32. Jackson
JACKSON
The salty breeze from the harbor does nothing to cool my temper as I pace the narrow space between two shipping containers. Metal walls tower around us, creating shadows in the already dark night. My hands flex, itching to punch something.
"Jax better not have let anything happen to her." I check my watch for the tenth time in two minutes.
Blade leans against his motorcycle, leather jacket creaking as he crosses his arms. A smirk plays on his face. "When have my guys ever steered you wrong?"
"First time for everything."
"Nah, they got this." He runs a hand through his dark hair. "Though I gotta say, didn't expect you to call in this favor over a woman. Usually it's weapons or territory disputes."
I stop pacing to fix him with a hard stare. "She's not just some woman."
"Clearly." His eyebrows shoot up. "The infamous Jackson Amato, getting worked up over a girl. Never thought I'd see the day."
"You done?"
"Not even close." He pushes off his bike. "But I'll save the rest for when she's here to enjoy it too. Your angel's got quite the reputation herself, you know. You should actually owe me another favor since I technically introduced you-"
His phone rings, cutting him off. The conversation is brief, just a few grunts of acknowledgment before he hangs up.
"That was Jax. They got them - the whole crew. Your girl's safe. They're heading this way now."
I grunt, the knot in my chest refusing to loosen. Until I see Aliyah with my own eyes, until I can touch her and know she's unharmed, the rage and worry will keep burning through my veins.
"You really got it bad, don't you?" Blade's voice has lost its teasing edge.
I don't answer. I don't need to. The fact that I called in one of my biggest favors, that I'm standing here instead of handling this myself, says everything. It killed me to separate us but it was the only way to set the trap.
The rumble of an approaching car breaks through the tension. My muscles coil tighter as a black SUV rounds the corner between the shipping containers. The vehicle barely stops before I spot her through the window - alive, whole.
Jax opens the back door, his hand steady on Aliyah's elbow as he guides her out. Her usual grace falters for just a moment as her heels hit the concrete. My feet move before I can think, closing the distance between us in three long strides.
"Angel." The word scrapes from my throat as I cup her face between my palms. Her skin is cool against my hands, those light brown eyes meeting mine with their usual defiance despite the slight tremor in her frame.
"I'm fine." Her fingers wrap around my wrists, but she doesn't pull away. "Really, tough guy. Not even a scratch."
"Damn, girl. Never thought I'd see you outside Lou's." Blade's voice carries across the space. "Though the company you're keeping these days is a definite upgrade from serving burnt coffee."
A ghost of her usual smirk touches her lips. "Please. That coffee kept you running through plenty of late nights, and you know it."
My thumb traces her cheekbone, drawing her attention back to me. The elaborate twists in her hair have started coming loose, dark strands falling around her face. She's dressed to kill in the clothes I bought her - dark jeans and a fitted black top that makes her look both dangerous and delicate.
"I'm okay," she whispers, just for me. Her hand slides up to cover mine, the diamond tennis bracelet on her wrist catching the light. "They didn't even get near me, I swear."
"I still didn't like you out of my sight." I drop my hands to her shoulders, running them down her arms just to feel her solid and real beneath my touch. She's shaken, trying to hide it behind her usual steel, but I can feel the slight tremors running through her body.
"Hate to break up this touching reunion." Blade's boots scrape against concrete as he approaches. "But we got some other business to handle."
He jerks his chin toward the SUV. Two of his men drag out familiar faces - the bastards from the mailroom. My fingers dig into Aliyah's shoulders before I force myself to let go.
The first guy stumbles as they shove him forward, that distinctive spider web tattoo stark against his throat. Blood has dried beneath his nose, suggesting Blade's men didn't bring them in quietly. Good.
The second one walks with more swagger despite his bound hands, brass knuckles still attached to his fingers. They catch the light filtering between the containers as he flexes his hands. His eyes lock onto Aliyah and his lip curls.
My body moves before I can think, placing myself between them and her. A low growl builds in my chest.
"Easy there." Blade's hand claps my shoulder. "They're not going anywhere." He turns to Aliyah, that easy smile of his sliding into place. "Though I gotta say, sweetheart, you've got interesting taste in admirers. These two have quite the reputation."
"Not by choice." Aliyah's voice carries that hidden steel I've come to expect. She steps around me, head high despite the way her hands tremble. "Though I'm guessing they didn't mention who sent them."
Brass Knuckles spits on the ground. "Fuck you."
"Now that's not very polite." Blade's smile doesn't waver, but his eyes go cold. "And here I was hoping we could handle this civilized-like." He looks at me. "Your show now. How you want to play this?"
I crack my knuckles, watching fear finally crack through Spider Web's cocky facade. "Think it's time we had a chat about their employer."
Spider Web's jaw clenches as I step closer. Blood drips from his split lip onto the concrete. "Last chance. Who sent you?"
"Go to hell." He tries to lunge forward, but Blade's men yank him back.
I crack my neck, the sound echoing off the metal containers. "Wrong answer." My fist connects with his stomach. He doubles over, wheezing.
"Jackson" Aliyah's voice carries a warning note. I ignore it.
Brass Knuckles laughs - a hollow, desperate sound. "You think this changes anything? You can't protect her forever."
My vision goes red. I grab his throat, squeezing just enough to make him gasp. "Watch me."
"Such loyalty." A new voice cuts through the tension, smooth as silk and twice as deadly. "It would be admirable if it wasn't so misplaced."
Everyone freezes. The voice comes from behind the shipping container to our left. Footsteps echo, getting closer.
"Boss-" Spider Web starts, but Brass Knuckles kicks him.
"Shut up," he hisses.
I push Aliyah behind me, drawing my gun in one fluid motion. Blade mirrors my movement, both of us tracking the approaching footsteps.
"Now, now." The voice gets closer. "Let's not be hasty. After all, if you want answers about who sent them..." Suddenly, it seems to shift…like it's behind me. "You should really ask me directly, not my men."
A gunshot cracks through the air like thunder.
The sound bounces off metal walls, creating an echo that seems to go on forever. Time slows to a crawl. I feel Aliyah's nails break skin through my shirt. Someone screams.
Then everything goes silent.