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“You’re going to die,” Pryo promised with quiet authority but Benton had the upper hand and any hope Angel had was quickly deflating. They were outnumbered. If bullets started flying, the odds were Pyro would end up dead and she couldn’t handle the thought.
“Put your gun on the ground,” the cop drawled, gesturing to Pyro. “I know you came in packing, so drop it or else I’ll drop you right now.”
Pyro removed his gun and tossed it to the ground, his gaze never leaving Benton. If looks could kill, Benton would’ve died a million times over. “So if Angel held up her end of the deal…what about you? Where’s the kid? And for that matter, where’s Jazzy?”
“Jazzy?” Benton seemed puzzled. “What the hell would you know about Jazzy unless someone has been running her mouth when she shouldn’t?” He jabbed the knife, breaking the skin and she yelped, stiffening as he kept up the pressure.
“Don’t you go worrying about things that are none of your concern, asshole,” the cop warned him, walking toward him slowly while his buddies kept their guns on the target. “This is going to be nice and easy. Don’t go trying to be the hero.”
Pyro turned to the cop with a subtle sneer. “When did you go from protecting the people to stealing kids to make a profit.”
The man’s florid face flushed and he glared. “Shut the fuck up, felon before I end your miserable life right here. All I gotta say is you came at me and bam! Justifiable.”
“Let me take a guess at how this went down. Secretly, you’ve always had a taste for kids and then when you became a cop, you discovered you could use that authority to get what you craved but it was too risky. Then you discovered, along with the help of this fuck, you could not only get what you wanted but get paid, too. Best of both worlds, right?”
“Something like that,” the cop leered with a sick smile. “Aren’t you the smart one?”
“Shut up, Crawford,” Benton said sharply. “Just cuff him and take him away.”
“Yeah, about that…you’re not the only one who came prepared,” Pyro said with a dark smile. “Think about it. Why would I trust a man who peddles in kids? Something’s not right in the head for someone like that,” he tapped his forehead lightly. “So, yeah, I didn’t take any chances. You brought guns…well, so did I.”
Members of both motorcycle clubs emerged from every angle, each pointing a firearm at the small group and wearing masks to hide their identity. The cops shifted nervously, looking to their ringleader.
“Crawford, shit’s going south real fast,” one of the cops said, his gaze darting. “I’m not dying over this.”
“Stand your ground. We’re still cops,” Crawford barked but he’d begun to sweat. “Any bullet fired will leave behind trace that can be followed right back to your fucking houses. You hear me?” he shouted at the stony-faced gang members. “No mask is going to protect you.”
“True but you’ll be dead. So who’s to say who will come out of that bloodbath alive?”
Crawford looked to Benton. “This is your fucking fault. You said you had it handled!”
“An unfortunate hiccup,” Benton agreed with a narrowed stare. “It would seem you’re on your own. I have what I came for.” He began walking backward, dragging Angel. “Good luck with that.” Pyro took a step toward them but Benton warned him off. “Come one step closer and I’ll gut her like a pig. Walk away and forget about her. She’s nothing but trouble anyway.”
Angel whimpered, scared out of her mind. Benton was only using her for leverage. She had no real value. All he wanted was Mila.
A shot rang out in the darkness as someone got itchy fingers and Pyro dove for cover as bullets started flying.
“Pyro!”
The scream died in her throat as Benton shoved the knife into her side, throwing her down as she gasped with blinding pain. She grasped with desperation onto his pant leg, tripping him up as he attempted to run to his car and held on for dear life even as blood gushed from the wound.
“Let go, you fucking bitch,” he growled, kicking at her.
“Give me my baby,” she cried, tears streaming down her cheeks, crazed with panic that if Benton managed to get into his car, Mila was gone forever. Her fingernails tore but she gripped harder, refusing to let go.
Benton reached down and grabbed a handful of her hair, wrenching her head back. “You were always more trouble than you were worth,” he muttered, pulling his arm back to stab her again but just as the knife gleamed in the moonlight in a downward arc, Benton jerked and fell to the ground, a bullet hole sizzling in his forehead. She turned wildly to see Pyro running toward them, a smoking gun in his hand.
“Angel!” he shouted when he saw the blood. “Where are you hurt?”
Angel tried climbing to her feet but her legs gave out on her. “Check the car,” she gasped when Pyro tried to discern where the blood was coming from. “Please,” she cried, “find her! She’s just a baby!”
Pyro caught between saving Angel and finding her baby, looked unhappy with leaving Angel but sprinted to the car and popped open the backseat door. Angel’s vision dimmed and the last thing she saw was Pyro pulling a crying Mila from the backseat. She’s safe…thank you, God.
Angel drifted into nothingness, her last thought one of sweet relief.
Pyro.
***
Pyro handed off the baby to Bronx who’d been hot on his heels after he’d split after Benton and Pyro dropped to his knees at Angel’s side. “Fuck! She’s losing a lot of blood,” he said, gently but urgently checking where the knife had punctured. “She needs a hospital.”
Bronx nodded. “You go. Take her in. I’ll take Mila out of here. I promise, nothing will happen to Angel’s daughter. Go.”
Pyro didn’t wait and scooped Angel into his arms, carrying her to his Blazer. The melee had dispersed and somehow by the grace of God, no one had been killed, though Crawford had taken a bullet to the leg and limped off with his cronies. Pyro would deal with him later. Right now all that mattered was Angel.
“Don’t die on me, baby,” he said, putting her into the Blazer and climbing in. He throttled the engine and took off in a spray of gravel and dirt toward the hospital. “Why didn’t you just tell me the truth? This could’ve went down a whole other way.”
He was talking to himself. Angel was out of it but his brain was in a high speed chase, hitting speed bumps with every new thought. She hadn’t trusted him with the truth. How could she? He’d let her down before. Ashley had been killed because of him. Angel hadn’t been able to take the chance with her daughter that he might fail.
Angel was a mother. Who was the father? Jealousy, inappropriate as it was, rose to burn his throat. He pushed away the feeling and focused on the road.
He threw the Blazer in park and carried Angel into the emergency room, shouting for help as he went. Doctors and nurses came running and he gently put Angel on an awaiting gurney.
“What happened?” the doctor asked, making quick assessment of Angel’s condition.
“This guy, Benton Algiers, he stabbed her. I found her like this.” The best lie was a partial truth. He left out the part where he put a bullet in Benton’s face. “Is she going to be okay?”
“Stab wound to the left side, possibly hitting the kidney. Prep OR 2 STAT.” To Pyro, he said, “We’ll take it from here.”
The hardest thing was watching them wheel Angel down the hall to disappear behind a swinging door. Angel might die. He scrubbed his face, unable to face the reality that he might’ve inadvertently gotten both Ashley and her sister killed. It was too much. Everything he came into contact with was destroyed, one way or another. Focus on what you can do about it, a voice told him. He nodded to the internal voice, not caring if he looked like a crazy person.
He had a mess to clean up. There was no way he was going to let his friends or club members take any heat for this.
With one final look down the empty corridor, he did a deliberate about face and walked out the sliding doors.
/> -15-
Angel floated through nothingness and somehow knew she was between places. Maybe it was her subconscious messing with her or maybe she was dying, but either way, it wasn’t so bad. At least nothing hurt any longer. It would be so easy to stay in this place, whatever it was.
Wasn’t there supposed to be a movie playing the highlights of your life? That would be a pretty short movie, she thought wryly.
“Being your guardian angel is exhausting.”
Angel searched for the voice and her eyes welled when she caught sight of her sister, Ashley, looking as pretty as when she was alive.
“This isn’t real but I don’t care,” she whispered, going to Ashley and hugging her tightly. “I don’t care if this is all a figment of my dying brain or if I’m losing my mind. I’ve missed you so much.”
Ashley, her blond hair shining, hugged her tightly. “It’s been a rough couple of years, for sure. And now you’re in the hospital, bleeding like a stuck hog. This isn’t a great endorsement for my skills.”
Angel laughed and wiped tears away. “It’s not your fault. I just have a knack for seeking out the worst case scenario and putting into play. You did a great job of taking care of me when you were alive.”
Ashley sighed. “I tried my best but I was just a kid, too. You know, in hindsight, I probably shouldn’t have given into the temptation of trying to tame a bad boy. But Pyro…well, as you know, he’s pretty irresistible.”
Angel’s cheeks heated. Oh God. “This is awkward. If this is my dream, shouldn’t I be able to filter out the excruciatingly embarrassing moments of when your sister makes reference to the man you’ve both slept with?”
