22. Hollywood
22
HOLLYWOOD
“I t’s good to see you again, my friend,” Rico said, holding his hand out to Slip when we’d made it to the rendezvous spot for the run to Asheville. The cartel had met us here on time, not a minute later, and Rico immediately welcomed Slip like an old comrade.
I agreed with Doc that having this many guys on a run at one time smelled like a trap, but I didn’t argue, especially not when we got to the pickup point and a trailer full of goodies waited for us. Picasso had driven the truck since he was well into his sixties and riding a bike for hours at a time flared his sciatica. Now that he’d attached the hitch, we were ready to head out.
Which was fucking good because after what happened with V, I itched in more ways than one. Hearing her tell me she didn’t trust me ... didn’t trust this ... ached more than I thought it would. Sure, she had a point. We’d only been doing this a few weeks, barely a month, but I’d known her for over a decade. She was my sort of friend before we hooked up, and now that we’d confessed our love, I didn’t understand how she couldn’t be in this one hundred percent like I was.
I’m not sure where this is going, and until I am ...
Where else could it go? I’d never told anyone I loved them before. I’d never been this vulnerable with anyone. Even if we’d only been doing this for a short amount of time, I couldn’t resist the way I’d felt about her. The fact that she didn’t want anyone to know because she harbored shame about me cut like a fucking knife.
Hearing her saying she was in love with me had rattled around in my head since the words left her pretty lips, flooding my chest with warmth and emotions I’d never thought I’d feel. It had happened quickly between us, but that didn’t make it any less real. And then she’d gone and torn my heart out, clenching it in her beautiful bloody little fists.
Calm down. I’ll go home and talk it out with her. She still loves me. She still wants me. It was just an argument. We were bound to have one sooner or later.
Her heartbreaking “are you breaking up with me?” yanked at my soul, giving me hope that this was far from over.
I won’t let her end it. She’s mine in ways no one else ever has been. I’ll make her see she can really trust me. I’ll fight for her. I will.
I didn’t like leaving her like that, but we both needed space to think. My ass ached from the fifty “sluts” bruised into it, and I still felt her strap deep inside me. But I rode a little easier knowing Castor and Wheels were looking out for her and the rest of the MC princesses while we were here, even if we were in a rocky place.
“I don’t know how you do it,” I said to KC while Slip and Rico finished the deal.
“Do what?” KC pulled on a cigarette while he leaned back against his bike.
“Leave Alba alone all fucking day while you do these runs.” I ran a hand back through my hair, letting my breath out on a sigh. “V and I got into a fight yesterday and I’m twitchy as hell being this far away from her.”
KC pat me on the shoulder, and I bit back a wince from where V had sunk her teeth into my trap muscle earlier that morning.
“It doesn’t get easier, brother,” KC said. “But the Roses are there, and Selene won’t let anything happen to V.”
That was the only thing easing my anxiety. We were three hours south of Madison County, so if the shit hit the fan, it would be at least that long until I could get there to fix it. My stomach churned and my heart pounded, making my hands sweaty.
“What did you two fight about?” KC asked, narrowing his eyes in a sympathetic glance.
“She didn’t want people to know about us. She still thinks I’m gonna leave her ... or fucking die.”
KC snorted and shook his head. “Well, you can’t blame her for that, huh? Her mother died when she was a kid. Her brother nearly got blown up last year. And how many times have you been shot?”
I swallowed down the truth in that. “I just wished she trusted me.”
“I’ve known V her whole life. My little cousin’s not scared of much, but when it comes to the heavy emotions, she’s terrified of getting hurt.” KC smiled, a nostalgic glint in his eyes like he was envisioning the younger version of Verona. “If she’s pulling away, it means she loves you. If you want her, you need to pull harder.”
“Thanks, KC.” I nodded, more resolute in what I had to do when I got home.
“Y’all are good together. I’m happy for you, Hollywood. Truly.”
I wouldn’t let her keep me at arm’s length. What we had was too good for that. Assuming, of course, that I made it home. Something about this run didn’t feel right, and it had nothing to do with the cartel or the arms we’d just picked up. It ached like a glass splinter, like I knew it was there, but I couldn’t find it no matter what I tried.
“All right,” Slip said, turning to us and circling his finger in the air, indicating we should round up to head out. I mounted my bike and kicked it to life, following Slip and KC when they led the way down the road. Picasso followed in the truck with the trailer behind him, the rest of my brothers bringing up the rear.
Twenty minutes into the trip home, tension flared in my chest again, like I should know better than to be here instead of with V, but I couldn’t put my finger on why.
It’s just another run, I told myself. Nothing to worry about.
That shitty affirmation did not stop me from checking over my shoulder every ten minutes to make sure we weren’t being followed. The guys in the back would handle it if we were, but still, my suspicion ached like a phantom limb.
Another two hours went by, and once we got into Virginia, Slip took us off the main highway and led us the back way. I figured it was because we were carrying extra accessories. We’d just turned onto a winding country road when my stomach sank into my knees. Up ahead, dark SUVs blocked the path, causing our group to slow to a stop. I glanced behind us only to see more vehicles pull out of the woods to keep us from backing up.
I grabbed my pistol and unholstered it, holding it out as the doors to the Range Rovers in front of us opened. I knew we were fucked when expensive loafers hit the ground and I heard Slip’s voice in the headset of my helmet.
“It’s the Caputis. Everyone remain calm,” he said, dismounting his bike.
KC glanced at me from the side, his eyes wide with growing panic. The men got out of the SUVs behind us, at least twenty to our mere six.
“We’re fucked,” Lore murmured, knowing everyone would pick it up in their earpieces.
“Stay calm,” Picasso repeated from the truck. “If anything happens, leave the guns and fucking scatter. We’ll regroup back at the clubhouse.”
“What the fuck is this?” Slip said, walking up to the eight Caputis in front of him like his life wasn’t literally on the line. “Y’all got a death wish?”
One of the taller Caputis walked forward, a smirk on his face like Slip had said the funniest thing in the world.
“Heard you made a deal with our good buddy, Rico.” The Caputi shifted his shoulders, making the gaudy jewelry on his neck gleam in the afternoon sun. “We couldn’t let that stand.”
“Sounds like you got a problem with Rico, not us.” Slip pointed at the Range Rovers. “Now move your shit so we can get through.”
“Can’t do that,” the Caputi replied, pushing his coat jacket back to reveal the guns strapped to either side.
Shit, this is bad. This is really bad.
“What are you going to do with that, huh? Shoot all of us right here in broad daylight?” Slip shook his head. “You really are some dumb mother?—”
He never got the word out. One of the other Caputis pulled their gun and fired it at Slip’s head, exploding through his skull and out the other side. He dropped like a bag of bricks, and all hell broke loose.
Shock coiled through my veins, scalding hot and angry. I fired two rounds into the Caputi that shot the road captain as KC went on the attack next to me, the sounds of his firing gun nearly deafening the ear on that side of my head. Despite Picasso’s plan, I kept shooting, trying to take down as many of these fuckers as I could. A burning blast nailed me in the chest, making me stumble back, but I ignored it, choosing instead to keep firing until my clip ran empty.
“Fuck!” came the shout from next to me, and KC went down on his right, holding his leg as a bright crimson spot spread over his jeans.
“Fuck, no, no, no.” Dismissing the ache in the center of my chest, I rounded our bikes and rushed to his side, grabbing him by the cut so I could drag him out of the center of the chaos.
“Let me see,” I said, glancing down at his thigh. The bullet appeared to have gone clean through, but KC couldn’t walk like this. I whipped my belt off my jeans and wrapped it around his leg, pulling it so tight he groaned.
“Fuck, Hollywood!” he growled. “Leave me be.” His bloody hands grabbed my shirt, hauling me in close. “Go. Get our girls. Make sure they’re safe.”
“Shut the fuck up,” I said. “I’m not leaving you.”
KC winced and wiped at my chest, coming away with fresh blood on his fingers. “Fuck, man. Are you ...” He dropped his gaze to my shirt, and when I followed his line of sight, I realized I’d been shot. Again.
“Fuck.” I pulled my neckline away to see a huge dent in the padlock V had just put on me last night. But that only distracted from the flesh wound on my ribs. Luckily, it was nothing more than a cut, but it looked deep enough to need stitches, and it still fucking hurt.
I tried to push to my feet, only to collapse under the weight of my own massive form. Fuck, the bullet had probably broken a rib, too.
Slip was still in the middle of the fray, clearly dead, and Picasso was slumped over the steering wheel of the truck. Lore lay on his back up against the trailer, both arms out straight in front of him, his pistols in hand while he stared down the Caputis surrounding him. I couldn’t see Coins from my position on this side of the trailer, but judging by the way his bike flopped on its side, I assumed he had also ducked for cover.
This is it . This is the end. They’re gonna walk up and shoot us all in the head.
“Fuck.” My heart sank into my torso like lead, a sob barreling up my throat as I realized I’d never get to have that future with V like I’d imagined. I’d never get to make up with her, and she’d been right. I hoped she moved on. I hoped she found someone better, someone that would love her and take care of her the way she deserved, the way I tried to.
Her bright violet gaze flickered through my mind, followed by the sound of her laugh, and I collapsed onto the tree next to KC, relegating myself to my inevitable demise. When I’d joined the MC, I figured this would be the way it would end, especially after Trojan died this way two years ago.
These fucking Caputi fucks would take everything from me: my brother, my freedom, and now my life.
I reached into my pocket to get my cell phone, sending a quick SOS to Thor. I wanted to say goodbye to V, to roll over her name and tell her I loved her again, to apologize for the way I’d left things. But the world had started to go wonky, and I didn’t think I’d be able to see the letters.
I tried, I said to Trojan, wherever he was. I tried to keep my promise.
“Don’t you fucking do that to me,” KC growled, slapping me in the face. “You get your shit together, Hudson. You don’t get to check out. Not here. Not today.”
The sharp shock of pain brought me back to myself, and I gasped, sucking in air. My vision sharpened, and I shook my head, reaching for my hunting knife just in case these bastards came closer to us.
“Now, now,” said a Caputi prick as he walked toward me. “There’s no need for more violence. At least, not yet.”
I swallowed down sweat and panic, scooting closer to KC to protect him with my body, to do anything to keep my brother safe so he could get home to his Sunshine.
“What the fuck do you want?” I snarled.
The Caputi only smiled and squatted down in front of us, his grin turning evil as a sinister look appeared in his eyes.