“You didn’t have a fucking Colt AR 15 shooting at you!” I respond wide-eyed, not sure where the excitement was in that. He pats my shoulder and jogs toward the end of the car. He’s fucking nuts.
We head toward the sedan and Bobby pops the trunk.
Bull whistles eyeing the goods. Stepping around the back of the car I see what has him in awe. There are at least thirteen duffle bags sitting in the trunk.
Machete unzips one and fingers the cash. “Jesus,” he whispers.
“You weren’t lying.” Bull rubs his temple with his gun.
Grabbing one of the duffle bags I haul it from the trunk and push it into Bull’s chest. “You got your money, now we get my woman.”
“Bobby, empty these bags, and stuff them,” Bull orders.
“With what?” Bobby looks at him quizzically.
“Fuck if I care.”
“Oh, what about Monopoly money?” His eyes go bright, and I can’t help but scoff.
“Don’t do that,” Shadow laughs half serious.
“I’d love to see their reaction though,” Bobby chuckles.
“They won’t have time to react before they’re dead,” Bull informs casually. I like the way this man thinks. “We will get these filled to look like they’re packing the green, and then we’ll set up a drop. When Frank’s men leave for the pickup, you attack him.”
“He won’t be protected, I like it.” Felix nods approvingly, standing by my side.
“Call him, set the drop,” Bull insists.
Jillian
SWEAT TRICKLES DOWN MY BACK, my stomach growling with the need to eat. I’m so tired, mentally and physically.
“Zeek just called,” Frank states, walking into the room. “Just set up the drop, send our men and pick it up.”
Cross snorts. “I’ll send the boys to make sure they give us everything.”
“Send them all, I don’t want any surprises,” Frank insists.
“You, however, I’m going to have to set an example for my nephew, and that involves you I’m afraid. When he arrives, I’m going to take your life. I’m going to squeeze every single ounce of air out of your lungs until your heart slows down and your body begs for it. Then, and only then, when he realizes I am who controls his very existence will I end your filthy fucking life and that pig you’re carrying.”
Tears rip from my eyes as I sob, praying Zeek has a plan when he arrives. I want to be strong, but being tied to chair and having your life and unborn child’s threatened…all you can do is cry and hope.
“About that, Frank, I had an idea when you were away. What if we keep her, hide her away somewhere and let Zeek think we took her life. She’ll be ours until she gives birth. We can raise that bastard baby into the loyal leader we need. I know the place, and the people to put this kind of thing together.”
Frank nods, his lips twisting into approval. “See, that is why I need you by my side, Cross. Only you can think of that kind of shit. I love it.” He laughs like the Devil reincarnated. “He won’t even know she’s alive. She’ll be right under his nose the whole time, right up until she bears that child and we make it the ultimate weapon!”
A sound zips from the window, catching everyone’s attention. Suddenly a vase sitting on the counter explodes. Frank’s eyes furrow as he stands fully. “What the fuck was that?” Cross strides toward the broken vase and bends down.
“It’s a shell.” Their eyes widen in fear as he yells out. “SNIPER!” Cross’s voice booms through the suite just as another bullet crashes through the window and lodges into a cabinet. “Get the fuck down and take cover!” He continues to yell, another bullet whistles in passing, tearing into the Saran Wrap and my bicep.
Closing my eyes, I hold in a cry of pain. Blood oozes down my arm, warm and thick, burning like a bitch. I’ve got to get out of sight or I’m going to be hit again. Rocking myself I push the stool over, and I crash to the floor hard. My shoulder roaring with pain from the impact as I bite down on my lip to muffle my scream.
Everything goes silent, the only noise is my harsh breathing.
Finally, after a few seconds that feel like minutes, they stop. Everything is silent and still.
“We were set up, goddamn it!” Frank hollers.
“I told you just to kill that little prick.” Cross groans deeply as if he’s in pain. He must have been hit, too.
The doors to the suite are suddenly kicked in, and in steps Zeek and Lip. He has on dirty blue jeans and a black shirt that is taut along his chest. His chest is heaving, the look on his face resembling the damn Hulk. His eyes sweep over the suite before slowly landing on me.
My heart beats in slow motion, butterflies forming in the pit of my stomach. The corner of his mouth lifts into the smallest smirk. “Rookie,” he mouths, making my world come alive again.
I’m not going to die.
Felix and Lip step into the room, looking the scene over. A smile breaks through my frown, my chest warming. They’ll all here. To save me. The cop.