Chapter 31
CHAPTER 31
CREED
I ’m tense, the kind of tension that settles in your bones and you can’t shake loose. The compound is quiet. I can hear my own breaths, the slight crack of my knuckles as I flex my hands. My mind is a battlefield, but one thing remains clear: Mackenzie may be right. This world we live in—it’s not safe for Gabriella. But she doesn’t understand that there isn’t a force on this earth that could keep me from protecting that little girl. I know what I have to do. I’ll get her and her parents home safely, and when things settle, I’ll figure out a way to be in her life.
The door to my office swings open with a creak. Linc is already inside, waiting, his broad frame tense as he leans against my desk, arms crossed. His expression is unreadable, but for the flicker of something—concern, maybe, or disappointment—in his sharp eyes.
“Tell me you’re not serious about this!” He barks out. “Tell me you haven’t lost your damn mind!”
I step further into the office, the floorboards groaning beneath my boots. “We return the containers to St. Jude’s tonight.” When I gave the order, Linc wanted to talk, but my mind was made up. This conversation was already over.
Linc lets out a slow, measured breath, running a hand over his shaved head. He laughs, but there’s no humor in it. “Creed, listen to me. Diego is not someone to mess with. You know that better than anyone. We return that shipment, and we might as well put targets on our backs.”
I glance at the whiskey bottle on the desk, the amber liquid catching the dim light. A drink would steady me, dull the edges of the thoughts scraping against my skull, but I need my head clear.
“I don’t care," I say, my voice level, unwavering. "This needs to be done. I’ve already asked Manuel to reverse the wire transfer.”
Linc pushes off the desk, pacing. “Jesus Christ, man. You think Diego’s just gonna let this slide? You think he won’t come after us for this?” His boots thud against the floor in an agitated rhythm. “You’re gambling with all our lives here.”
I roll my shoulders, the tension coiling tighter. “I don’t gamble, Linc. I make moves. And this move is necessary.”
He stops, leveling me with a glare. “Necessary? For who? For your girl?” His voice lowers, rough as sandpaper. “For the kid?”
The muscle in my jaw ticks.
“Watch your mouth, Linc.” I spit.
Linc exhales sharply, shaking his head. “And what if Diego decides you don’t get a choice?”
I step closer, closing the space between us. “Then he learns what happens when he stands in my way.”
For a moment, there’s nothing but silence. A challenge hanging thick in the air. Then, Linc scoffs, rubbing the back of his neck. “Shit, Creed. You really are a stubborn bastard.”
A ghost of a smirk tugs at the corner of my mouth. “You just figuring that out now?”
He shakes his head but doesn’t push back. He knows when I’ve made up my mind, there’s no talking me out of it. Still, his brows tug together in concern.
“Make the necessary arrangements. I gotta go.” I grab my jacket from the chair. The weight of it is familiar, grounding. Tomorrow, I’ll talk to Gabriella’s parents. I’ll figure out how to still be in my daughter's life without putting her in danger.
.
I glance back at Linc, who lingers in the doorway, arms still crossed. “I just hope you don’t regret this.”
* * *
Michael has already hauled their bags into the SUV and is nervously fidgeting with his wristwatch as we wait for Mia and Gabriella to do one last sweep of my house in case they’ve forgotten anything.
His foot taps against the pavement, the soft shuffle filling the silence between us. His anxiety is palpable, radiating off him in waves, and it irritates me more than it should. I don’t need his nervous energy feeding into my own. I roll my shoulders, trying to ease the tightness coiled in my muscles.
“I – er – wanted to thank you. It’ll be good for Gaby to be back in school, and in her surroundings again,” he says, his voice careful, measured, like he thinks I might snap at any moment.
I glare at him, taking a slow drag of the unlit cigarette dangling from my lips. I don’t even know why I have it there. Maybe it's the need for something familiar, something that steadies me. But I don’t want another scolding from Gabriella, so I leave it unlit, tasting only the stale bitterness of tobacco.
I grunt in response.
Michael shifts on his feet. “You’re – er – welcome to see her, any time you want.”
I turn my head slightly, leveling him with a look. “Mike, if I want to see my kid, I don’t need your permission. You get that?”
His Adam's apple bobs as he swallows hard. He nods, pushing his glasses up his nose. His hands twitch at his sides, a tell of nerves he can't quite suppress.
“But thank you,” I say, my voice rougher than I intended.
He exhales, some of the tension easing from his posture.
The sound of the front door opening makes me glance up. Gabriella and Mia step out of the house. Gabriella has her sketchpad tucked under her arm. Her face is pinched with an expression I know too well—uncertainty, maybe even sadness. It guts me.
Gabriella meets my eyes, and for a second, everything else falls away. The wind picks up, rustling the trees lining the driveway, carrying with it the scent of damp earth and pine. She hesitates, gripping her book tighter, before making a beeline straight for me.
My arms open instinctively, and she crashes into my chest, small arms wrapping around my waist with surprising strength. I inhale deeply, her familiar scent of strawberry shampoo makes my throat tight.
“I’ll miss you, Creed,” she mumbles into my stomach, her voice small.
I squeeze her tighter. “I know, baby girl. But you’ll be home, with your mom and dad. And I’ll come see you real soon, yeah?”
She nods against me, but she doesn’t let go. I shut my eyes for a moment, grounding myself in the feel of her, the warmth of her little body pressed against mine. I could stay like this forever if the world would let me.
Mia clears her throat softly, a hesitant reminder that it’s time. Gabriella pulls back slightly, and I see the sheen of unshed tears in her big, gray eyes.
“You promise?” she whispers.
I grip her chin gently, making sure she sees the truth in my gaze. “I swear it.”
A small nod, and then she reluctantly lets go, stepping back toward Mia. I straighten, shoving my hands into my pockets to keep from reaching for her again.
Michael moves toward them, brushing his hand over Gabriella's head as Mia ushers her toward the car. The SUV door opens, and Gaby hesitates, looking over her shoulder at me one last time before climbing in.
Mia gives me a look—part gratitude, part something else I can’t quite decipher. Then she follows, the door clicking shut behind her. Michael lingers for a beat, his hand gripping the frame of the car like he wants to say something, but he thinks better of it. With a final nod, he slides into the passenger seat. My driver starts the car.
I stand there, watching as they pull out of the driveway, the tail lights glowing red against the early evening dusk. My gut twists as the car disappears down the road.
Gone.
The absence hits harder than I expected, a sharp hollow ache settling in my chest. I exhale slowly, dragging a hand down my face.
Linc’s voice cuts through the quiet. “You okay?”
I glance at him. He’s leaning against the porch railing, arms crossed, watching me with a look that says he already knows the answer.
“No,” I admit, lighting the damn cigarette finally. The first drag burns my throat, but I welcome the sting.
Linc pushes off the railing, stepping closer. “You sure about tonight? We can wait.”
I shake my head. “No. The containers go back to St. Jude’s tonight.”
He exhales, rubbing a hand over his jaw. “Creed, man, Diego has been waiting for a reason to retaliate. Is this the right move?”
I take another drag, letting the smoke curl around me. “I don’t give a fuck about Diego. This needs to be done.”
Linc curses under his breath but doesn’t argue further. He knows better.
Still, Gabriella will be safer away from my compound.