Trig (Nine and Trig Book 2)

Chapter 6. Justice

It’s been almost eight weeks since the reckoning took place. The aftermath of it all felt like I was sweeping up a tornado mess with nothing more than a broken broom. I’ve ordered everyone in the doctor’s house to never discuss any of it in front of Nine. She’s depressed. She barely eats, and seems easily distracted, and rightfully so. She fake smiles in front of us just to save her pain for when she’s alone. I hear her sobbing in the bathroom quite often. She never lets me in, and when she comes out, I comfort her the best I can, and even then, my touch or words seem to have no effect these days. I’m patient with her sadness. Her anger. Her isolation. The doctor says her mental recovery is whenever she wants it to be. One month, six months, and sometimes never. He added that her body would take months to heal. He said she’d have some side effects from the surgery, such as heat flashes and mood swings. I scoff at that last comment. Ironically, Nine’s whole life has been one big-ass side effect, but then again, so has mine.

I too am sampling the bitter taste of depresso coffee. My leg is nowhere near where it needs to be. Doc says it’s a good six months as well before I’ll be able to walk right, if I ever do. I maintain this limp that makes me feel inadequate. Nothing will fuck up your ego and pride more than not being able to function how you used to. Not to mention the pain. I can’t even put pressure on it without grimacing. But complaining like a little bitch is not going to fix it. So instead, I just wash my depression down with a pain pill every so often.

“What the fuck, man? Are we doing this or not?” I whisper in frustration, as I stare at Gabriel.

“Patience. Just five more minutes.”

I roll my eyes and push my back against the couch.

“I don’t understand what we’re waiting for. It’s been weeks. I’ve sat around here like some tired grandpa on the couch, at your request. I’ve waited as long as I can for this leg to heal up. I can’t do this shit anymore. I want him dead.”

Just then we hear a knock at the door. I pull the gun out of my waistband. Gabriel jumps off the couch, peaks through the peephole, and then quickly opens the door. Three men walk in. Two tall and one short. They both eye me up and down and then turn their attention back to Gabriel. I don’t like the way they look so I’m ready to unload all my shit now.

“Do we got a problem, fellas?” I ask, gun pointed up.

They all remain silent.

“This is what we’ve been waiting for, Trig,” Gabriel says, as I stare at them, confused. “Let me introduce you. These are my late wife’s brothers. Names are not necessary. They’re more than willing to risk their lives if it means they get revenge for her death. They want to help us take down that whole fucking operation. No stone unturned. These men are all in. The only question they have is which one of us gets the honor of killing Carmen.”

“That would be me,” Nine’s voice sounds from behind me.

I put my gun away, stand up, and walk over to her.

“Fuck no! You’re staying here. Are you insane? You’re not ready for this.”

“And you? Are you ready?” She waves her hand down, indicating my gimp leg.

“It’s different.”

“I want my life back. I need to breathe again. It feels like I’m wearing this heavy coat of suffering and all I want to do is shed it. I want the honor.”

“Nine, everyone in this room is wearing the same damn coat.”

“I said I want it. If you don’t let me come and rip out his insides, I’ll rip out yours instead,” she pushes.

She looks away from me while biting her bottom lip. Her persistence makes me want to breathe out fire. I take a moment to steady my nerves and suffocate my lack of patience. We all need this to happen, to be there, and to extract our piece of the revenge pie. I nod as the realization sets in.

“I don’t want you anywhere near Carmen.” I pause. “But…you can have someone else.”

She knows. “His daughter?”

She licks her lips and throws her head back as if I just sweetened the deal.

“When do we leave?” she asks.

“Now,” Gabriel says.

We all start to shuffle around. With the mission on, the energy shifts from dark to light and then back to dark again. Gabriel’s brothers-in-law run out to their vehicle and come back in with a few suitcases loaded down with a variety of guns. I feel like a kid in a candy store. The beauty of these weapons excites me.

“Those are fucking nice,” Gabriel says. Everyone else just nods.

While we’re all admiring the display of today’s murder weapons, the doctor’s wife keeps Mya busy in another room. My adrenaline is ramping up with each second.

“Everyone, grab your fav, and I’ll toss the rest in the car,” one of the brothers says.

We pick out a few and stand there waiting for a few seconds. It’s the quietness that sets in; maybe a realization that today may go terribly wrong.

“Everyone ready?” Gabriel asks.

The other three men nod. Nine and I just stare at each other.

“Give us a second. One last thing to do,” I say.

We walk hand in hand toward the room where Mya is playing. She sees us and jumps off the doctor’s wife’s lap. I move my bad leg out of the way as she barrels over to hug my good one.

“Hey, listen! Mommy and I are going to go out.”

“Like on a date?” She grins.

I swallow to coat my dry throat.

“Yeah. Like on a date.”

“What time are you coming back?” she asks.

“Um,” I hesitate to reply because I don’t know if we will safely return.

“We’ll be back when the stars go to sleep and the sun comes out,” Nine cuts in.

She looks at the doctor’s wife. “Woman to woman, I am asking you to protect her with your life. I owe you and your husband for a lot of things and I’m not good at expressing gratitude, but I will forever be in your debt if you keep her safe.”

“Of course. She’s in good hands,” she responds.

Nine squats down carefully and gives Mya a huge hug and a kiss. “I love you very much. Always remember that.”

Nine lets go of Mya, and walks out of the room before she starts to cry. I attempt to squat down and hug Mya but can only go down so low.

“There is no one stronger, braver, or prettier in this world than you. You will fear nothing or no one. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

I kiss her forehead and lightly push her back to the doc’s wife.

“There’s money in our room. Enough to go anywhere you want and do anything you need to. If things go differently than planned, you take her and you run. Protect her as if she was yours,” I demand.

The doctor’s wife nods and grabs Mya’s hand, taking her away. I take a few seconds to gather my thoughts before walking out of the room.

It’s go time. We head out, dressed in all black, making our way to the SUV parked on the side of the house. The guys enter first. I grab Nine’s waist before she enters the vehicle, spinning her into me

“If we don’t make it out tonight—”

“Stop.” She places one hand on my chest. “We will make it out tonight. We have to.”

I inhale and then look around before returning my gaze to her.

I stroke her cheek and then lean down, kissing her gently on the lips. It feels like a goodbye forever death-kiss. We then both jump in the back seat, giving each other one last look before the engine starts up and the wheels begin to move. I reach over, grab Nine’s hand, and squeeze it tightly. She puts her other hand on top of mine. The dead silence hits again. A mixture of anticipation and fear lingers in the air, making it a bit hard to breathe. Nine’s leg is bouncing up and down and Gabriel has run his hand through his black hair over fifteen times. The other gentleman stays stiff and mute. This is it! This is the shit we have all been sitting on. There are only two things left now. Say our prayers, and go fuck shit up.

We arrive about a block away from Carmen’s place. Gabriel kills the lights and parks the vehicle out of sight. We all slide out with guns drawn, ready for the shit storm.

“Ready?” one brother asks, as he slides a black mask down on his face.

“Ready!” the other replies, as he slides his down.

“This is the plan, guys. We’re going to head in, and take out the front men quietly. No guns just yet. If we alert Carmen, he’ll have a fucking army here in no time and he’ll flee, if necessary. Once we take out the first line, you two go around the back and scope out the pool. If you see something, and it moves, kill it. The camera hook-ups need to be cut. One of you needs to locate the thick black cables that run along the back wall and snip them. Do it quickly. Don’t fuck around. I’m going through the front door with Trig and Nine.”

We all nod and pull out our guns. Nine turns to walk away, but I grab her arm.

“I never meant to put you through hell.”

“It’s fine. I miss the flames,” she says, emotionless.

With that, she cups my cheek before she turns toward Gabriel.

I painfully exhale.

“Let’s head in. Wipe them out and get the fuck out of here,” Gabriel says.

I send Nine in first as bait. She has her black sunglasses on and her hoodie pulled up over her head. We watch as she quietly walks up, tits pushed up, and ass pushed out. The three men out front surround her immediately.

“Are you lost?” one man asks. “This isn’t the type of place you want to be at, miss. I mean, unless you do.” Vega says, smirking, while grabbing his dick through his pants.

She doesn’t reply, just keeps her head down. One grabs her arm. Vega grabs at her face and tries to pull her hoodie off. With their backs now facing us, we both run up and each of us grabs one man from behind, choking them both out. Nine stabs the third man in the neck several times after he backhands her, sending her sunglasses flying into the grass. I keep my hands around Vega’s neck while he struggles, until I feel the life drain out, all the while keeping my eye on Nine.

“See you in hell, motherfucker,” I say into his ear.

I pull my knife out and slice his throat, taking pleasure in watching his blood spill. When I look up at Nine, she’s covered in blood, still stabbing the guy. She’s clearly unloading all her shit out on that dude. I drop my dead weight and run up to her, pulling her off her guy. She’s out of breath, angry, and trembling. She thrashes in my grasp to get back in close contact with her kill.

“Stop! Fucking stop. He’s dead,” I say, pulling her back into my chest. “We have more layers to peel away before we even see Carmen. Save all that energy, you’re gonna need it.”

She stops fighting, looks down at her painted-red hands, and then looks up at me with wide eyes. Shock is setting in. The realization that she took a life. She grabs at her stomach and then starts to vomit. I take the knife away from her, wipe it on my clothes, and put it in my pocket for now. When she is done emptying her stomach in the grass, I take both of the palms of her hands and slide them down my chest, cleaning off the blood on my shirt. This night will forever change her, who she used to be, and who she wants to be. There is no normal for us. Not now. Not ever. I take my hands and quickly wipe away the crimson dots on her face.

“There’s a whole lot more of this inside. Tell me now if you can’t hold it together. I’ll take you back to the car. In there, that fucking house, we won’t have time for fear. I won’t risk losing you because you freak out. The goal is we all go in. We all come out. Do you understand?”

“I’m fine. I was…having a moment. Give me that, I deserve it. I get to be here. I’m not weak. I can do this.”

I glance down at the guy who looks mutilated. I’m not judging. I’m worried. I’m worried she’ll go all overkill again and ignore her surroundings, putting herself or me in trouble, or that she’ll panic and freeze. She’s not a killer. I don’t expect perfection. I just need her head in the game because it’ll be too late to baby her once we get inside.

“Are you sure? You don’t have to do this,” I say.

“Yes, I do. I’m good.”

I look at her with concern.

“I said, I’m good,” she repeats.

I nod to her, kiss the top of both her hands, and then hand her the knife back.

“We have to keep moving,” Gabriel shouts as quietly as he can.

We all run up the front steps of the house as quickly as we can, guns drawn. My leg feels the pressure of each step as I try to keep up with them. Gabriel slowly swings open the entry door once we hit the porch. It’s dead quiet as we file inside. Two men are down the hallway, distracted while talking to each other about a recent football game. I put my gun away, sneak up from behind them, and snap one’s neck while Gabriel kills the other. All three of us continue to creep down the hallway, stopping short while pointing our guns at a door that starts to creak open next to us. Inside the doorway stands a little boy. We all freeze as we take him in.

“You have got to be shitting me,” I say in shock.

I look at his features, from his eyes to the lines on his mouth to the way he sucks his cheek in. It’s freaking me out. Nine looks at him, then back to me, and then back to him.

“Ummmmm,” is all she manages to get out.

“Bro. Is this…Is he…Would this be—” Gabriel struggles to put a sentence together.

Nine drops her gun to her side. “He looks like a mini carbon copy of you, Trig.”

We’re all standing there in a half-circle of mental fuckery, not sure where to go from here. This wasn’t part of the plan. I’m in disbelief. There is no way this kid is mine. Nope. I move my mouth around, searching for the right words but nothing comes out. Fuck! I can’t deny the boy looks just like me. He looks to be maybe a few years older than Mya. It dawns on me that many moons ago when Carmen was breaking me, Natasha forced herself on me. The thought of Natasha having my baby makes me sick. I can’t stay composed. I run my hands down my face and then I place them both on my knees. I begin to pace a little, limp and all. I’m talking to myself, trying to walk myself through what the fuck is happening.

“Ain’t no way,” I keep repeating.

Gabriel keeps giving me the ‘hurry up and process this’ look because we have shit to do. The kid just keeps staring at me quietly. Nine looks up from the kid to me.

“You guys go. Time is ticking. I’ll stay with the boy,” Nine says.

I look at her through my brows, looking for any sense of understanding.

“He might not be—” I try to say, but she cuts me off.

“I said, I got this. Now go!”

Nine turns without another word, takes the boy back into the same room, and closes the door. Gabriel and I look at each other for a brief second, shake our heads, and then we both attempt to refocus on the mission. Right then, six men stride down the hallway and halt in place when they spot us. They pull their weapons, begin to open fire, and in return, we fire back. Bullets are flying as Gabriel and I hide behind two columns for safety. We then take turns discharging bullets until we take out every last one of them. Once they’re all down, we make a run for it to Carmen’s room.

On the way here, Gabriel told us Carmen bought this house as soon as he found out we were living in Fiji. No one knows why, but he apparently has an obsession with us. Gabriel said when he’s not doing business, he’s almost always in the room that he calls his sanctuary. It’s the same room that he delivered Carmen’s female toys to. He’s sure that’s where he’ll be at this time of night. When we finally reach the room, Gabriel points at the door. We fling it open, guns drawn, and step inside not sure what to expect. Carmen’s just casually sitting on his bed, alone, gun on his thigh, smoking a cigar like it’s Saturday at the pool. His face is full of scars and permanently mutilated.

“Nice of you boys to return home. Daddy has missed you two.”

He’s always been a psycho piece of shit who doesn’t make any kind of normal sense, but this response to two men entering his bedroom with guns drawn is too calm. Even from him. We keep our guns pointed at him. We don’t move an inch because he’s strategic. Motherfucker probably has a remote-controlled bomb, booby-trap, or deadly laser ready to take us out.

“It’s over, Carmen. The games. The bullshit. You’re done,” I say as I cautiously look around.

He laughs and laughs, and then laughs some more. He picks up his gun and then waves it in the air as he speaks.

“You think I’m just going to let you come into my house, kill my men, kill me, and then what, leave?” He pauses. “That’s funny.”

“You think we need your permission? That’s funny,” Gabriel replies.

“I expected more of you, Gabriel. So much wasted potential, but with your shortcomings in Florida, I’m not surprised.” He takes a long whiff of his gun, licks the barrel, and then points it at Gabriel. “Toss your cocks around, boys. Go ahead. Just know the ego is a dangerous thing when you don’t know how to rope it in.” He then points his gun at me. “Speaking of uncontrolled egos, right about now, Natasha is probably making her way down to her son’s room. Oh, wait! Correction. I don’t want to leave you out. My apologies. He’s your son, too.” He smiles and then continues. “When Natasha sees that there’s a fox in her den, that fox being Nine, things are not going to go well. You’ve already seen what she’s capable of, and if I were you, I’d be more than a little nervous.”

“Beating someone who’s tied up isn’t really a strength or a challenge. It’s more of a bitch move, so you can fuck all the way off with that noise,” I respond.

“The Angel of Death is schooling me on punishments, as if you give your victims a fair shot. The hypocrisy is blinding, Trig.

“I take out the trash of this industry. You…you just ruin innocent people’s lives. We are not the same,” I say with a scowl.

“Let me ask you this, the people you kill, are they bad because they’re actually bad, or are they bad because I said they are? How many innocent lives have you ruined? These people had wives, children, and family. Did you ever consider that in someone else’s story, you’re the villain? Of course, you didn’t.”

“What is this, a therapy session? We”re gonna need you to shut the fuck up,” Gabriel shouts, now placing both hands on his gun that’s still pointed at Carmen.

“Look at you. Did your balls drop, son? All piss and vinegar today. I like it. It’s quite sassy of you.” He smiles like a proud demented daddy. “But again, you don’t write the rules in my game. Neither of you do. You’re both just participants in my study. My personal lab rats. Experiments if you will, so you both will shut the fuck up. Fucking toddlers with guns, you guys are. Running amuck here.” He raises his voice and fire burns in his eyes. “Now, if you’re ready to begin, I’m sounding the metaphoric alarm. You boys have a very important decision to make. Choose wisely. Option one. We get into a noisy shootout; my men barrel in like angry wasps, and everyone dies. During this time Natasha also kills Nine. Sad ending, right? Or…option two…we part ways, civilized. No harm, no foul. I take none of this personally and I allow you two to go on a mission to save Nine. What happens after that is none of my business. I know you might be thinking to yourselves, what about option three, but I assure you, time will not permit you to do both. Time starts now. Tik-Tok. Tik-Tok, boys.”

He takes a slow puff of his cigar, then he takes another, blows it out, looks at us, and then looks down at his watch. He then smiles and pushes a button on the side. “What a shame. Too late,” he says. The sound of the windows and door locks behind us. “Bulletproof room. We’re all locked in here together. I’m bored. Let’s play.”

“No more games,” I demand.

“I’m just trying to see if you hate me more than you love your wife. Imagine that. Man kills his enemy, enemy then kills his wife, and then you and Natasha run off and raise your son together. Love story I live for. Just divine. Ooh, chef’s kiss to me, the author.”

I step forward, ready to blow his face off. Gabriel puts one hand out to stop me. Carmen calmly stands up, straightens his jacket, and points his gun at me. At this point I have nothing to lose so I rush Carmen, putting all the pressure on my bad leg in the process. He fires one bullet off that barely misses me. I grab a hold of his shirt and he grabs a hold of mine. With guns in our hands, we both wrestle to try to get the other’s weapon. Gabriel looks like he’s about to shoot Carmen once we stop moving long enough for him to get a clear shot.

“Gabriel, get that door unlocked,” I grunt through my teeth.

I begin to punch the side of Carmen’s face. He drops his weapon, but still has a hold of me. I can see Gabriel out of the corner of my eye doing everything he can to get that damn door open. He’s hitting it, ramming it and kicking it with no success. In the scuffle we both crash into the wall, then the table, and then the T.V. He takes his elbow to my ribs and then pushes me over. He then quickly grabs his gun, stands up, brushes off his clothes, and then steps on my bad knee. I roar out in pain.

“You’re weak, broken and ungrateful. I no longer have use for you. I’d kill you, but instead, I’ll let Natasha decide your fate.”

Gabriel runs full speed toward us and tackles Carmen just as I pull myself up off the floor. He knocks him over, causing Carmen to fumble and drop his weapon once again. Gabriel struggles to keep him pinned. Carmen is thrashing in his grip like a wild cat. I point my gun down at Carmen, ready to shoot.

“No. Don’t. What if he’s the only one who knows how to open this door and we kill him?” Gabriel grunts out in the struggle.

I nod, as they continue to wrestle with each other. I fast limp to the door and touch every inch of it, trying to feel for a switch or button. For all I know, he’s got a deadman’s switch that will flood the room with poison gas if his heart stops beating. I’m searching every nook and cranny in the room, flipping shit over when it dawns on me, he has it on him. He must. I remember right before the door locked, Carmen was smoking a cigar, glanced at his watch and then he pushed a button on it.

“It’s the watch!” I yell.

Gabriel grabs Carmen’s arm, slams it against the nearby wall, and starts trying to get to the watch button unsuccessfully. I run over and put him in a chokehold but Carmen’s still thrashing around like a coked-up gorilla. At some point, Gabriel just starts hulk-smashing the watch, hoping for a glitch. It only takes several of those before the sound of the door clicks and it finally unlocks and opens.

“Go get Nine!” Gabriel yells. “I got this fucker.”

I run limping out of the room, down the hallway, and back downstairs to find Nine. I approach the recognizable painting on the wall outside where we first saw that kid. This is the room where I left her. The door is open and neither Nine nor the boy are to be seen. I step inside and continue to look around. The room has two rooms within it. I suddenly hear the sound of footsteps coming near. I swing around to see the diabla in the flesh. Natasha. Her eyes widen when they set on me. She lifts her gun and so do I.

“Where is the boy?” she hisses.

“I ask the questions. The kid…is he mine?”

“I think you know the truth. Come on. You clearly must have seen the resemblance.”

I shake my head.

“Why the fuck would you bring a kid into your world?”

“Why the fuck would you, Trig?”

Without hesitation, I answer.

“Because I actually still have a heart, unlike you, you fucking icebox.”

She smiles, amused, and winks.

“You’re almost turning me on, Trig. Keep talking like that and I’ll tie you up and make another with you.” She quickly eyes me up and down as I remain silent. “What’s wrong? Too soon for reminiscing, lover?” She bites her bottom lip.

Gun still pointed at her, and with my free hand, I toss up my middle finger. I refuse to fall into her traps. Instead, I just stare into her soulless eyes and imagine killing her. I can’t take action. I promised her last heartbeat to Nine.

“All games aside, Trig, this kid, he’s going to be everything you used to be and more. A fucking killing machine at my family’s disposal. No one is asking you to be a daddy for God’s sake, and I obviously don’t need your ‘end of the food chain’ type money. So, relax. You are nothing. Nothing to me, and nothing to that kid.”

“You want to use my son as a weapon?” I take in a long breath. “That’s not gonna happen.”

“Don’t act like you care about some kid you never even knew about until today. I barely care about him myself, and I raised him. I mean, what the hell happened to you? You grew soft, and I don’t think I can let you live like this anymore. It’s sad and pathetic.” She pauses. “Your fate. Hmmm. Let me decide.” She waves her gun around. “Do I fuck him or kill him? Do I fuck him and then kill him? Do I just kill him? So many options. What’s a girl to choose?”

Nine sneaks around the corner and puts her gun up to the back of Natasha’s head.

“Put the gun down, now!” Nine yells. “Turn around and get on your knees.”

Natasha grins like an evil clown and then throws her gun to the side. She keeps her eyes on me.

“I said get the fuck down!” Nine shouts.

Natasha complies by turning around first and then dropping to her knees while placing her hands in the air. Nine now towers over her, as I stand behind her with my gun still drawn.

“Do you remember me?”

Natasha remains quiet as she stares down.

“I asked you a question, bitch. Look at me.”

Natasha smirks as she looks up at Nine and then over her shoulder to me

“Yeah, princess. I know exactly who you are. You’re Vegas’s best-paid pussy who gave it all up for Trig just to become a fucking photographer. Congratulations on your career change. I assume you took a massive pay cut, but on the flip side, it must be nice to not have to take so much dick, right? Speaking of dick. Does Trig lay the best pipe or was there someone else? Perhaps someone on that very long list of clients. Do tell!”

Nine looks at me in irritation. I shake my head to remind her that this is a game of chess.

I watch Nine’s eyes lock in on something. Her brows furrow. She leans down and hovers over Natasha.

“Bitch, is that my ring? The fucking audacity. Take that off and hand it to me!”

Natasha aggressively pulls it off her finger and then slaps it down into Nine’s hand. Nine slides on her engagement ring with a pure ownership attitude, and then like nothing, swiftly kicks Natasha in the ribs. Without a second thought, she then fires off a bullet into her shoulder. I watch as Natasha grunts and then cries out. She grabs at the wound and then slumps forward resting her weight on her hands. She’s breathing hard and trembling. Nine squats down, leans forward, and whispers in her ear.

“A child for a child. You took mine, and now I want yours.”

“Suck my dick!” Natasha yells.

Nine kicks Natasha in the ribs again, puts the gun to her other shoulder, and pulls the trigger. We both watch as she screams out in pain, falls onto her side, and then curls into a protective ball on the bloody carpet.

“I’ll put him to bed, sing him songs, read him books, and one day, maybe he’ll call me Mom, and you will just be someone that never existed, you fucking monster.”

Natasha slowly lifts her head and then spits a mix of bloody saliva in the air toward Nine.

“You think I don’t know what you are. Where you come from? You’re just a trailer trash baby. Like I said, your own parents didn’t even want you. I talked to your father. I found him in prison when we were looking for you two. He can barely remember your face. I told him his little girl was taking dick up and down the Vegas strip. You know what he said? He said… he wasn’t surprised one bit.”

“Shut your damn mouth,” Nine yells, and kicks Natasha with force in the face.

Nine’s jaw is clenched. Her eyes are wide with fury. Natasha grunts, wipes her mouth off with the back of her hand, and then spits out blood on the carpet. As hard as this is to endure, I try to shelf my emotions. This kill is all hers.

“You were just a horrible mistake they never wanted, I believe is what he said. However, … I made a nice discovery…right here on the island. I did find someone who wanted you. He wanted you bad.” Natasha looks back over her shoulder to me. “Trig, you must know about Nine’s nasty secret. You do know her uncle used to touch her? You must. I mean, you put a few bullets in him and sent him to jail, right?”

I remain quiet while I glare at her. I know with that, her execution time is near.

“I figured that much based on his description of the man who shot him. He wasn’t easy to get to talk at first, but after a few threats, he exploded with info, like a pressure cooker. He’s a really sick man.” She grins. “But you like that. Did you enjoy his touch, Nine? I bet you loved it. At least that’s what he said.” She pauses, painfully out of breath. “Trig, did you tell Nine that you killed your daddy like a fucking animal? I remember that day. You were my favorite person to break.”

I briefly stare down in shame. Nine quickly lowers her gun, looks at me with empty eyes, and then in a flash raises it and pumps Natasha full of lead until she stops moving. I think it’s over but then I watch Nine pull out her knife and slice Natasha’s neck from ear to ear. Even I have to look away for a second. When it’s done, Nine stands there quietly over her body. I approach her carefully, afraid to touch her, prepared for a violent reaction, ready for a breakdown.

“Nine?” I question, trying to get a read on where her head is. “She was just fucking with your brain. It’s their strategy to hit you where they think you’re vulnerable.”

A single tear falls down her cheek. The blade of the knife at her side dripping with blood.

“It’s not that. I mean it is, but I don’t know how to explain to that poor boy that I killed his mother and dare expect him to ever like me.”

“You don’t tell him, ever. It doesn’t leave this room.” I grab her face. “Look at me.”

She slowly raises her eyes from Natasha’s dead body to me. “I had a one-night stand with a random girl many years ago before you and me. His mom showed up, left him with us, and took off, never to return. We didn’t know much about her. That is the story we tell.”

“But—”

“I said, that is the fucking story you’ll tell to anyone who asks. Natasha was a fucking demon and that boy deserves better. In time, he’ll be fine.”

I grab her gently by the neck and bring her into me, kissing her forehead. She nods. I look around.

“Where is he?”

“I safely got him out of the house. He’s in a car outside with one of our guys.”

“You did good, baby. I hope you know that, despite how it feels right now,” I say, wiping the blood from her bottom lip. I take the knife from her and run the blade down my clothes, cleaning it before I give it back to her.

Right then we hear several gunshots.

“Fuck! Gabriel and Carmen are still upstairs.”

We turn, and with me still limping, we both race down the long hall and up the staircase toward the sound. We’re now just entering the upper hallway when we spot a bloody, beat-up Carmen walking out, dragging Gabriel by one leg. I step in front of Nine to shield her. Gabriel looks to have several shots to his chest according to the bloodstains on his shirt. My heart sinks and my skin crawls while looking at Carmen’s dark expression. He drops Gabriel’s leg and then turns around and kicks it. Gabriel moans out in pain; just barely conscious it seems. Outside, we can hear gunshots firing off like crazy. I just hope the brothers are winning in that battle, because they are on their own.

“So, this is how it ends, Trig. One, or maybe all of us, die right here in this hallway. You shoot me, I shoot her, and maybe I shoot you too. This can be a fucking bullet party if you want it.”

I put my gun away by tucking it into my waistband, pull out a cigarette and light it up. Carmen looks at me in confusion. Nine steps to the side with her gun pointed at him. I take a long drag, blow out the smoke and stare dead at Carmen.

“Are you finished with the theatrics, Trig?”

I scoff as I take a few steps forward. I stop and take another long drawn-out drag from my cig, not even looking at Carmen. I exhale finally and then I lock eyes with the devil himself.

“Motherfucker, I haven’t even started.”

I throw the cigarette to the side, which slightly distracts him and then I run, slide in and knock him off his feet. A jolt of pain from my bad leg kicks in and I cry out. I’m stressing the shit out of that injury and if it weren’t for adrenaline, I”d be fucked. We wrestle on the floor for a while over the gun in his hand. A bullet or two fires off into the ceiling before he drops his weapon. I throw two hard punches at his jaw and deliver a few gorilla poundings to his chest before I feel the sharp sting of something in my side. This son of a bitch just stabbed me. I briefly fall flat to the floor in agony and I’m wondering why Nine hasn’t shot this motherfucker yet. I take a few deep breaths and then pull myself up on all fours. The silence in the room hits me. It’s deafening. I look over to see multiple guns pointed at Carmen who is now standing. Nine and two of the brothers who came with us are standing in a circle around him. Carmen smirks and then throws his hands up in defeat. I watch as the third brother reaches down and pulls Gabriel up, holding him around the waist.

“Wake up, Gabriel. You do not want to miss this part,” he says.

Gabriel barely opens his eyes.

He puts a gun in Gabriel’s hand. “Not yet though, bro.”

I pull myself up, sitting on my knees now, holding my side, ready to watch the final execution. “Light his ass up,” I shout.

One of Gabriel’s other men extends his hand out to me and pulls me up.

“This is a team effort. We need you.”

I steady myself. The pain is agonizing, but killing him is worth it. The brother sees me slightly sway so he grabs at my arm to keep me from falling forward. With his support, I pull my gun out.

“Down on your fucking knees!” one of the brothers yells to Carmen.

“I get down on my knees for no one. I’ll die standing.”

“As you wish,” the other brother replies, and circles his finger in the air as a green light. We all move into a side-by-side formation. One of the brothers is still holding tight to Gabriel. He whispers something into his ear and Gabriel”s gun comes up just enough.

“Now!”

We let the bullets fire off into Carmen. Each one of us takes our revenge, letting our pain ring out while settling the score. When the mags are all empty, I stumble over and drop to my knees near his body. I take my two knives out of my pocket and plunge one into his cold dead heart and the other into his temple. One of the brothers, still unsatisfied, walks up, rears up the heel of his boot, and with brutal force, stomps down onto Carmen”s jaw. The sound of bones breaking fills the air. When it’s done and Carmen is no more, we all take a second to feel the weight lift. The men nod to each other and then Gabriel’s men silently carry him out. Nine rushes over with worry in her eyes and yanks off her hoodie. She lifts my shirt and applies pressure to the stab wound around my rib cage.

“Help me up,” I grunt.

I light up another cigarette as she pulls me up and leans me against the wall.

“You shouldn’t be smoking,” she says with concern.

I shake my head. “I’m bleeding out and you’re worried about me smoking.”

“I’m worried about you in general.”

“She cares.”

“Only on Tuesdays,” Nine sarcastically shoots back.

She’s standing there in her white tank, blue jeans, and black boots. Blood misted across her entire body, hair, and clothes. She’s still the most beautiful creature I have ever seen.

“Even if my death was to separate us, I would find a way back here to be with you.”

She puts her hand on my heart. I put my hand on hers.

“After today, I don’t ever want to wait for you to find a way back to me.”

Nine gently grabs the cigarette from my fingers and tosses it on the floor. She then takes my dirty, blood-stained hand in hers and we walk out. With my free hand, I hold her hoodie tight to my wound. We struggle but we manage to make our way downstairs and outside where Gabriel and his men are waiting for us. Everyone looks like a war veteran; bloody, bruised, and battered. One of the brothers is putting pressure on Gabriel”s chest wounds.

“If everyone is here, who is watching the kid?” I ask.

“He’s safe. He’s locked in the vehicle with a laptop, watching cartoons and eating doughnuts. I told him if he opens any door the car will explode,” one of the brothers says.

I stare at him, unsure of what to say. As a father, I want to choke him. As a killer, I understand fear tactics.

“Mission first, man. You know damn well the kid was a wrench thrown in. I did my best until my brother called for backup. I had to leave him, but I locked the boy in and gave him a knife for protection.”

He gave my young son a deadly, sharp knife. What the fuck? I turn my attention toward the vehicle in the distance, but I can’t see shit since the windows are blacked out. My face clearly shows concern. Nine looks at me and points to herself, as if to say she can go check on him. I nod.

“Gabriel, you hanging in there, buddy?” I say, as Nine stops in her tracks to listen to his response. Gabriel puts up a thumb. “We need to get you to the doctor”s house, now.”

“I’m fine. Burn it all,” Gabriel mutters. “We leave after we burn it.”

“You heard the man’s wishes,” I yell. The guys nod. “Did one of you get all the money out like we discussed?” They nod again. “Well, burn this mother fucker to the ground. My fucking side is bleeding out and my knee is shit. I’ll stay with Gabe. Nine, do you want to watch?”

“Do I want to watch them burn down the pits of hell? You fucking bet I do. Let me run over and check on the kid first. Someone toss me the keys.”

The taller brother takes the keys out of his pocket and throws them in her direction. She makes a quick dash down to the vehicle and shortly returns, out of breath. She places her hands on her knees in an attempt to get her breathing stabilized. I look at her, patiently waiting for an update.

“The good news is that he fell asleep in the backseat. The bad news is that he ate the whole bag of doughnuts. I confiscated the knife and covered him up with someone’s jacket. Everything is good.”

A sense of relief washes over me as we prepare to finalize this last step. I, Gabriel, and Nine watch as they pour gasoline all around the outside of this house. The brothers light a few matches and toss them around until the fires ignite. It doesn’t take long before the house is smoking and the flames begin to engulf the home. Feeling satisfied, we all turn at the same time to walk toward the vehicle.

“Do you hear that?” Gabriel mumbles. “There”s a noise behind us.”

None of us understand him. He’s injured badly and his words are garbled. He halts in place, and I think maybe it’s to rest. The brother holding him up stops, as do we all. Gabriel looks over his shoulder, first to Nine, who has leaned down to fix her boot, and then he looks past her to something in the far distance. He squints his eyes as I look back and forth, confused. Fear quickly fills his face.

“Nine!” Gabriel suddenly screams out.

He breaks free from the brother helping him and runs back, knocking Nine over just as the sound of a bullet whizzes by.

I pull out my gun to shoot but it”s empty and I have no extra mags. I drop to the ground and scurry toward Nine.

“Nine, are you shot?” I yell, afraid I won’t hear a response.

“No!” I vaguely hear her say from underneath Gabriel’s weight.

One of the brothers finally spots the shooter, pulls out his gun and kills the man with one shot.

“Asshole was hiding this whole time. I thought we got everyone,” I snap, as I stand up.

Gabriel lays like cement, still shielding Nine.

“Get up, man. It’s all good. We got him.”

We attempt to lift Gabriel who is pure dead weight. Nine is crying under him at this point. We roll Gabriel off her.

“Gabriel?!” I yell and try to move him.

I notice the bullet wound to his temple. My heart drops. Nine sits up and crawls over to him. She’s hysterical. This man took a bullet for her. He saved her life, not once, but twice already. I pray for a miracle and feel for a pulse but there is none. I turn and look at the brothers and shake my head. They all close their eyes, and with pained hearts, turn away. I stand up, run my hands down my face and take a second to process everything. In a state of frustration, I roar.

“Gabriel!” Nine cries out. “Get up! Get the fuck up!”

I grab her arm and pull her into a standing position. “Nine! He’s gone. He’s dead. Look at his fucking head.”

“No,” she sobs. Her legs become heavy and it takes everything in me at this point to lift, pull, and push her to the vehicle. “What about Gabriel? We can’t just leave him,” she cries.

“We have to go, Nine!” I yell, as I grab her face to hopefully snap her out of it. I’m in fear that someone else may be lurking and waiting for another clear shot at us. The brothers hesitate for a second, contemplating if they should grab Gabriel’s body but the sounds of the police and a firetruck are way too close.

“Fuck! Get in, now!” a brother shouts. “There”s no time to waste.”

We get everyone in the vehicle quickly and peel out, back tires kicking up dust as we get the hell out of there. The ride to Docs is brutal. It’s quiet and uncomfortable. We’re tired. We’re beaten. We’re sad. We’re leaving with one less soldier than we started with, but we’ve also picked up a new addition, a child. I glance back and look at my son sleeping and it sets in that when we go home, a huge adjustment must take place. I know nothing about him and he knows nothing about me. Nine has to raise a child that Natasha had by me, and Mya has to adapt to a new life with him. I briefly close my eyes and steady my thoughts back to now. I can’t think about tomorrow quite yet. Today is still happening and I’m ready to gift-wrap this bitch with love and ship her out. I lick my lips and lean forward to the two brothers who are seated in the front row. The third brother is seated to my right side, staring out the window.

“Brothers.” I take a second to swallow the lump in my throat. “I think Gabe would have been happy with what we did back there. This wasn’t possible without you guys. My apologies to your family for your sister’s death, as well as Gabe’s. This life, as you may know, is never fair and this doesn’t make it right, but I hope it helps. Gabriel’s cut of the money, keep it. Split it. Give it to your family. Whatever you want.”

The men remain quiet, but through the rear-view mirror, the driver stares at me and nods once. We continue driving in silence as I pull Nine into me. She’s still crying. I pull her in tighter and kiss the top of her head. She settles into my chest and buries her face into my shirt. She’s clinging onto me like she did that first time she saw death with The Savior’s men.

By the time we get back to the cabin, the mood is still flat. We quickly divide the money on the hood of the car, and then we respectfully part ways by shaking hands with Gabriel’s men, but not before they pull my sleeping son out of their vehicle and gently lay him in the porch swing. The kid doesn’t move a muscle.

Doc and his wife meet us on the porch as the brothers leave. I can see their eyes search the area for Gabriel. They look at me with concern. I shake my head at them. They seem to understand as they both stare at each other with a sense of sadness. The doc turns around for a brief moment to gather himself.

“Mya, is she good?” Nine asks.

“The baby is sleeping. No need to wake her,” says the wife, almost in irritation.

Nine nods and crosses her arms over her chest. “Thank you,” she mutters.

Doc turns around and motions me closer. I limp over slowly. He eyes me up and down, noticing that I’m holding Nine’s hoodie to my side. He looks over to her and back to me.

“You guys look like hell. You injured?”

“Stab wound to my side,” I reply.

“And the leg?” Doc asks.

“Collateral damage,” I say.

The wife looks back at Nine.

“And you. You okay?”

Nine remains quiet and stares down at the dirt, so instead, the wife looks over to me for answers.

“She’s good. Just tired. She needs rest. We both do. Tomorrow we’re gone, out of your hair for good, but tonight I need medical attention and we need to stay here, please.” I pull out a stack of cash and hold it up. “Also, we have a new addition,” I say, as I point to their porch swing. “This is my son.”

Doc and his wife turn around in shock, just now noticing him.

“I didn’t know you had a son,” Doc’s wife says, eyeing me.

“Neither did I,” I respond, running my hands down my face.

“Does the boy have a name?” Doc asks.

I look to Nine, embarrassed. I haven’t had time all night to even ask that question.

“Francisco,” Nine says, still looking down at the dirt.

“I see,” Doc says, staring at his wife.

At this point, all adrenaline has left my body. I lean over and groan, holding my side.

Doc’s wife walks over and slowly opens the screen door, waving me in.

“Let’s get those injuries looked at. Don’t want you to die on my porch,” Doc says.

Nine attempts to wake up Francisco. She gets him just partially awake enough that she can zombie-walk him inside. Nine then pushes him toward the couch, lays him down, and curls up next to him. I limp in behind them and the doctor motions me over to the kitchen table and instructs me to lay down so he can stitch me up. After a minute or two, Nine gets up from the couch.

“Francisco is out cold. I’m just going to check on Mya,” Nine says, standing over me now.

She looks down at the stab wound and back up to my face. She reaches for my hand but the doctor, now examining me, bats her away. She gives him a dirty look.

“Do you two want to make out first or shall I close this gaping wound? It’s only three-thirty in the morning. I have all night,” the doc says, clearly irritated with us at this point. Nine flips him off behind his back. “I saw that,” he says.

Nine smacks her teeth and then turns to go check on Mya. I grin at the doctor not making eye contact with me.

He pulls his medical bag out from under the table and sets it next to me.

“She’s only mean, sometimes,” I say.

“Aren’t all women,” Doc dryly replies, as he gloves up and starts to clean my wound.

“Some more than others,” I shoot back.

“You know, son, it’s not my place, but I figure you may not have too many more chances if you keep going like this.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I mean, even a cat only has nine lives,” Doc says.

“They have that reputation because of their ability to always land on their feet.”

“It’s called the ‘righting reflex’. Now take a deep breath in,” he says, as he begins to stitch me up. “And now exhale. Very good.”

I grunt through the first few pokes and pulls.

“Well, humans only have one life, but I still seem to be standing like a champ.”

“Not without assistance,” he reminds me.

The doctor pulls on the thread tightly and watches me flinch.

“Touché, Doc,” I smirk.

“Okay! You’ll need to take some strong antibiotics and continue with the pain pills, but that looks good,” Doc says, admiring his work. “Now, let’s look at that leg. Do you mind if I take these pants off? Although not ideal for you, it lets me examine the whole leg.”

I slowly sit up first, then I push myself into a standing position. I take the wad of cash out of my pocket and place it on the table for Doc. He doesn’t look at it once, but I know he sees it. I undo my pants and push them down to my ankles, shaking them off until they hit the floor. Every movement makes me want to vomit from the pain at this point. The doc notices my facial expression,

“I’ll give you a painkiller shot soon. Just hang in there. Can you move both feet and all toes for me?” Doc says.

He takes a look at the front and back of my leg before touching different areas, and then he gently moves my kneecap. Instantly, I hunch over and vomit on the floor. Not even a warning this time. I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand and start to apologize, but I’m cut off.

“Looks good. Pulse is great. Skin temperature is a little lower than normal but nothing to worry about. And your limb color seems fine. Nothing broken or fractured or you’d be flat on your back. I don’t have everything here a hospital would have to do an A-to-Z check, but I’d say you’ll be okay. In my experience, the legs never do well with major injuries. They cave like melted chocolate. In your case, just the unhealed wound causing some muscle or nerve damage that was aggravated by whatever happened tonight. The pain starts in the back where you got shot, and works its way up to the front of your kneecap, right?”

“Yeah,” I say, holding my stomach, afraid I’ll vomit again and bust these stitches.

“Does this area hurt?” he says, pushing down into the side of my leg. I shake my head. “Good,” he mutters.

I watch as he pulls a medicine vial and a long syringe out. He fills it up, flicks it a few times and stabs it where he was just touching me.

“Motherfucker!” I yell, as I grip the table.

“Okay! Goodnight and goodbye. This is where our paths split. I expect you all to be out before me and the missus come back from fishing. That’s noon, sharp. Help yourself to the kitchen but that’s where my assistance ends. Also, clean up that puke. Paper towels are next to the stove.”

“Thank you for everything,” I say.

Doc silently grabs the thick wad of cash from the table and walks off to his room. I gather myself and limp my broken ass to the kitchen to get those towels and clean up my mess. Bending down and bending over feels like my insides are about to explode. I miss the adrenaline coursing through my veins, numbing me out. Once done, I hobble toward the couch. I take in Francisco for a moment. Although he is a copy-and-paste version of me, I can also see a little of my brother in him as well, especially in his thicker eyebrow shape and slightly pointy ears. I adjust his blanket to cover his entire body and whisper goodnight to him. I look down at my watch and set an alarm for later this morning to get everyone up and out of here out of respect for Doc. He’s been nothing but generous with us, and I know we have overstayed our welcome and asked them for way too much.

I limp toward the bedroom where Nine and Mya are at and open the door. Both are cuddled up on the small bed, fast asleep. There’s a tight space for me to squeeze in next to them, but I need room to heal, and regardless, I don’t want to wake them up so I proceed to grab an odd-shaped pillow and crocheted blanket from the corner of the room and take to the floor. My overstimulated brain battles my body over sleep, so instead, I lay there staring into the darkness, waiting for them to agree so I can finally rest.

With my brain still spinning like a hamster on a wheel, I imagine tomorrow. When the sunlight hits the room soon, and the birds chirp and our eyes first open, I know one thing. It will be the first day of the rest of our lives without my past following me. We did it. We set Hunter’s ghost free. I smile in the dark, knowing his soul can rest. But then it hits me…in releasing his ghost, after everything, what secrets will we have to bury? How many ghosts will we have to lock up? The answer…too many to fucking count.