Chapter Eighteen
Marco
WHEN HE’D gotten that phone call it wasn’t anger he felt. It was cold hard terror. A shooting. Outside Dante’s school. Then King had called. The road Dante’s school was on also had both the middle school and the high school buildings on it and King’s daughter attended the latter.
Once King had confirmed that Marco wasn’t involved, he shared that he had videos of the shooting, and he knew who one of the guilty parties was. The West B. Jackals. A low-life gang out of West Baltimore. They’d been kissing Destroyer ass up until most of them had gotten killed in a shootout at the clubhouse when Cade had gone in to find evidence to confirm their involvement in the murder and rape of a young woman.
Cade had found a whole lot more than that from what Neil had told him and that was why the State’s Attorney was in prison. Neil had also lost an operative that day. When Neil had shown up to ensure Marco was safe after that shit show, he’d seen the weariness in the man’s eyes clear as day. He’d wanted to hold him. Support him. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t let the man in again.
When King had gotten whatever he wanted from the Jackals, he’d handed them over to Marco who’d thoroughly enjoyed killing the little fuckers. Now, he’d found the other men. The ones who had entered his territory and shot at the Jackals on the street right by a school. A fucking school. He wanted them dead.
It had taken some digging and some bribing, but he finally had an address. All the men were holed up in a house just outside of town and he was less than a mile away. Should he have ordered his men to take care of it? Yes. Was he there alone with only one gun and two magazines? Also, yes.
He didn’t need anyone to spell out what he was doing. He was well aware. Going out in a blaze of glory seemed like a good way to go. He would get to see his parents. Alicia. He also knew what he’d be leaving behind, which was probably why he’d made sure one person knew where he was and what he planned on doing.
He wanted to kill these fuckers and if they got him too? So what?
The soft ruffle of clothing had him whirling around with his gun raised. He knew he was shaking but he also didn’t care when he came face to face with the one man he didn’t want to see.
“What the hell are you doing?” Neil hissed under his breath, hand wrapping around Marco’s gun to push it out of his face. “Have you lost your mind?”
Neil wouldn’t like his answer to that, so he kept his mouth shut.
“Marco,” Neil said on a sigh, hand running through his hair. “I can’t with you…”
He shoved his gun into his holster and gave Neil a dark glare.
“If I’m so much trouble why the fuck did you even come?” he asked, not bothering with keeping his voice down. He didn’t care if someone heard him.
Neil stared at him, those deep gray eyes making his heart beat faster. He clenched his teeth and started walking. A frustrated breath escaped him when Neil followed.
“What do you want?”
“To ruin your night.”
He came to a sharp halt, gaze snapping onto Neil and, how he wished the man was smirking at him. Instead, the serious expression on Neil’s face had his heart skipping a beat as dread poured into his stomach.
“What happened?”
“It’s about what will happen. If you go through with this.”
He held back a curse and had to unfurl his fingers before his nails drew blood from his palms.
“I don’t care.”
“Dante will care. So will Rome,” Neil said, his voice low and soft.
“And you?”
The flash of pain in Neil’s eyes soothed his cold heart. He wanted to cause the man pain because it was the only thing that made him feel alive.
“You know,” Neil said, glaring hard at Marco.
He shrugged. “Couldn’t care less.”
“And here I thought you hated liars. When did you become one?”
“Fuck you,” he hissed under his breath.
“Why are you really here, and don’t give me some bullshit about justice or revenge,” Neil said.
Marco felt his jaw clench and tried to hide it by looking away, but he knew Neil had caught it. He always saw right through him.
“I just want it to end,” he whispered. He squeezed his eyes shut for a second, then looked straight at Neil. “What do I have to live for? Everyone I love dies. If I’m dead, I can’t lose anyone else. I can’t…”
Neil tried to keep his face expressionless, but his eyes gave him away. That armor of his could never truly stay in place when he was with Marco, and the tortured look in those grays told him that the man still loved him, and that knowledge burned something fierce in his chest. He didn’t need to know that. He didn’t want to know. It all just hurt too much.
“I can’t give you a reason to live. As much as I think you want me to,” Neil said and stepped closer. “You’ll have to find that reason for yourself. You’ll have to find that thing that makes the pain, all of it, worth staying alive for.”
“What if I can’t find it?”
Neil blinked, eyes looking unfocused for a split second before his searing gaze met Marco’s. “Then there’ll be two funerals.”
Marco’s lips parted on a silent gasp as he realized what Neil meant. He was Neil’s reason for living. He was the thing Neil thought was worth staying alive for. Despite everything. Despite how much hurt and pain there was between them. He had wanted Neil to suffer, to feel the same pain he had. He just hadn’t realized that Neil had already been suffering. He’d already been in pain.
Neil turned and walked away while Marco’s heart floundered in his chest. Was it fair to keep blaming Neil for Alicia’s death when he was as much to blame? Was it fair to Rome and Dante to willingly cause them the pain and heartache he wanted so desperately to avoid himself? He knew the answer and a part of him was relieved. Neil was right. He needed to find a reason to live. One that didn’t involve putting that responsibility on someone else.
He released a sigh and pulled out his phone, hitting speed dial, and the second it was picked up, he said, “Gather the men. We have a score to settle.”