Chapter 18
POPE
The red and blue lights from all the squad cars outside the building still flash in my vision as I stumble into the lobby filled with officers and our security personnel.
Dad’s call only moments ago still rings in my ears, the words impossible to comprehend or accept.
A sniper shot up the condo. Bishop went after the shooter. Atlas left with the girls and Benjamin…
I hold out hope for a few brief moments that he was wrong, that the frantic call from Bishop was a mistake, a misunderstanding…
Until I see the looks on the faces of the people we hired to help protect us and prevent exactly this from happening.
No. No. No.
I stagger to the elevator to take it up. The only reason I’m even getting through is the Hawkes’ connections in the force and the fact that the lead detective personally knows Dad and Gabe.
But I would fight my way to the penthouse if I had to.
The moment the cab reaches the top floor and lets me out, I storm down the hallway and through the open door to Isaac and Jack’s place.
Cops swarm the living room and kitchen, broken glass and bullets littering the floor.
My heart lodges in my throat, making it nearly impossible to breathe.
I was prepared to spill blood to get here; I just wasn’t prepared for this level of destruction or the confirmation that every word I was told was true.
Good God…
It looks more like a war zone than the opulent condo Isaac calls home, which had become our refuge for the last few days.
Isaac stands with Jack and Giovanni near a cluster of officers. He sees me and rushes over, his face grim, shoulders and jaw tense.
My body trembling, I take in the devastation. Bullet holes in the walls, furniture, and tile. Broken lamps and shattered windows. Benjamin’s play mat spread on the floor with chunks of drywall scattered across it.
I fight the urge to vomit the bourbon I drank at Savage’s office, struggling to swallow it down. “Where the fuck are they?”
Isaac shakes his head, his blue eyes filled with the same distress I feel. “We don’t know.”
Those words hit me as hard as these bullets would have.
“What the fuck do you mean that you don’t know?”
Jack comes over, Giovanni sound asleep on her shoulder. “We were almost home from Stone and Nora’s when he called to tell us what happened. Nora came and picked up Viviana before she saw any of this. They let us come up, but all we know is that it’s been twenty minutes and no one’s heard from them.”
Twenty minutes might as well be a lifetime…
Scrubbing my hands over my face, I wrack my brain for any way to locate them. “Are their phones working? Can you track them?”
Isaac shakes his head. “We’ve been trying. Atlas, Astrid, and Allie all left their phones here. Kennedy is the only one who has hers, and either it’s not on or it’s dead.”
“Fuck!” I pace away from him, glass crunching under my feet. “Where were they heading?”
Jack exchanges a nervous look with Isaac. “Atlas knows to get to the hospital or the club, but they haven’t shown up either place.”
“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” I press my hands to my temples and stumble back a few steps, my eyes taking in the rest of the disaster in front of me from this new position. “Jesus…is that blood?”
My stomach turns for the first time in my life at the sight of it. A patient can come into the ER with a severed limb and it doesn’t affect me, but the crimson drops and streaks across the tile are like a punch directly to the stomach.
“Is that, oh, God, who got hit? Who got—”
Isaac wraps his arm around my shoulders. “We don’t know, Pope. Just take a breath.”
“Take a breath?” I jerk out of his hold, the sheer panic threatening to overwhelm me. “We don’t know where the fuck they are or who was hurt. How can you fucking say that?”
He grabs my arms and squeezes tightly, forcing me to still. “Because I’ve been there. I watched that asshole take Jack, and I didn’t know if I was ever going to get her back. I’ve literally been where you’re standing, okay? You having a meltdown isn’t going to help anything.”
His words snap me out of the fear spiral and help me focus. “We have to find them.”
Giving me a firm nod, Isaac’s confidence reflects in his steady gaze. “We will.”
“There’s a tracker in the car, right? Why weren’t they using it?”
Isaac clenches his jaw. “We pulled it out when you took it up to Shreveport, just in case anybody figured out a way to tap into the tracking program and went looking for you.”
“Shit.”
The very thing we did to keep ourselves hidden then is making it impossible to locate them now.
A vision of Allie, terrified, hysterical, trying to protect Benjamin during all this, makes my vision darken until the room vanishes and all I see is them.
I shake my head, trying to clear away the worst-case-scenario images and come up with a plan. “Something must have happened. They would’ve been to the club by now, and I was coming from that way and didn’t see them. If they reached the hospital, either Nora or I would have gotten a call from one of the staff, or one of them would have gotten in touch from there.”
Isaac confirms my analysis with a grim nod, and I stumble over and drop onto one of the chairs, sucking in a shaky breath.
One of the police officers milling about approaches, giving me a concerned look. “Are you all right?”
“I…”
No. I’m not fucking all right.
“You were residing here, correct?” He raises a brow. “We’re going to need to interview you.”
“Yeah…”—I nod absently, still scanning the damage—“of course.”
Though, it’s the last thing on my priority list.
They don’t need to do an investigation—we know who did this and why.
And everyone would have preferred to keep New Orleans’ finest out of this, but something as public and devastating as this wasn’t going to be kept quiet. There wasn’t any way we could have contained it. Which means the police are now going to be involved. It may help us find them faster, but it also complicates everything with our plan to take out the fucker responsible.
I look up at Isaac and Jack, who stand, watching me like they’re waiting for me to break completely. “Do you think he has them?”
Isaac’s jaw clenches again, and a muscle there tics. “I don’t know who else would be shooting at us…”
Shaking my head, I stare out at the balcony, now wide open with shards of glass sticking up in places around the frame. “I don’t get it, though. He wants Benjamin. Why would he risk…”
The words won’t even come out—I can’t say them.
I won’t let myself believe that the blood belongs to any of them, even though the evidence says it must.
Jack hands Giovanni off to Isaac and squats in front of me, clasping my hands in her smaller ones. “Because when people get desperate, they do stupid shit. Maybe whoever he had shooting didn’t follow orders. Maybe he was supposed to watch and ensure the baby wasn’t in danger. I don’t know.”
Tears prick my eyes, and I pull my hands from hers and rub them away, determination taking over my panic. “I have to go look for them.”
The police officer turns back to me. “Sir, I need to interview you before you leave.”
I glance up at him. “I wasn’t even here. I don’t know anything.”
“Sir—”
“Am I under arrest?”
The cop narrows his eyes on me. “No.”
I push out of the chair. “Then I’m leaving. You can get my statement later.”
Isaac smirks his approval, and Jack backs away, giving me room to move toward the door. Isaac follows me out into the hallway to the elevator.
He stops next to me, his brows raised. “Where are you going?”
I look at him and the baby, not that much older than Benjamin, sleeping so soundly despite the turmoil swirling around him. “I’m going to find them, and then, I’m going to kill that motherfucker.”
Isaac punches in the elevator code, and the doors slide open immediately. I step in, turning to face him. He wants to come with me. I can see it in his gaze, but with his son in his arms, he has to stay.
And I completely understand.
His hard smile almost breaks me before the doors start to close. “Good luck.”
Those parting words echo in the cab as the elevator zooms down, my stomach dropping with it. Each passing floor seems to take hours instead of seconds—every single one giving Roselli more time to find them if he hasn’t already. Or if he already has them—
God…is this the kind of fear they all felt?
I squeeze my eyes closed, trying to fight through the cloud of panic that will impede my ability to think clearly.
The ding indicating I hit the main floor sets me in motion immediately, and I step out into the lobby that’s crawling with police and our security personnel. Dad and Gabe stand, speaking with the detective who allowed me upstairs, but they break away from him when they see me.
I approach them, scanning the lobby. “Have you found out anything?”
They both give me bleak looks, and before either can even say anything, I brush past them toward the front doors.
“I’m going out to look for them.”
Dad hustles after me, grabbing my arm to stop me from advancing. “Where? Where are you going to look?”
I shake off his hold. “I don’t fucking know, but I can’t just sit here, waiting, hoping that somebody finds them and that they’re okay. There’s blood up there.”
They both cringe, and two of the strongest men I know are on the verge of tears.
Gabe nods and swallows thickly. “We know—”
The glass lobby doors open, and Bishop stumbles in, out of breath, her braids loose from her bun.
Holy shit…
Dad rushes to meet her, helping her to the wall so she can lean against it. “Bishop, where the fuck have you been? Did you find the shooter?”
She shakes her head, pressing her hand over her chest, then slides down to the tile. “I saw him three buildings over, corner window, but by the time I got over there and up, he was gone. The only evidence he was ever there was the open fucking window.”
Gabe shoves a hand through his hair. “Shit. The apartment?”
“Unoccupied.”
I slam my fist into the wall next to her. “Fuck.”
She glances up at me. “Have you found them?”
We all shake our heads…unable to even say the words because we all know what it means.
Nothing good.
Bishop drops her head low between her knees. “This is my fault. I should have been upstairs with them instead of down here.”
Dad squats in front of her, resting a hand on her knee. “This isn’t your fault. What could you have done from up there?”
She shakes her head as tears slide out of the corners of her eyes. “I don’t know, but I should have been with them. I should have been the one driving them out of here, then maybe—”
Gabe crosses his arms over his chest. “No, you did the right thing going after the shooter. He could have led us straight to Roselli. And maybe he still can.” He motions to one of the officers milling around in the lobby and brings him over. “We need a rush on the testing of the bullets.”
The man in uniform, whom I recognize as a “friend” of the Hawkes, flips open his notepad. “What do you need to know?”
“Manufacturer, caliber, anything that could help me track down the sales. If they’re specialty rounds, they should be easier to find, and we can figure out who bought them. That might lead us somewhere.”
Slowly, far too slowly.
Time isn’t on our side.
The longer they’re out there, unprotected, the easier it is for Roselli to finally get what he wants—Benjamin. And once he has him, Allie, Atlas, and Astrid won’t stand a chance.
Bishop climbs to her feet, her gaze locked on mine. “Are you going to look for them?”
I nod.
She twists her hair back up and secures it, determination set on her face. “I’m going with you.”
The officer holds up a hand. “Ma’am, we need to interview you. We’ll need to have you take us over to where you think the shooter was set up.”
Bishop gives him a look that tells him that absolutely isn’t happening and follows me out the front doors and to my car.
* * *
ALESSANDRA
Kennedy’s handstighten on my arms, physically restraining me from launching myself at Daniele as he walks around the dingy warehouse, holding a screaming, hysterical Benjamin. She brushes her lips against my ear, trying not to let him or any of his men see she’s talking to me. “Don’t. You don’t know what he’ll do.”
Considering he was willing to have someone fire shots into the place where his son was living…
She’s right.
I don’t know what he would do if I tried to take Benjamin from him. Though I suspect he would have no problem ordering one of his many goons milling about to kill all of us if I make the grab.
He threatened as much the moment he snatched Benjamin from my arms in the first place, and he doesn’t seem to give a shit about the fact that Atlas and Astrid are deteriorating by the minute.
I drag my gaze from Benjamin and assess Atlas and Astrid beside us, bile rising up my throat at their condition.
Blood trickles from under Atlas’ tattooed hand clamped over his left shoulder, and the red spreading across Astrid’s shirt drips from her side to the filthy, cracked cement floor we’re all sitting on.
If they don’t get help soon…
Don’t think that.
You can’t think that way.
I try to control my mounting panic, inhaling long and slow before I risk opening my mouth to broach the subject with Dan again. Because this can’t go on. I might have survived that shooting, but I won’t survive hearing Benjamin in so much distress.
Tugging out of Kennedy’s hold, I hold up my hands, trying to appear as unthreatening as possible. “He’s terrified, Dan. And probably hungry. Let me take him.”
His hard eyes cut to me—filled with animosity, hatred, and distrust.
They used to be so different, once held what I thought was affection when he looked at me. So much has changed about him that I barely recognize the man anymore.
Where is the affable, talented musician I tumbled into bed with?
It seems like he’s completely gone now—not even a hint of the person I spent time with remains—replaced by this angry, violent man willing to hurt us to get what he wants.
He approaches me slowly, sneering, completely ignoring the cries of his son. “You think I’m ever giving him back to you again?” His humorless laugh echoes through the vast space, and he shakes his head. “Not. Fucking. Happening.”
Turning away, he bounces Benjamin and talks to him low enough that I can’t hear, which only seems to upset the baby more.
The more frantic his cries get, the more they eat away at my soul.
Benjamin has never known anything but gentle touches and pure love from me, Pope, or anyone else who has ever handled him. And even so tiny, he can sense something is wrong—that the man holding him is wrong.
It should be Pope.
Pope is his father in every way that matters, and Daniele is nothing more than a monster who will never offer him anything but fear and pain.
“Please, Dan…” I repeat his name softly, hoping to reach any small part of the person I knew who might be buried under all this hostility—“just let me calm him down and see if he’s hungry. I’ll give him back.”
It’s a fucking lie.
I’ll hand my baby back to him over my dead body.
I try to keep my expression neutral even though I can feel Kennedy tense beside me, preparing herself to intervene if she needs to on my or Benjamin’s behalf.
Dan considers it for a moment, watching Benjamin wailing and thrashing in his arms, then narrows his eyes on me and shakes his head. “I don’t trust you.”
“Then why don’t you just kill me and the rest of us?” The words come out before I can bite them back, the question slicing through the tense air around us.
Astrid gasps from my other side, and Kennedy’s jaw drops as she looks at me like I’ve lost my mind.
She tugs me against her. “What the fuck are you doing? Why the hell would you ask him that?”
I push her off and climb to my feet. Dan watches me, and so do his men, trying to suss out what I’m doing as I approach.
As if I have a fucking clue.
But playing nice wasn’t working, and I can’t sit back and watch my baby suffer anymore. Not when Dan doesn’t seem to give a shit about what’s best for him.
I hold out my hands. “Give him to me.”
Benjamin turns his head toward my voice, desperate for someone he knows, someone he trusts.
Dan hesitates for a moment, then looks at his screaming son, considering his options. “Five minutes, then you give him right back. And I’m watching you the entire time.”
Thank God…
“Fine.” I snatch Benjamin away quickly, before Dan can change his mind, and cradle him to my chest, whispering words of encouragement as I pace in front of the wall where Dan had us dumped when he led us in here at gunpoint. “It’s all right, buddy. I have you. You’re okay…”
Benjamin starts to calm slightly, but he turns his head toward my chest like he wants to eat. The poor kid has probably been hungry this entire time, and his douchebag sperm donor didn’t give a shit about it.
That buys me more time with him in my arms and away from Dan. And right now, I’ll take any win we can get, no matter how small.
I settle back on the floor beside Kennedy, casting a worried glance at Atlas and Astrid, who both look weaker and weaker by the minute.
Dan watches me with untrusting, narrowed eyes, and I turn away slightly to expose my breast and let Benjamin latch. That seems to appease him almost instantly, and he nuzzles against me, pressing one small hand to my neck and clutching my shirt in the other.
The man keeping us hostage doesn’t look away for a second, and he still holds all the cards.
Now that I have Benjamin, I take a moment to examine Dan closely. Unlike the easy, laid-back man who used to play the most beautiful songs at The Grind, this version of Dan is jittery, on edge.
And why wouldn’t he be?
His father was murdered basically in front of him, and he decided he wanted to run a criminal empire, knowing others would stand against him.
He started a war by claiming the Roselli territory.
If he had just let it go, Francis Gilardi would have stepped up, and he would have been the one to face Satriano. Instead, Dan has created a three-way conflict…one he’s unlikely to win. Add to that his desperation to find Benjamin for the last two months and he’s on the precipice of unraveling completely.
We can’t do anything to push him in the wrong direction, or we’ll suffer the consequences, especially Benjamin.
Maybe don’t encourage him to kill us again, Al.
Now that I have my baby in my arms, it seems like a fucking stupid thing to have said to him.
Reckless.
But it got Benjamin away from that monster, so I can’t regret it.
Not when I’ve been wondering it since we fled the condo and got intercepted by his goons…
Why didn’t they shoot all four of us and take Benjamin?
Dan runs his hands through his hair, pacing and watching us with an unhinged gaze. He focuses on me, pressing his lips together, muttering something under his breath.
Kennedy levels him with her icy glare. “Did you say something?”
I cast a glance at her, begging her to be quiet with a look I hope she catches.
But it’s too late.
He sneers at her, his agitation growing. “You want to know why I haven’t killed all four of you yet? The only reason I’m keeping you alive is because I need you.”
Kennedy shifts forward from against the wall, her curiosity piqued. “For what?”
Dan glances around the warehouse at his men, who all seem to be milling about, waiting for something. “I have a meeting with Luca Abello soon.”
Luca?
My heart skips a beat, and I peek at Atlas and Astrid, who aren’t in any condition to offer me their reactions. Kennedy’s jaw drops, and she casts a quick glance at me.
Swallowing thickly, I adjust my hold on Benjamin, hoping Dan doesn’t pick up on my reaction. “Why?”
He gives me a little satisfied grin. “It turns out he isn’t very happy with the Hawkes and is interested in backing me.”
No fucking way.
Luca would never help Roselli.
Not in a billion years.
It must be some kind of act, a ploy to draw Dan out when we couldn’t find him for so long.
Trying to school my features, I meet his gaze. “If you have him. Why do you need us?”
He gives me a half grin. “Because if he shows up and it’s any sort of trap, if he or anyone else in your family tries anything, then I have all of you as hostages. They know I would never hurt my son. I need people I can hurt.”
Never hurt his son?
Rage fires through my blood, and I snap. “You fired shots into the fucking condo.” I bite back the worse things I want to say. “You could’ve hit him.”
Dan’s jaw hardens, gaze drifting down to where Benjamin still feeds. “That was a mistake. I told him not to shoot unless he was confident the baby was in another room.” He fists his hands at his side. “And that misstep has been rectified.”
Icy confirmation that he killed the shooter. And while normally that idea would be revolting, he was the man who shot at Benjamin and us, so I hope he burns in Hell, along with anyone else who ever backed this psychopath.
Atlas releases a little groan, shifting himself up more and glaring at Dan. “Do you think that scares us? Telling us you killed him and want to kill us?” He sucks in a sharp gasp, his pain evident in his shaky words. “You know the Hawkes don’t respond well to threats.”
Apparently, there is some more fight in him than might appear evident…
Dan walks over to him and squats. “Ah, Atlas Hawke…”—his hard eyes trace over Atlas’ tattoos—“the black sheep of the family. I heard you have quite a boxing career.” His gaze drops to Atlas’ injured arm. “If you survive this, that might be in jeopardy.”
Atlas sneers and tries to push up to go after him, but one of Roselli’s men steps forward and points a gun at him.
A cold grin spreads across Dan’s lips. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you. We’re all going to sit tight until I have things squared away with Luca.”
Kennedy scowls at the man. “And then what?” She raises a brow. “Have you thought this through at all? Let’s say Luca agrees to help you, and you use us to prevent the Hawkes from trying to take you out. What then?”
I reach out and grab Kennedy’s arm. This time, it’s me trying to stop her from saying something to antagonize him. But she appears undeterred.
It seems we’ve all reached our boiling points.
Yet, watching Dan consider her question, a glimmer of hope flashes in the darkness of our current predicament.
For a split second, I thought we were going to get away from the condo earlier today. Even after Astrid was hit, I prayed we had a chance to make it to the club. But then four large SUVs cut us off, two in front and two behind, and I knew it was over.
Now, I’m not so sure.
Dan doesn’t seem to have a plan beyond getting Luca to help him, which means there’s still a chance we could get out of here alive if we don’t set him off.
He glances down at Benjamin and me, his gaze softening for a split second before it hardens again. “The most important thing was getting my son. And now that I have him, I can set everything else into motion.”
I bite back the argument that he “has his son” to see where he’s going with this. “What are you going to set in motion?”
His brows rise. “You really want to know my plan?”
Kennedy and I nod.
“Once I have Luca’s backing, the rest of you won’t be necessary.” He practically spits the words at us, then glares at me. “Especially you.” Squatting in front of me, he releases a sigh. “Things could’ve been so different, Alessandra, if you had just told me about the baby. We could’ve raised him together. We could’ve had a life together, filled with power and money…”
He reaches out and twirls a strand of my hair around his finger. I jerk my head away from him.
“But you had to go and fuck all that up, didn’t you?” Tsking, he pushes back to his feet and shakes his head. “Well, now you’ll pay the price for it. You and the rest of the Hawkes.”