Chapter 19
Pip
I was sprawled on Henny’s bed, half-dressed and contemplating whether to order room service when my phone rang. Ricardo's name flashed on the screen.
"Howdy there," I answered, already grinning at whatever he was about to say.
"No time to fuck around, Pip. Bomb threat. Get Pharrell and get out. Now."
My grin died. I was on my feet before he finished the sentence, phone already tucked away as I grabbed my gun from the nightstand.
"Done."
I disconnected and bolted for the bathroom, where the shower was still running. Rel was in there doing his whole grooming routine, taking his sweet time because he'd complained about Ricardo’s ice-cold hands and feet this morning and wanted extra heat.
It was cute then.
Now it was deadly.
I yanked the bathroom door open. "Out. Bomb threat. We got to move."
To his credit, Rel didn't ask questions. Just shut off the water, grabbed a towel to wipe his face, and was moving before I'd finished talking.
"Do we know anything?” he started.
"Not a clue. Ricardo called. Said to move."
We hit the hallway at a run. Other guests were already streaming toward the stairs and elevators, some panicked, some annoyed, all of them in various states of dress. The elevator at the end of the hall dinged open and we pushed our way in with a family of four and an elderly couple.
My hand stayed on my concealed weapon as the elevator descended. Everyone was checking their phones, muttering about what was happening. I tuned them out and focused on threat assessment.
If this was a real bomb, we had very little room to find it based on typical timelines. If it was a distraction for something else, we had less. Either way, we needed to be downstairs and mobile.
The elevator opened to chaos. The bottom floor was packed with displaced guests, staff trying to maintain order, everyone funneling toward the exits. I spotted Ricardo immediately—he stood out, even in a crowd, with that deadly look I knew made Rel giddy.
We cut through the masses toward him. Rel was looking surprisingly composed for a man whose business had been threatened.
"Go to him," I said as we neared Ricardo. Then I was already turning away, my eyes tracking over the crowd.
Because bomb threats were rarely just threats. They were a cover for something more. A way to move people where you wanted them or to clear an area for a more devious plot.
I scanned faces as I moved through the crowd. Looking for anyone too calm, anyone moving against the flow, anyone with their hands hidden or eyes tracking targets instead of exits. The exits themselves were bottlenecks, creating perfect spots for secondary attacks.
My instincts screamed that something was off. The timing, the location, the fact that it happened without any kind of warning. This wasn't random.
Someone was making a move.
Before I could figure out who, I needed to find the damn bomb.
Fucking hell.
What a disaster.
Disarming a bomb was one of my least favorite activities. Even though it was a quick process, I still didn’t want it on my plate. There was no blood, and it always left me feeling jittery afterwards. Probably the whole ticking clock aspect.
It was also a skill I tried not to let people know I had. They’d no doubt call me when there was a potential threat and I didn’t need the extra work.
What I needed was to get back to Pharrell and Ricardo to see what else needed to be handled. But there were too many fucking people. Goddamn animals.
GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY WAY.
I wanted to roar the words out loud. Wanted to let the beast free so they’d clear a path.
Except Rel had been clear about my conditions for staying. He said I had to put on my normal person suit when at the legit businesses. I could be as psycho as I wanted elsewhere. Just not here.
“Ricardo!” I heard Rel’s voice rising over the crowd. When I turned to look at him, he was in a blind panic, shoving people out of the way as he tried to fight against the flow.
I whistled sharply to get his attention. He whipped his head my way, then motioned to the area between us. I didn’t need to be close to understand him.
Something had happened to Ricardo. He’d been right here and then gone.
My first instinct would be to spread out to look. Maybe he got pushed around in the shuffle.
But there was something else telling me I should stay where I was. Something telling me to think about why Ricardo wouldn’t answer Rel’s call. If any two people were meant to be together, it was those two. That meant Ricardo would come every time his partner called, not the opposite.
I dropped into a crouch and watched how the bodies around me moved. There was a method to the madness, which I spotted right away. There was also some discord.
Enough to tell me something—or someone—was causing a break.
I shifted through the crowd, body still bent over. It was hard to keep my balance, but I managed. I’d been in worse conditions.
When I got closer to the disturbance, my blood turned to ice at what I saw.
Ricardo’s crumpled form jolted each time someone ran into him, though otherwise, it remained still.
Rushing forward, I leaned over him protectively as I assessed his body for wounds. It was easy to see the knife still sticking out of him and the blood coating his clothing and the floor beneath him.
Even with what I saw, he shouldn’t have been unconscious like this. He was made of tougher stuff. I knew because I’d been watching him for months now, making sure he was the right fit as Rel’s partner.
Since he’d proved himself to be a great fit, this made no fucking sense.
Also, how the fuck did he get stabbed?
Then it hit me.
Dammit.
This was a setup.
Someone called in the threat to cause panic, then went after the person Pharrell had come to care for most. It was a direct attack against a man I considered family.
This wouldn’t stand.
More importantly, we had to get Ricardo the help he needed before this got worse. I felt for his pulse, then sighed when I found it steady, though a bit slow.
I rose to my full height, then whistled sharply in three quick successions. It was enough to distract the people around me and also to get Pharrell’s attention. I waved him over, then stuck my arms out wide to create a barrier as much as I could.
“Back the fuck up,” I shouted when others got to close.
The second Rel was within reach, I yanked his suit to get him through the bodies. At Ricardo’s broken form, he collapsed.
Knowing he wasn’t fit for it, I called for an ambulance. There was probably one outside, but I needed them to get in here right fucking now with a stretcher and some answers.
“911, what is your emergency?”
“Someone has been stabbed. I’m at The Casino Famiglia. First floor. By the slots on the far back left.”
The woman on the other end hummed as she clicked her keys. “Sir, I show there are paramedics already there. I’ll tell them your location. Hold tight. Would you like to stay on the line until they arrive?”
“No,” I said as I hung up. There were other important people to call.
Henny answered on the first ring. “You have them?”
I didn’t need him to tell me who he was referencing. We both understood Pharrell and Ricardo were a package deal these days. You couldn’t protect one without the other.
“They’re secure. Well, I have eyes on both.” I winced.
“What do you mean? What’s wrong? Tell me!”
I’d never heard him so flustered. While part of me hated it, I also enjoyed knowing he was more than the robot he tried to be. Pushing the knowledge away, I explained to him how I found Ricardo stabbed and on the floor. I also mentioned that Pharrell was worrying over him.
“Paramedics should be here soon.”
“And what about the bomb?! They need to get out.”
I laughed, then said, “The bomb has been handled. I took care of it first. If I hadn’t, then maybe he wouldn’t have been stabbed. But then again, it would be blowing up soon, so there’s that.”
Henny was surprisingly quiet for a minute before mumbling, “He deactivated a fucking bomb. Jesus Christ!”
“Pip.” Pharrell’s voice drew me from the amusement Henny brought out.
I looked down at his crouched form. He was covered in blood, likely from trying to see if there were any more wounds on his partner.
“Yes, Boss,” I answered. Henri was silent, likely because he was also listening.
“We’re going to get him to the hospital, then we’re going to go hunting.”
I smiled wide at that.
“My kind of hunting?”
Pharrell’s expression turned the darkest I’d seen yet. I reveled in the horror it would bring.
“Yes, Pip. Your kind of hunting. I’m going to tear this fucking city to shreds until I find who did this.”
“Sign me up. I love a good hunt.”
Henny groaned before ending the call. Poor thing. One day, he’ll learn how to have a good time with some maiming and torture like the rest of us.