Chapter 23
Chapter Twenty-Three
DREW
“Where?”
“FM fifty-five. My men are waiting for you.”
Casting a side-eye at Ayda, I knew I was caught between a rock and a hard place.
There was no way we could head back to The Hut, not now everything in Babylon was finally coming to a head.
If I dropped Ayda off at the side of the road and told her to make her own way back, anyone could grab her.
If The Navs had gotten hold of Eric, they’d be able to throw Ayda in the back of a van without worry.
I couldn’t even drop her at a motel. For all I knew, Trigger had Walsh’s BMW rigged up with a camera the same way Owen Sinclair had set up our yard, bikes, and home.
She had to stay with me, no matter what. At least this way I had a chance of keeping her safe rather than setting her free to fend for herself.
I smacked a hard palm against the steering wheel, my growl of anger shameless.
Trigger laughed down the line. “You always make this too easy.”
“I will fuck you up, Trigger. I will fucking end you.”
‘I can’t wait. See you soon, Tucker. Don’t kill my cargo before you get here.
I’d hate to have to do the same to your old man.
” The sound of something hitting something else rang out, like a swift kick to a body, and it was soon followed by a deep, painful groan, one I instantly recognized as Eric’s.
That sound made my stomach twist with nausea.
Nobody else.
I couldn’t lose anybody else.
Snatching the phone from Ayda, I ended the call and threw the cell in the footwell by her feet, crying out in rage, “Motherfucker!”
“You think this car is rigged?” she asked quietly, glancing back at Walsh. “I don’t want to make it worse by saying something more if they can hear us.”
I caught Walsh’s eye in the rearview, watching his slow, smug smirk creep into place, and his brows rise.
“Let’s find out, shall we?” I spun the car to the side of the road, coming to a sharp stop. There was no time to waste as I turned in my seat, leaned into the back and grabbed Walsh by the throat, squeezing it tight with one hand while my other came up to press a thumb on his gunshot wound.
His cry was high-pitched and wild, his face scrunching tight as the pain took over.
“Seeing stars yet, fucker?” I pushed out through gritted teeth, my eyes practically bleeding with venom.
“Argh!” he hissed, his pain a noise I wanted to drown in. “Stop, Tucker. Fuck.”
Walsh tried to push me off him, but my fingers were pulsing and my rage wanted to snap his neck in one move. I wanted his blood on my hands and to feel nothing but pride that I was the one who caused him so much agony.
“What the fuck has Trigger got on you?”
“I…” Walsh groaned again. “I can’t… talk….”
Releasing my hold on his neck, I let him drag a sharp breath in, my hand hovering there. “You have twenty seconds.”
He coughed hard, his head rolling back. I may have let him breathe, but the pain he’d be feeling in that gunshot wound alone should have been enough to knock him out as I pressed on it.
“He’ll want me dead,” Walsh croaked. “But he’ll want me dead by his own hands, not yours.”
“Why?”
“Because he hates you. He hates you more than he wants me dead.”
My nostrils flared like a bull ready to charge—my body surging with adrenaline as I pressed hard on Walsh’s throat again. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t kill you right now just to piss him off.”
“Do it.” Walsh hit back, his eyes widening. “If you kill me, Trigger will kill Eric, and then my death will be worth it. It’ll all have been worth it.”
My frown was hard as I studied his face, struggling to connect the dots as to why Mayor Walsh would want my father dead… and want it so much that he was willing to put his own life to an end to see it through.
“What don’t I know?” I pressed. “Tell me. Give me something. Give me anything that gives me a reason to save you as well as Eric.”
Walsh scowled that time, his eyes crossing over as he no doubt saw stars in front of him before he managed to refocus on my face. “Save me? Why would you want to save me?”
“I don’t. I want you buried under my front porch so I can stand on your fucking skull every damn morning and every damn night.
But I know a kid who says he hates you and probably, somewhere deep down in that confused, young brain of his, actually loves you.
I know what it’s like to think you hate the man who brought you into this world.
I know the way it twists your gut up every day you’re breathing, and even though I despise you, I kinda like him, so consider yourself fucking blessed.
” I pressed my thumb down hard on his wound. “In agony, but blessed.”
Walsh looked up at the corners of the car, his eyes drifting all around before he opened his mouth to speak. “You need to be careful.”
“And you need to speak. We’re running out of—”
The phone by Ayda’s feet rang again, and I closed my eyes slowly, knowing what was coming and who that was.
Ayda looked at me for only a second before she reached down and picked it up, flashing the screen my way, where Eric’s name was in lights, demanding our attention. With a slide of her thumb, a dull thud and quiet groan filled the small interior of the car, drowning out Walsh’s pained breaths.
“Put my toy down, Tucker, or I’ll put yours down for good.”
I growled and released Walsh slowly, making sure to push him back as hard as I could before I spun back around and slid into place behind the steering wheel.
I took the phone from Ayda as carefully as I could, bringing the speaker close to my mouth.
“Let me take my girl somewhere safe first,” I demanded, my voice no longer sounding like my own as it struggled to hold back a million threats. “I’ll bring Walsh, but you—”
Trigger’s laughter was manic, and I had a vision of his throwing his head back as his amusement poured out of him. I sighed heavily, the weight of my worries falling from it as I turned and locked eyes on Ayda, offering her more silent apologies.
“This isn’t a negotiation, Tucker.”
“She doesn’t need to be a part of this.”
“I have a device placed in Walsh’s car that can blow you three up with a push of a button. She’s a part of this because I say she is. Now start the engine. Put that delicate little foot of yours on the gas. Push it down, and get… the fuck… here. Now.”
Ayda’s eyes slid closed, and her hands twitched in her lap, but she only needed a moment before the stubborn tilt of her chin set in and her shoulders squared. She wasn’t happy, but she was okay. She turned and gave a resigned nod of agreement.
There was nothing more I could do other than hang up the phone and slide it back into her hand.
“I promise you, I’ll die before I let anyone lay a single finger on you, Ayda.”
“Don’t.” Ayda let her eyes flick to the mirror where I assumed she could see Walsh with his hand pressed against his shoulder, his face creased in pain.
They dropped to her lap and unlocked the phone, her delicate fingers navigating through screens quickly.
She barely looked down, her chin still high with that stubborn tilt.
“We’re not doing the goodbyes this time.
We’re not giving up before we’ve gone in there. You understand me?”
Ayda angled the screen my way. There was a small marker in the middle of the highway just about where we were with a speech bubble that said SOS above it. With a swipe of her finger, the screen was on a menu and in her lap again.
“Now, let's go deal with this sadistic fucker. And then, let’s go home.”