“It’s all right, baby,” I tell her. “It’ll all be okay. Just tell me what happened.”
“I was turning in my key and saying goodbye to Loretta,” Alina says. Her eyes are red and swollen as she looks up at me. She’s obviously terrified. “I’d just picked up the last of my mail when I saw Teto. I was going to say hello to him and let him know what was going on, but he was talking to someone else.”
“What did the guy look like?”
“Tall and blond,” she says. “He was wearing a suit and dark glasses. I thought it was a little weird because it’s so overcast today.”
I nod. It’s very possible the man she described is Joshua Taylor. My heart beats faster. Could he really be right in this area? It’s the first lead I’ve had on his location, even if it is a rather flimsy one.
“Go on.”
“I got closer, and I heard them say your name.” She rushes her words together as she speaks, and I can barely understand her. She clings to my shirt with a death grip that whitens her knuckles. “I stopped in the doorway and listened. The guy was asking if Teto had seen you, and he said you used to come around, but now you had…well, you had me now, so he hadn’t seen you. The other guy…he said you’d gone too far, and that you weren’t going to be running things much longer. He wanted Teto’s help getting to you, and he gave him a large envelope.”
She stops and takes a big breath.
“He’s going to try to kill you, Evan!”
“It’s all right,” I say. “I’m here, and I’m fine. Just tell me what happened next.”
“I followed them,” she says. “I didn’t want Teto to hear my voice, so I tried to text you, but you didn’t answer. I followed them to the bus stop. They didn’t see me get on with them, but I still couldn’t call you. They got off around the corner.”
She takes another deep breath and looks over my shoulder at the door.
“Are they still around here?” I ask.
“I don’t know,” she says. “I thought Teto might have seen me, which is why I ducked in here.”
The bell on the door rings, and Alina jumps. It’s Eddie-boy.
“He’s with me,” I say as I wave him over and tell him what Alina just told me.
“It has to be Taylor.”
Eddie-boy nods in agreement.
“You think he’d try something out in the open?”
“No idea. I can’t imagine he’d do something here in public though.”
I grab my phone out of my pocket and call Jonathan. He’s still twenty minutes away from us.
“Take Alina back to your place,” I tell Eddie-boy. “I don’t want her near my apartment until I catch up with these guys.”
“No, Evan!” Alina starts to protest, but I cup her face in my hands and silence her.
“This is my business,” I tell her. “You don’t question me on this. You just do what I tell you. You’re going with Eddie-boy where you’ll be safe. Jonathan is on his way here, and I need you out of the way. Capisce?”
She nods slowly as a tear drips from the corner of her eye. She’s still gripping my shirt, and I have to pry her fingers from the fabric before I can wipe the tears away and hand her over to Eddie-boy.
As they walk out of the store, a text from Jonathan arrives. He says he’s stuck behind an accident on Lake Shore Drive.
“Fucking awesome.”
I go over the story Alina told me as I walk back out to the street and start looking around for obvious meeting spots. The little restaurants and bars in the area don’t seem ideal, so I walk a couple of blocks further down to the bus stop where Alina last saw Teto and the blond guy.
That creepy being-watched feeling crawls through my skin. I look all around me, trying to decide if the feeling is based on instinct or paranoia. If Teto and Taylor are looking for me, they are more likely to be heading for my apartment, but why get off the bus here? There is a much closer stop to my building.
They must be meeting someone else, but who? Junko? Omarie? Is Landon Stark going to suddenly appear out of the woodwork after his post-tournament disappearance?
I pull out my phone and call Bastian.
“What’s up, bro?” he says with a laugh.
“That’s what I’m trying to figure out,” I tell him. “Do you have any contact with Landon Stark?”
He’s quiet for a moment.
“Not for some time,” he finally says. “I’ve seen him once since the tournament, and it wasn’t a very pleasant encounter. As far as I know, he moved out of the country. I don’t think he even speaks with anyone in Seattle anymore.”
“Any chance he’s here in Chicago?”
“None,” Bastian says. “He cut his losses and got out of the business. Why?”
“One of his former associates is stalking me.”
“Which one?”
“Joshua Taylor.”
“Oh, yeah? I know him.”
“What do you know?”
“He used to train with me,” Bastian tells me. “If you ask me, he wasn’t all that great at it or anything, but he tried. Landon kept him around as a backup, but he didn’t like him much. Thought he was too cocky. Josh always wanted a bigger cut, but he just wasn’t worth it, ya know?”
“Yeah, I know the type.”
“He had a brother, too, but I think he got killed or something.”
“I heard that as well.” I grin to myself but don’t say anything more about it.
“If you’re thinking Landon is working with Josh Taylor, I’d say no. I didn’t like the guy.”
“Thanks a lot for the intel,” I say. “I gotta run.”
“So, you only going to call when you need fucking information?” Bastian asks.
“You’ve never called me at all.”
“Touché,” he says with a laugh.
“So, how’s the fam?”
“Ha! Nah, you don’t get off that easy. Next time we talk, it better be personal.”
“It’s always personal.”
“Later, bro.”
“Later.” I hang up and fit his information into what I already know about Taylor.
He’s greedy—that much is obvious. Since he was working with Beni, he must have had his eye on more of Rinaldo’s business profits. Beni must have promised him a stake in the business, based on the assumption that Beni would marry Lucia and end up in control. When that didn’t happen, and Beni died for his betrayal, Taylor must have resorted to another plan.
But what is the plan? Just kill me? Does he think it will be that easy to take over?
I feel like I’m missing something. A critical element that changes the entire physical structure of the whole operation hasn’t surfaced in my mind. Jonathan said someone else from inside had to have been working with Beni, and he was right—Cody. But was there someone else?
Who’s left at this point? Not very many, that’s for sure.
A text from Eddie tells me that he and Alina have arrived at his place and that he’s going to come back my way now that she’s safe. Another from Jonathan says he’s close to my location.
I decide to just hang and wait for them at this point. I’m going to need a little strategic help and surveillance from Jonathan and Eddie-boy if I have any hope of finding Taylor. I move up next to the entrance of an alley and pull out a smoke.
As I glance down the alley, I recognize the worn coat on the figure with his arm over his head and some newspapers under him, lying near a dumpster. I shake my head and smile slightly as I walk up to him. I’m near the hotel where I got the retired vet a room before. The spring rain isn’t nearly as bad as the winter cold, but I have a few minutes, and I might as well set him up again.
“Hey, Don!” I call out as I approach, but he doesn’t move. An overturned bottle of cheap booze is near him, and I can smell the distinct odor of alcohol in the alley over the ripe smell from the dumpster. “Wake up, dude. Let’s get you something to eat.”
He doesn’t respond.
“Don?”
r /> I crouch and shake his shoulder as the stench of urine hits me square in the face. His head flops to one side, and his eyes stare blankly. His skin is cold to the touch.
“Ah, fuck!” I close my eyes as my throat seizes up on me. I shake my head a moment to clear it, and then turn Don’s body over on his back.
There’s blood all over him from a gunshot wound to the chest.
“And Josh thought you were too smart for all of this.”
I startle at the sound of a female voice from the far side of the alley. Becca steps out of the shadows with a Glock pointed in my face.
I turn quickly and start to grab for my gun.
“Don’t do it.” Her warning stops me. “You may be good, but this isn’t the Old West, and I’ve already drawn my weapon.”
“What the fuck, Becca?”
“Everything was all set with Beni taking the reins, and you had to fuck that up by not letting Rinaldo bleed out there on the street. Then there was all that hospital nonsense. I figured those new accounts meant you were being given the business, but I wasn’t expecting you to act so quickly. And killing Paulie, too? You are a psychopath. It’s time to put you down.”
From behind Becca, Joshua Taylor appears. He’s grinning like a cat with a defenseless bird in its mouth.
“Always use a girl as bait,” he says. “Works every time.”
Motherfucker.
With the barrel of a gun pointed directly at me, I feel my body calm all over. Combat instinct sets in, and the dead vet at my feet is forgotten. There is nothing but me and the bullet inside the chamber of Becca’s gun.
My own piece is holstered at my side, but Becca and Joshua know that. Trying to reach for it isn’t going to work. I’m at a serious disadvantage, and I am going to have to come up with something clever and unexpected if I am to have any chance at all.
“Biting the hand that feeds you, Rebecca?”
She glares at me.
“I’ve been much better fed since teaming up with Josh. I worked for years in that fucking club for shit even though I was the one pulling all the hours. That whole ‘step up’ Rinaldo promised me when I took over his books was a load of shit. But I fixed that myself, didn’t I?”
“You didn’t learn anything when I took care of Justin, did you?”
I watch Joshua carefully as I say the words. His eyes narrow, and his mouth opens just enough to show his teeth. I still don’t have a plan, but I want him riled up. He’s more likely to make a mistake if he’s not thinking clearly. A mistake is my only chance.
Joshua folds his arms over his chest and glares at me.
“Payback is a bitch, Arden,” he says. “Once you’re out of the picture, I’ll be handling all that money of yours. While I’m at it, I’ll be shoving my cock in that little piece of ass you followed here.”
I let the words flow over me, refusing to envision the meaning behind them. If I’m to have a chance at this game of willpower, I can’t let anything he says get to me.
“Justin screamed like a little girl, you know,” I tell him. “Begged like a whore. ‘Don’t hurt me! Don’t hurt me, Mr. Arden!’”
I laugh and shake my head but never move my eyes from the gun in Becca’s hand.
“We’re done with this asshole,” Joshua says. “Just fucking shoot him already.”
Apparently, he’s not interested in this game. I tense, watching Becca’s shoulder, arm, and hand for movement. I have nowhere to go except down to the ground, and being in a prone position isn’t going to help my chances. It will just make me an easier target.
“Evan!”
I hear Jonathan’s voice near the entrance to the alley, but I don’t turn to look at him. I keep my eyes on Becca and wait for that critical second when she’s distracted by the voice. She glares in Jonathan’s direction, and I make my move.
Crouching, I race for her, wrap my arms around her midsection, and take her to the ground. The gun goes off twice, and bits of brick from the side of the building rain down on us. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see Jonathan scuffling with Taylor.
Becca is a lot stronger than she looks. I try to get the gun from her hand, but she’s holding onto it tightly as she brings her knee up into my stomach over and over again. I keep my hold on her wrist as I punch her face, but she still doesn’t release the weapon.
She grabs my face with the hand not holding the gun and digs her finger into my eye as she screams and curses at me. I turn my head to the right to get her finger away and feel cold metal on the side of my face. My arm is bent at an awkward angle, and I can’t move her wrist. There is no time to try another tactic.
Oh, fuck.
“LT!”
I never saw Eddie-boy enter the alley, but he is suddenly at my side. I feel him shove my shoulder with all his strength.
The gun goes off.
I hear the sound of my head hitting the brick wall behind me right before I slump to the ground. I drop into a pool of Don’s blood, and the smear on my forearm looks oddly like the stripes of an American flag. I feel compelled to turn my arm to get a better look at the pattern is strong, but I can’t move.
I’ve been shot.
The whole idea is puzzling. All that time I spent in combat zones, and I was never shot. All those people who have found themselves at the wrong end of my gun, and I’ve never been shot. I can’t even count the number of times someone has held up a gun and pointed it in my direction, but never once has a bullet entered my body.
I’m not even sure where I’ve been hit.
I hear Eddie-boy yelling.
I hear Becca screaming.
I feel nothing.
I really think I might need some rest now.
Chapter 23—Miraculous Awakening
Hums and beeps.
My ass hurts and so do my shoulders, but the throbbing in my head mutes most of the other pain. The very idea of opening my eyes makes the pounding ten times worse. The bed I’m on is uncomfortable as if the pillow is rolled up behind my neck in a lumpy ball.
There are voices, but they are muffled as if the speaker is trying to talk into a pillow.
My head continues to throb terribly, and I let myself slip back toward blackness. Time is pretty irrelevant. There’s just the dichotomy between bright pain and dark numbness. I choose the dark.
Disorientation when I wake is a fairly normal feeling. This still feels different.
There’s always whatever dream I’ve been having right at the very surface of my thoughts. There is a moment when I’m not sure if I’m awake, and reality is cloudy. For a while, the dream continues in my head even as my surroundings change.
I’m stiff and sore. I had been dreaming about the hole, during the time when the special ops troops came in and pulled me out. I couldn’t walk on my own because I had been curled up in the same position for so long, and my leg muscles had atrophied.
I crack one eye open.
I’m in a hospital room, hooked up to various monitors, and there’s an IV tube running into my hand. My nose itches, and I realize there’s one of those oxygen tubes taped to it. I open my eyes a little wider. The room is fairly dark. The only light comes from a dim table lamp near the door.
What the fuck am I doing here?
The monitor beside me starts blinking red, matching my heart rate as it starts to beat faster. There’s no one in the room, and when I try to sit up, my aching muscles protest.
The light brightens suddenly, and I squint against the glare. A woman in lime green scrubs enters and moves quickly to my side. She leans over, and I feel her hand brush my arm.
“Mr. Arden?” The sound is muffled, and I think there might be something covering my ear. “I’m Kim, the night nurse. Can you speak?”
I find her question ridiculous until I realize that I can’t utter a word. My mouth is parched, and the corners of my lips are dry and cracked. It hurts just to open my mouth.
“Let me get you some water,” she says.
A moment later, th
ere’s a straw at my lips. I suck just a bit of water into my mouth before I start coughing. She places her hand on the back of my neck, and I manage to get some down.
“Try again,” she says.
“What…why…?” I can only croak.
“Hang in there for a minute,” Kim says. She reaches over and taps a button beside the bed. “I’ll get the doctor for you.”
A small, dark-haired woman in a white doctor’s coat arrives within seconds. She grabs a clipboard from the end of my bed and sits down on a rolling stool next to me.
“Mr. Arden, my name is Doctor Reiss. I’ve been taking care of you while you have been here. I’m going to have Kim take your vitals, and then we’ll see if you can answer a few questions for me, okay?”
“Yeah.” The air from my lungs hurts my throat.
“Can you tell me the last thing you remember?”
It takes a few tries before I can form coherent words. After a few more sips of water, I can speak.
“I just woke up. What am I doing here?”
“What do you remember from before you woke up?”
I get another drink to wet my throat and try to remember.
“They had me in a hole.” I close my eyes. It hurts to have them open. I know my answer isn’t right—it’s not what she’s looking to hear, but it’s the only thing that comes to mind.
“A hole?” Dr. Reiss reaches over and adjusts a tube at my arm. “Can you tell me more about that?”
“Sand…um…” I try to focus. I know I’m not saying the right words, but everything in my head is jumbled up. The hole—that’s not real. It was just something in my head. I finally find the right word. “It was a dream.”
“You were dreaming about a hole?”
“Yeah.”
“Can you think back to what you remember before you were dreaming?”
Memories come and go, and not all in an order that makes sense. I remember standing in the rain, watching the priest pray over Rinaldo’s casket. Another hole comes to mind, and I watch a woman’s body as I shove it into the pit with the toe of my boot. I remember waking up in a submarine, and I’m unable to get warm. I remember Alina and the scent of lavender on her skin.
Alina. She went to give her key back to her landlord. I was in my apartment…