Chapter 23 Specter
Specter
“It’s too fucking quiet,” Carnage says, nudging me with his arm from our position on the rooftop. “It’s Saturday night.”
“I know. Something’s up. You think they got tipped off somehow?”
My phone buzzes before Carnage can answer me. I look down at the screen to see our group chat lighting up.
Phantom: Look alive, boys. Black SUV en route.
“Fuck yeah.” Carnage tucks his phone back into his pocket. “Let’s make some losers bleed.”
It’s always a wild ride working with Carnage.
I don’t get to often, but when I do, it’s never dull.
He didn’t get his nickname by being subtle and low-key.
In fact, he got it after taking out three guys at the same time.
They were so unrecognizable when he was done with them that they could only be identified through dental records.
Headlights light up the dark alleyway behind the drug house, and seconds later, an SUV stops by the back door. The doors open and five men exit. From here, it’s hard to tell much about them, but I don’t really care anyway. They’ve got six trained killers breathing down their necks.
It was my call to get to this job quickly so I could focus on dealing with Cashmere’s problem.
Colson.
He said to call him Colson.
The last thing I wanted was to be in the midst of something with him and then have my brothers need my help. Better to clear the obstacles first.
My phone buzzes again and I pull it from my pocket to read the text.
Ghost: Eyes on them from the east. They don’t appear armed.
Whisper: Front of the house is dark too. No party inside. This might work well.
Me: We’re coming down.
I bump Carnage’s arm. “Let’s roll.”
We head to the fire escape, making our way down as the men disappear inside the house. Carnage grabs my arm, pulling me back.
“Driver still inside the car,” he whispers, seconds before there’s an explosion that throws us back several feet.
The car speeds off, leaving tire marks in its wake, and the house before us is engulfed in flames.
“What the fuck?” I scoot back, looking to my left to check on Carnage.
He sits up, a little blood on his forehead from where he hit the ground. “Jesus Christ.”
My phone is going nuts, but I don’t check it. We have to get out of here. We get to our feet and take off running back to the car we parked a few blocks away. Once we’re safely inside, I grab my phone and swipe the screen open to our group chat.
Wraith: Fucking hell. Check in, everyone.
There’s a string of messages from the guys, but Carnage and I were closest so they’re waiting for us.
Me: We’re good.
Whisper: Let’s get the fuck out of here. That was a hit if I’ve ever seen one. There’s more at play here than we knew.
Carnage starts the car and pulls into traffic just as a fire truck and a police car whir past us. Residents from surrounding homes flood the sidewalks to see what’s going on.
“No one is walking away from that,” Carnage says, glancing in the rearview.
“No way.”
Me: Anyone tell Shadow yet?
Ghost: I vote you tell him.
Me: Gee thanks. On it.
Instead of texting, I dial the boss.
“Yeah,” he says. “What’s going on? Didn’t expect to hear from anyone so soon.”
“The house blew up. Five guys went in and the fucking house blew up. The driver tore off. No idea if he knew it was happening or just got lucky.”
“Fuck. Seriously? Sounds like a hit.”
“Absolutely. I’m sure Whisper or Wraith got intel on the car plates, but other than that, I don’t know what we have.”
“There better not have been any kids in there,” Shadow growls.
“It didn’t look like it. It was quiet before the men got there. No partying or anything.”
“Hmm. On a Saturday night? Sounds fishy.”
“We thought so too. We’re on our way back.”
Shadow blows out an audible breath. “What’s got me fucked up is that you guys could’ve been caught up in that too. Am I being played?”
“Fuck. I didn’t consider that. Did your contact know we’d be there?”
“No, but they know how we work. I don’t fucking know. I gotta make some calls.”
“Give ’em hell, boss.”
“I will. No worries here at least. Cashmere is fine. He’s playing cards with Bellamy.”
That image lights me up. So domestic. He asked for the night off at my insistence. I knew we were doing this stakeout so I wouldn’t have eyes on him. Jimmy was agreeable enough because of the extra shift he’s doing next week for the private group.
“Thanks, man. See you soon.”
I report to the group chat that Shadow knows the situation.
Ghost: Is he pissed?
Me: What do you think?
We continue the drive, but when we get to the freeway ramp, there’s a small pileup at the end, blocking our path.
Carnage slams his hand on the steering wheel. “Dammit.”
“Go around them.”
He swerves to ride the shoulder, but a man jumps out in front, waving his arms in distress.
“Fuck that,” Carnage mumbles, trying to dodge the guy, but we’re effectively blocked in unless we run the guy over.
I roll my window down. “Get out of the fucking way, man.”
The guy plasters himself over the hood of Carnage’s car, rambling in a foreign language.
“What’s he speaking?”
Carnage shakes his head. “Don’t know. Russian maybe?”
I huff and open my door. “Guess I’ll see what the fuck.”
As soon as I get one foot on the ground, I feel Carnage reaching for me, but it’s too late. Shots ring out and searing pain racks my body, dropping me to my knees.
I hear my name called, but it sounds distant, and it’s followed by more shots and tires squealing. I grip the door handle to hold myself up, snow melting into my pants as I slump forward.
“No! Fuck, no!”
Carnage.
Oh fuck. I can’t die. I can’t leave Colson.
Carnage is by my side seconds later, and I hear the distant sound of more cars and voices arriving.
“Someone call Shadow.” Carnage again. “We need the doctor as soon as we get there.”
“Eyes open, Specter. Stay with us.” Wraith. My head is lifted and cradled in someone’s lap. I can’t even tell where I was shot—the pain feels like it’s everywhere.
“Colson,” I whisper. Wrapping my hand around Wraith’s coat lapel, I force my eyes open. “Don’t let me die.”
“I won’t let you die, but you gotta fight too.”
“Get him in the fucking car.” That was Whisper.
I drift in and out as we race back to the house, panicked voices all around me. All I can do is hold on to the image of Colson in my mind. I have to live for him.
For us.