Chapter 19
NINETEEN
Hush
With Bullet on our side, finding our first lead for Grizzly’s boss is easier than we’d thought.
His skills and resources on connecting the dots were insanely impressive.
Not to mention his classified connections, but we all held secrets.
No one asked questions, nor did we second guess him.
We just rolled with it, letting him be our smarts behind the camera.
After all, he is our VP and for good reasons.
He’s smart and everything a VP needs to be. We all have a role in the MC after all.
Sergio Garcia worked with high end drug lords in the city.
None of our intel led us to believe he was the guy Grizzly was working for, but sources did say they saw Sergio meet up with Grizzly the day he was shot and killed.
So here we are. To find out if this punk can tell us anything useful or not.
We have photos, and leaked info on where Sergio will be tonight.
Now all we had to do was scope out the place, find him, and question him.
Yes, Chain wants the money we were screwed out of, but it was also about finding the guy in control, knowing Grizzly wasn’t alone on stealing money and raping women. And that’s something I hold personally.
The music is obnoxiously loud, vibrating off the walls as we make our way inside.
We scan the shady ass strip club, my boots sticking floor, and the place smells like the inside of a cigarette carton.
Women shoot friendly glances with their bare breasts on full display, as we saunter past. But I pay no mind considering I don’t care enough.
However, there is someone who does, and as Bullet taps me on the shoulder signaling in their direction, my guess is he notices him too.
Bingo.
Hello, Sergio.
The bastard’s high as a kite, wiping his nose with the sleeve of his ugly shirt as he sits below the stage.
He’s shouting profanity at one of the dancers who just got done shaking her ass in his direction.
The chair flys back as he jumps from it, reaching to grab her.
But I snatch the top of his stained shirt at the neck, jolting him back down into the seat Bullet righted.
“Woah.” His head whips in our direction, finally taking his grimy focus off the dancer. “The fuck?”
“We need to chat.” Bullet crosses his arms over his chest, glaring down at Sergio.
“I’m a little busy at the moment.” Sergio sniffs, giving us a careless wave. “Beat it.”
With a grim expression, and my patience wearing thin, I drag him off the chair. He yells, his boots scraping the nasty floor as I haul him toward the back exit.
Sergio’s voice is drowned out by the deafening music with me barely breaking a sweat as I haul him across the club.
People glance at us with nervous looks but quickly turn a blind eye after noticing our MC cuts.
Most people are smart enough to leave us alone, not knowing what level of crazy we carry.
But with the obvious illegal drugs going on, no one would dare get the police involved.
The door bangs against the wall after I slam it with my boot then throw Sergio out and onto the cold snow that covers the cement.
“What the fuck!” He scurries along the snow, barely able to stand considering the cocaine he has in his system. He’s twitchy with bloodshot eyes.
“Grizzly. Familiar with the name?” Bullet asks, wasting no time in getting straight to the point.
“Who? I don’t fucking know. I know a lot of people, man.” He takes in our cuts, and I catch the small fear flashing across his face.
Bullet smirks. “Maybe this will refresh your memory.” My Vice nods to me, and I begin stalking toward Sergio, his eyes widening with each step I take.
“Hey! Hey wait.” His hands fly up in surrender. “Uh, yeah, I think I might remember now.”
“How convenient,” Bullet mutters.
“Yeah, he was uh… this dude I sold to a lot.”
“Anyone ever with him at the drops?”
“Nah, man. He came alone. Except sometimes he had his woman with him.” A slimy grin creeps up on his face. “She was hot as fuck and he let me borrow her as payment from time to time, if you know what I mean.” Sergio snickers, gradually getting into an annoying laughing fit.
Bullet lets out a heavy sigh in frustration. “Did Grizzly ever mention a name? Who he worked for?”
Sergio’s expression turns studious like he’s really trying to think.
“Don’t hurt yourself, pal,” Bullet jests.
“I’m pretty sure whoever he works for is involved in some shit. But like I said, he always came alone.”
“What kind of shit?” Bullet grinds his teeth.
“I don’t know, dude. Like trafficking, I guess. Women maybe. It’s a good business. Earns a lot of fucking dough.”
Bullet and I exchange glances, then I uncross my arms from my chest getting ready to move on him for that sleazy comment. But as my boot drags an inch, the photo I know so well—too well, slips from my pocket and slowly floats across the air. It lands directly at the base of Sergio’s worn-out shoes.
My beautiful Gracie smiles up at the world, up at me, and my breathing increases with my heart stammering inside my chest ready to pop out at any given moment. My Gracie, who I keep locked inside my heart so tightly, is out in the world for everyone to see.
Sergio bends down, picking up her photo, the one I took of her on our porch swing, and holds her in his slimy fucking hands. My blood boils, my vision reddening with each second his sneer grows bigger. It’s the same one I thought Danika had seen.
I had showered that morning, forgetting to put the picture back into my pocket. Every day she’s with me, tucked safely against my heart and how it managed to slip out, I’ll never know.
Bullet says something to me, probably words of encouragement, trying to calm me down but I don’t hear them because my predatory stare is locked on the asshole who dared touched Gracie.
“Damn. She yours? She is one fine piece of ass. Mind if I have a go with her when you’re done?”
Do it. He touched her. End him. He deserves to rot in the hell. Fucking do it.
Kill him.
Sergio goes still with terror in his eyes.
Do. It.
“Hush!”
That’s it. The thin thread holding my sanity together is snipped like a taut piece of string. The wood from my bat, the very same wood I felt beneath the palm of my hand plenty of times, is ripped out from the strap on my jeans, and I’m on him like a moth to a flame.
With one menacing blow, my bat connects with Sergio’s face. The crack of bones breaking loud enough that if the music wasn’t playing, anyone inside could hear. But everything’s silenced and the voice inside my head screams with guilt-free rage.
Blow after blow, the foul act feeds my mind, cursing me to keep going. Blood splatters across my face, letting me taste the metallic iron on my tongue as the howl of Sergio’s agonizing screams echo through the night.
That’s it. Kill him.
A roaring thunderous yell slivers its way from my throat until I can’t anymore. Until Bullet forcefully tries ripping me off Sergio, to stop my bat I’m currently imploding into his skull. But he’s useless when I’m like this.
Nothing can stop me.
As soon as I’m about to bring down my bat onto Sergio’s already battered, bloody mess of a face once more, a sudden breeze kisses my cheek, surrounding my entire being. The voice haunting my thoughts slowly fades, growing weaker. My vision returns, and Bullet’s voice behind me becomes audible.
My chest rises and falls searching for air back into my lungs, and when everything returns, I’m able to realize the extent of what I’ve just done. Sergio lies in a pool of his own blood. The once white snow stained with crimson and brain matter near his body.
I had done that. My own hands. The same hands that once touched Gracie.
I drop my bat covered with Sergio’s blood and DNA. My staggering breaths escaping quickly—too quickly—that I can feel the blood pooling to my feet.
“Hush, brother.”
But I’m already backing away, away from Bullet, and away from Sergio’s lifeless brutalized body.
I only pause when my boot collides with Gracie’s photo, and I pick it up.
The still of my body turns to a painful numbness when I stare into her eyes, the same ones I miss so much, yearning to be able to see them in person again.
Her picture stained with blood from my fingers.
Screams echo off the walls as I race through the same area I pulled Sergio from. I can only guess what I look like. I’d scream too.
I burst through the front door with a stumble not having a clue where to go. I just run, letting the freezing wind carry me forward.
Numb. That was all I was. The only word I could use to describe how I felt in this given moment. No one else existed. Only Gracie and me.
Her hand rested in mine, and I gave a gentle squeeze as the specialist stared back at us. Her face filled with a painful sorrow.
Gracie had gone still, pale faced next to me as her expression held a blankness or numbness. The same numbness I felt. But her pain was worse.
With my voice broken I asked, “What does that mean exactly? For…” I couldn’t say it— couldn’t get the words out.
The oncologist, Dr. Silvia, let out a heavy sympathetic sigh. “Stage four ovarian cancer is extremely aggressive. According to your scans, Gracie, it has unfortunately spread to many of your lymph nodes and liver.”
“What happens first?” Gracie’s voice quivered, and it shattered my heart for the second time.
“Most likely surgery then chemotherapy.”
Gracie touched the long strands of her hair that hung off her shoulder. I gave her hand another gentle squeeze letting her know I’m here. I’m always here even though all I wanted to do was break down, but I couldn’t, I had to be strong for her.
“I’ll lose my hair.” Her voice shook, and it nearly sent me over the edge.
“Yes.” Dr. Silvia gave her a quick smile.
Gracie’s lashes lined the tops of her cheeks as she stared at the invisible lint on her leggings. “And…” Her throat bobbed with a harsh swallow. “How long do I have? I’m a nurse. I know what stage four means.”
“With treatment, you’re looking at a couple of years.”
My eyes stung. My insides shattered. But I had to hold it together. For her. “She could beat this right? There is a chance?”
Gracie’s hand fell from mine.
“There is a small chance of survival. However, with her case and the aggression, it’s an extremely small chance.” Dr. Silvia glanced over at Gracie, but there was zero hope in her eyes.
No. No.
I couldn’t lose her. I wouldn’t.
It’d be too much. I won’t survive without her.
The walk out was excruciating. It was earth shattering, and I didn’t even want to think how Gracie was feeling. There’d be no world without her in it, and I simply couldn’t survive her not being here.
I only let go of Gracie’s hand to turn on the truck; the vibration rumbled under our seats. “I—”
“Five.”
“What?” I turned to look at Gracie and my stomach dropped. Her tears had already dampened her shirt.
“You had asked me how many kids I wanted before, and my answer is five. I want five kids.”
My heart felt like it was being ripped from my chest. “That’s a lot of kids.” But I would give them to her, give her anything she asked for.
I balled my hands into fists to stop myself from shedding my own tears.
“Yeah, well. I don’t think that’s happening now.” Her shoulders shook, finally letting it all out.
“Fuck. Gracie.” I pulled her to my side, holding her as she sobbed into the crook of my neck.
And I silently cried with her, not being able to hold back any longer.
Our cries mixed as we wept together. Mourning a life we’d never get to have.
But no. She was going to live. She was going to beat this. She had to.
I pulled away just enough to cup her cheek. “You’re going to beat this, you hear me? You are going to beat this and we’re going to get married and have those five children.” I swiped the tears off her cheeks using the pads of my thumbs. “You’re not going to die on me, Gracie. You’re not.”
“I won’t be able to have children after surgery, Liem.”
“Then we’ll adopt.”
A small smile broke free on her beautiful face. “And maybe more cats.”
I don’t know how, but I managed to let out an insane laugh. Both of us still wet with tears. “Sure, my Gracie. You can have cats. Fuck, you can have whatever animal you want. Cats. Dogs. Pigs. Horses. I don’t care. You want it, it’s yours.”
I leaned into her hand as she touched my face in a warm embrace.
“I love you, Liem.” She rested her forehead on mine. “But please don’t get me any pigs.”
We laughed. Then we cried. I didn’t know how long we stayed in that parking lot for, but leaving made it real, leaving made her dying real and I wasn’t ready to accept that. So, we stayed. Paralyzed to reality.
Just numb.