch. What the fuck is going on?” he snarls. “Where are you?”
“Where I’m at doesn’t matter. The problem we got is someone’s running coke through Reno. The ex-boyfriend’s a fucking idiot and got fucked up for it. And the assholes are targeting everyone he knows and by extension, their families. We won’t know how he got it, who gave it to him, or any other of the shit until I track down X’s friends.”
“Not fuckin’ happening.” Hangman shouts. “This is turning into a shitshow. You were at the scene of another crime, so get your ass back here and lay low.”
“I was with Paulie and X so no way the cops can point to me as the shooter.”
“Don’t fuckin’ matter. They’ll accuse you of settin’ it up. They’ll throw you back in the pen for Christ sakes. We can’t grease every fucking cop or judge around. You come in. Bring the mouthpiece and the old man. I’ll send Red and King out to shake down the friends.”
“No!” I shout as loud at Hangman, mostly so he can overhear. “My pop is in the line of fire and I’m not gonna sit around waiting to be rescued. Reaper and I’ll find my friends and you can find the assholes who are killing them.”
Reaper throws me a warning glare, then strides away from me, talking low and urgently to Hangman.
I follow, but he keeps walking.
When he hangs up, he turns. “Okay. Since the bakery’s shot up, Paulie can’t keep it open. The prospects are on their way to board up the windows and take your pops in. Our lawyer’s gonna go with them and talk to the cops, keep them off my back. You and me are gonna look for your friends.”
“Because Hangman said we could?” It comes out as a semi-sneer because I do what I want, not what I’m told and I want Reaper to be the same.
“Watch it, X. I’m not gonna take your shit. This is a club operation and we gotta work together. We’re gonna do what we’re gonna do because I said we are and Hangman respects that.”
“I’m sorry,” I say as look down at the ground, then peek up at him. “I know you’re looking after me and my pops. I’m guess I’m just off-balance.”
His hard eyes asses me. “Which one of your friends do we start with?”
A tear slides down my cheek. “Edgar probably. He and Miguel are thick as thieves.”
Reaper takes my hand. It’s warm and comforting. “It’s gonna be okay, X. I promise.”
“If something happens to Pops.” My voice shakes. “I’ll be alone. I have no one else. No family, no friends. Nothing.”
Reaper’s eyes soften and he kisses my knuckles. “You’re not alone. You have me.”
“Sure I do,” I snap as a new wave of grief rolls through me.
“It scares the shit out of me that you might get hurt.” Reaper replies. “It’s the only reason I’m not taking you back to the clubhouse. I want you with me. If we go down, it’s together. But we won’t. I’m a cold-hearted sonofabitch and whoever fucked with you and your pops is gonna wish they were dead by the time I get through with them.”
As speeches go, that was the best I’ve ever heard. “Thank you,” I tell him softly. “That means a lot.”
He smiles as his eyes sweep me. “You mean a lot.”
I can’t leave it there though. “But that doesn’t really change anything, does it?”
He stares at me, no reaction, no expression. “What’s that mean?” he says in cool voice.
As if he doesn’t know. “You come with this long list of terms and conditions. You kiss me, you back off, you make love to me, you back off. You’re gonna back off from this too.”
Reaper chews on his upper lip. “I’m a prick. I get it. But I’m not intentionally playing games, X. I’m trying to get out of my head, but I don’t know how.”
I shore myself up. “Sure.” It’s a conversation for later. Right now, we have other things to focus on.
He reads my mind. “Let’s go find Edgar.”
Edgar lives in Reno, not far from Miguel’s apartment building. He’s a dealer at the Atlantis Casino and Resort Spa. Good wages, good tips. Despite that, he’s as cheap as a fur coat at Target and his apartment building reflects that. It’s a moldering pile of garbage set among other moldering piles of garbage.
As walk up to the building, Reaper hesitates. “Which fucking floor, this time?”
“First,” I reply.
“Small mercies.”
Edgar’s door is unlocked and inside is a full-blown disaster. Like my apartment, furniture is upended, kitchen cupboards gape open, dishes are smashed. And Edgar, poor Edgar is slumped over, tied to a chair, barely conscious. His face is bloody and bruised, a rope, tight around his neck, is half choking him. An ear is partly ripped off.
“Edgar,” I cry as I run to him. I cup his cheeks.
“Urghh,” he yells as he tries to jerk away.
I don’t like this guy, maybe never did, but tears are coursing down my cheeks. I wouldn’t wish his injuries on my worst enemy. I think of Miguel. I guess he was my worst enemy. “What happened?”
“They just left,” he chokes. “They were gonna kill me.”
“Lucky we showed up to save your sorry ass,” Reaper says in a flat voice. He pulls a knife and cuts the ropes from Edgar’s neck and wrists revealing broken and bruised skin. Edgar slides out of the chair like a jelled fruit salad and collapses in a heap.
“Holy,” I say.
“Call an ambulance, X,” Reaper orders as he kneels next to Miguel’s cousin, slapping gently at his face.
“With what?” I hold my hands open in irritation.
“Fuck!” He pulls his phone out of the pocket inside his jacket, unlocks it with his thumb and tosses it to me.
I dial 911 with trembling fingers as Reaper turns his attention back to Edgar.
“Talk to me, asshole,” he says quietly.
“Oh god,” he moans as he opens his eyes. They get wider when he sees Reaper looming over him. “Don’t kill me! Please don’t kill me!”
“I’m not gonna kill you,” Reaper snarls like he’s gonna kill him. “What the fuck happened here?”
“The coke,” he replies then grimaces and grabs his stomach. “I don’t have it. I swear. We gave it to Mina.”
“You told them that?” I exclaim over Reaper’s shoulder. “And it’s Ximina to you. Only my friends are allowed to call me Mina.”
“911,” an operator answers. “What’s your emergency?” I almost hang up on her. Maybe Edgar deserves to die after all.
“Yeah. I had no choice. They were gonna kill me.”
“I’m gonna kill you,” I say forgetting who I have on the line.
Reaper grabs the phone out of my hand as the operator says in a panicked voice, “Stay on the phone. Help is on the way.”
“No one’s killing no one,” Reaper says to her. “Tell the cops not to come in shooting. The vic’s on the floor and we’ll be long gone by the time they get here.”
Reaper ends the call and turns back to Edgar, who is mumbling promises of some sort.
“Talk to me, fucker.”
Edgar doesn’t respond and Reaper drops to his knees and starts shaking him.
I roll my eyes, go to the kitchen, find an unbroken glass, fill it with water and upon return, throw it in Edgar’s face. It earns me a glare from Reaper because my aim is a little off and he gets splashed.
But it works. Edgar’s eyes shoot open.
“Who did this, kid?” Reaper says urgently.
Edgar coughs. “They want the coke back.”
“Wow, thanks for the news flash,” I snap. “I’d slap you for being such a douche but someone got to you first.”
“Who!” Reaper demands shaking him.
“Lavender,” he sobs.
“Lavender wants the coke back?” I say thinking that can’t be right.
“No. She was here. Tried to run, but they grabbed her.”
“I’m not talking about Lavender, cocksucker. Who wants the fuckin’ coke back?” Reaper talking, obviously.
Edgar looks past Reaper to me. “Miguel panicked when he realized he’d been found out. Put it in your stuff.”
Holy, I so want to finish the job the bad guys started. “Thanks, Mr. Obvious.”
“I know.” He swallows as his eyes close. “I’m sorry.”
I feel like kicking him, but Reaper reads my face and shakes his head. He turns back to Edgar. “You got five minutes. The cops get here before you tell me what the fuck’s going on, I’m gonna finish the job the assholes started.”
As if on cue, sirens blare in the distance, but Reaper doesn’t acknowledge them.
Edgar starts to cry. “Miguel was doing a delivery. Big box, got curious.”
“What’re you talking about?”
“Miguel owns a courier company,” I tell Reaper.
“Who the fuck couriers coke?” Reaper says in disbelief.
He’s got a point, but I have a bigger one. “Miguel was stealing stuff from his clients?”
Edgar doesn’t answer either of our questions. Instead he says, “He thought the customer wouldn’t miss a kilo.”
“Jesus.” He looks at me. “That’s the guy you were sleeping with?”
I glare. “Guess I have no taste when it comes to men.”
Reaper narrows his eyes. “Watch it, X.”
“You watch it, R.”
The sirens grow closer.
“Who did the cocksucker take the coke from?” Reaper asks, shaking Edgar so hard he has a coughing fit.
“Don’t know,” he replies after he gets the coughing under control. He spits bloody phlegm onto the floor. “Took it a week ago.” He stops and thinks. “Friday, I think.”
My heart is thumping in my chest. I don’t like Edgar, but I don’t want him dead. Or Lavender. “It’ll be in the logbook,” I say to Reaper.”
Edgar moans. “He used a code for the skimming.”
“Skimming? That’s what you fucking call stealing a kilo of coke?” Reaper snarls.
I’m more than mad. I feel used by Miguel’s duplicity. Making me an accessory to his criminal empire. I’ve never done a bad thing in my life.
God frowns.
Mom winks.
I shake my head. Not now, people.
“Only big orders. It was 50 kilos.”
“Fuckin’ idiots.” Reaper shakes his head as he stands. “Ambulance is on its way. Keep your mouth shut. The cops aren’t your friends.”
He takes my hand, “We gotta get out of here.”
I pull out his grip. “Where’s Tracy and Mariah?”
“I don’t know, Mina,” Edgar says. “I haven’t heard from them in a couple of days.”
“They were in on it?” I don’t know what to feel anymore.
“Yeah. Lavender didn’t know,” Edgar croaks.
“Probably dead,” Reaper mutters as he pulls at me.
“Don’t sugarcoat it,” I snap at him. “I’m a big girl.”
“Enough!” Reaper orders.
“You’re a bastard!” I shout at Edgar as Reaper drags me out the door. My chest hurts and I’m having trouble catching my breath. These people were my friends. Lavender and I would have eventually made up. Mariah too. Maybe. Reaper’s right. They’re probably all dead.
When we get outside, he leads me to his bike. “This is fucked up. How’re we gonna find out who the fuck Miguel was delivering to?”
Reaper’s words are coming out cold. He’s right. He’s ice, I’m fire. How’s that gonna work? “Go to his business?”
He nods. “Wait until tonight, find the roster he was keeping for his thefts. Fifty kilos of coke. That’s a hefty delivery. Should be easy to pinpoint.”
“Is it weird that someone would courier coke?”
“No one I know does,” Reaper replies. “That’s why it’s smart.”
I curl my lip. “Smart?”
“Maybe smart isn’t the right word. But it’s different.” He takes a breath. “We find out who sent it and where the drop off was. It’s a start.”
“What’re we gonna do until then?”
He gets on the bike and motions with his head. “Lay low.”