“Oh God,” he moaned. “I need to throw up,” he mumbled, hanging his head waiting for his body to convulse or for the moment to pass.
“Blackie, focus, if you let that shit control you, then the poison wins,” I pleaded, having no fucking idea what I was saying. Could he really fight against drugs? I don’t know but I couldn’t watch him anymore. “Tell me your real name. Blackie is your club name, right?”
“Road name,” he corrected.
“Cut me some slack, I’m new to the old lady status,” I said, my voice shaking. “Tell me your name,” I repeated.
“Dominic,” he said finally.
“Dominic,” I gulped, twisting my face as he looked at me. “I like Blackie better,” I stated, and he smiled weakly at me.
“You’re good people, Reina,” he said. “We will get the fuck out of here,” he declared. He cleared his throat, swallowing, probably trying to rid the foul taste of his own vomit from his mouth. “Jimmy blew up my truck,” he informed me. “After I dropped you off I made a stop, must be when he planted the bomb,” he added.
“You don’t think he planted it while I had the truck?” I asked. I had taken Blackie’s truck to drive to Jack’s and it remained parked in his driveway for hours, anyone could’ve tampered with it and we wouldn’t have ever known.
“Jack’s house is covered with cameras, anyone watches him, and it’s obvious Jimmy’s been watching us, wouldn’t be stupid enough to plant a bomb with the camera rolling,” he explained.
“So where did you go?” I questioned as I flinched, my body aching from being in one position and my legs tingling.
“We being real with one another?” He asked.
“Yes,” I affirmed.
“You about over the whole Jack being Danny’s brother thing? I mean when you get the fuck out of here you’re not going to hold some sort of grudge over the man’s head are you?”
I squinted at him, confused as to what any of this had to do with where he was before the truck exploded but I played along.
“I’m over it,” I admitted. “I don’t like being lied to, but…” I shrugged my shoulders to the best of my ability, “I love him,” I glanced down at my lap and couldn’t help but wonder if I’d truly survive this. What I wouldn’t give to look him in the eye and tell him how I felt. I didn’t really get to do that. I blurted out I was in love with him but never looked into his dark eyes to whisper the three words we all liked to hear now and then.
“Hold onto that, what you feel for him, it’ll help,” he said.
I stared at him for a moment.
“What are you holding on to?” I asked hoarsely.
He looked away. “Which question do you want me to answer? Where I went after I dropped you off or what I’m holding on to?”
I studied him, even in the state he was in there was something he was focusing on, something he was holding onto or at least trying to. It wasn’t his deceased wife either because then he would just succumb to the fate that Jimmy had planned for him. I wondered if Blackie even realized that he was fighting against the path he originally thought he was meant to follow. There was someone pulling Blackie back, someone giving him purpose. Maybe he found his sunshine.
“Something tells me both questions have the same answer,” I said softly.
“Yeah,” he agreed. He diverted his eyes to the floor and I swear I saw the faintest hint of a smile but as I blinked his lips set into a thin line again. He turned his head, his eyes focusing on the leather cut that covered his shoulder. “Leather and lace,” he whispered.
The door opened, jarring the both of us and we turned our eyes to one of Jimmy’s men. He carried a leather pouch tucked under his arm and knelt in front of Blackie. I watched him unzip the bag and pull a vile out, followed by a syringe. He roughly grabbed Blackie’s outstretched arm and tied a band around it.
“Don’t,” I yelled. “Can’t you see he’s not a threat to you people? Why are you doing this to him?”
He ignored me and Blackie turned his head to me.
“It’s all good, Reina,” he struggled, biting the inside of his cheek. His eyes glazed over as he stared at me.
“Leather and lace,” I reminded him as the menace pushed the needle into his skin. I kept repeating the three words, chanting them almost, until the henchmen pulled the needle from his arm and tucked it into his leather pouch.
Blackie continued to stare at me with hooded eyes as the heroine swam through his veins.
“Leather and lace,” he slurred. The man rose to his feet and snickered before turning around and walking out the door. I heard the lock click and knew I’d always remember the sound, just like I’ll always remember Jimmy’s face. The same way I’d never forget Blackie’s eyes or the tears that fell down his cheeks when they closed. How do you forget Hell?
Chapter Twenty-Nine