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My hand ricochets back from the gun going off, making me clutch the heavy metal tightly as the bullet penetrates through Franco’s skull. I don’t regret listening to Franco’s last breath; he killed my father. He was just a puppet for bigger schemes, a foot soldier to Jin.
This was for my father and Logan, the brother I always wanted. I will respect his wishes if he wants to make Franco look like a good guy, even when I disagree. I’d rather see him as the villain, a corrupt cop who deserved what he got. Anyone who has ever hurt a loved one would end up in the same position as Franco.
God. I’m so fucking tired. I need to sleep for a couple hours, or years.
“Clean this up and dispose of the bodies. You know what to do,” Nicky demands, his eyes as cold as steel as he addresses his Triad.
His men still haven't removed their eyes from the ground, waiting on command with nervous gulps. I’d be nervous and curious about what my fate holds for me. None of these men have ever stood up for Nicky or lent a helpinghand. But I get it. It’s a fucking obey-or-be-killed kind of world sometimes. I’m a hard ass on my men because I have to be if I want them to respect me and follow orders.
“Where did my buttercup get off to?” Tey asks, searching the room with furrowed brows as he fidgets in place.
“What?” I almost shout, clearing my throat to calm down, even though my palms start to sweat when I can’t find her as I spin in a circle, looking in every direction.
The Triad bows deeply and straightens up to bow over Nicky’s outstretched hand to place a kiss on the gold ring on his index finger.
“Has anyone seen her?” Dalton growls out, the noise more beast than man.
Each Triad member shakes their heads and silently gets to work, mostly trying to stay invisible as they pick up Franco’s body.
More men get up to leave, and some return with a mop and buckets to sweep up the dark liquid of blood on the mats.
“She wouldn’t leave us here, not after that. Dom, you're with me. Search the building. Tey, stay here with them.” Logan lifts his chin at Nicky and Nicola, but that’s not the only reason.
Logan turns his head slightly to look at me with a tilt of his chin towards the stairway with an undisturbed expression, yet I can see the hints of pain, sorrow, anger, and worry all in a rapid flash of his light eyes.
“We’ll be back. Dalton, call in some reinforcements and get them to take Nicola to see her boyfriend.” I order quickly over my shoulder, following Logan through the open doorway.
“Is he…” Nicola whimpers, her question going unspoken, but Nicky understands.
“He’ll be okay. He’s just really banged up, but the morphine should help big time,” Nicky reassures Nicola, his voice going quiet as his sister sobs in his arms.
“Don’t fear, little tiger. Evan is with Doc, and he’ll make sure your boyfriend’s face stays pretty. He’s in good hands,” Dalton promises, and I can almost hear him wink from the top of the stairwell.
The moment the door bangs shut behind us, Logan and I are jogging down the three floors without trying to kill ourselves by tripping.
“She has to be around her somewhere.” I can’t tell if Logan is talking to me or trying to convince himself.
I already know what we will find on the ground, or lack thereof. Tillie would never abandon us, especially when we needed her the most. My gut twists, my pulse going frantic with fear that she’s gone.
“What the fuck!” Logan exclaims, drawing in a sharp breath at what lies in a heap at the glass front doors.
“Who is that- Jesus Christ—it's Rig!” Logan drops to his knees with a loud crack of his bones and frantic, worried hands flailing everything.
“Take a deep breath. She knows you’d move heaven and hell for her, and that includes making decisions for her old man.” I inhale deeply and exhale until his breathing gets under control from my copied movements.
“This is going to break her. Is he…?” Logan asks, running a hand through his thick hair with shaky hands.
“He’ll live,” I add with conviction in my voice, even though I don’t fucking know because Rig looks dead except for the faint flutter of his pulse on his neck.
Thank God for fucking small ass miracles. If Tillie lost Rig, she’d lose a piece of herself, even though she’s thestrongest woman I know. It would break her, a small chunk of the armor she wears daily.
“Cruz has her,” Logan says in a dead voice. The lack of emotion lets me know he is considering the worst-case scenario, but I can’t blame him.
I’m doing the same thing.
I grab my cell and hit the speed dial until my street runner answers on the second ring.
“Dom. What’s up, Esa?” Gabriel asks all business, which is why I trust him to run the supplies when I’m out of theOffice.
