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Gage hesitates and looks between the two of us. I shrug, “I don’t see how the friend is important right now. Any of them for that matter. Just Ella. She’s the wildcard. Her friends are normal, geeky girls. She said Hunter has a boyfriend, so it’s her gay BFF which is cool, it doesn’t bother me and it shouldn’t bother you, Gage. The parents that adopted her are just that, her parents. Worry about Ella. Let Stone put what little time he has free into finding as much as he can about her. Maybe he’ll get lucky and find something about her past that she doesn’t know. Maybe it will help jog her memories.”
Gage stares for a minute longer before nodding. “Yeah, fine. Do that. Nyx is right, maybe we can help her—”
“Before you lovesick idiots get your panties in a twist, you should know that it is unlikely that long-term memory loss patientseverrecover their lost memories. There is a brief time after an injury that they may be restored, once the brain has healed, but after that, if it’s gone, it’s gone. It means that area of the brain was damaged. She’s clearly able to function normally and create new memories, so work with that. Don’t try to jog anything from her past because it could do more damage than good.” Stone says this all almost absentmindedly while inputting information and running a search on the computer. Dude is a motherfucking genius.
“We’ll just cross that bridge when we get to it. For now, do what you can and let me know if you find something on Ella, and thanks, man,” Gage murmurs. Stone doesn’t even look up, just smirks and nods. “Right, so moving on. Keep your ears on the ground, we’ll find the Remington kid and take care of him. Until then, let’s go find my brother and make sure he hasn’t blown The Vault up.”
Paint It Black-Venus
"I clocked two men posted outside of the bakery. One in the rear alley, one in the black Toyota," Stone murmurs as he climbs into the backseat of our 91' Chevy Lumina van. It's one of our discrete beaters we keep stashed away for jobs like this. Everyone knows all of the cars we usually drive, down to Madd and Stone's bikes. We can't be seen or noticed, we have to blend in. Even if it means damaging my soul by driving this piece of shit in the process.
Maddox grunts a sound of acknowledgment while tucking his Bowie VG10 into the holster on his thigh. He's completely decked out right now, as we all are. Weapons are hidden all over our bodies. Not because we're worried about taking down the two grunts Gus sent here to watch over Dolores or to make sure that Madd actually comes through, is more like it. No, we're decked to the nines because nothing with Gus is straightforward. If he says he sent two men, he probably means 10. Not to mention the ever-persistent threat of competing gangs, especially when we're in the South Bay like this.
Regardless, we'll be ready.
"You know you don't have to do this, brother. If we're taking them all out and taking her with us, there are no witnesses to report back to Gus. You don't need to handle this one on your own," I remind him, for the hundredth time since we've started these jobs. Maddox isalwaysthe one required to take the lives but we share in the burden as much as he will let us.
When Gus first started making Madd do his dirty work, he was just a kid. Gage refused to let Maddox be the one to take the life he was instructed to take. Instead, Gage did it for him. He wanted to spare his little brother's soul and protect him. Any of us would have done that for him. But somehow, despite the fact that there was no one else around for that kill, somehow Gus still found out that Maddox hadn't followed through with his assignment. That night, he tied a 13-year-old Maddox to a chair and forced him to watch as Gage was strung up and whipped bloody. Gage was only 17 at the time.
We we're all fuckin kids. Didn't matter to Gus though. Age is nothing but a weakness in his eyes.
Ever since, Madd rarely lets us take kills for him.
"I got it," he growls, sending a scathing look in my direction. I know not to take it personally. He's not himself when he's on a job.
"I know you do but we're here if you want us," I say carefully, making sure to saywantnotneedbecause that will only piss him off more. He looks back down to his lap and checks the silencer on his gun once more before jerking a nod and opening the passenger door. He wastes no time sliding out of the car and closing the door silently.
In his black sweatshirt with the hood pulled up, loose, worn jeans, and ratty converse, he fits in. His hands are in the front pocket of his hoodie where his gun is hidden. Right now, he's much like anyone else in this neighborhood. No one would know a trained killer is on the loose.
"I'm worried about him," Stone says softly, never taking his eyes off of our brother. I say nothing but I agree, I am also. How long can someone be expected to do this without it damaging them to the point of no return? Most of the time, I would say Maddox has well surpassed that point but recently, I've seen a different side of him. The side that I haven't seen since he was an unburdened kid with a future to still look forward to.
I don't have to speculate what orwhois causing that change in him, bringing our brother back to us. I already know. I just don't want to acknowledge thatshecould be having a positive impact on any of us.
Movement to my right catches my attention and before I know what I'm doing, I'm flying out of the car. I'm not sure if this guy is one of Gus's or what but the second he raises a gun and aims it at the back of Madd's unsuspecting head, I'm on him. My hands are wrapped around the man's neck before he even realizes someone is behind him. The dullpopof his bones lets me know that he won't be getting back up but I can't exactly leave him here on the sidewalk in front ofMama Garzas Panaderíanow can I? Fuck.
Seconds later, Stone is with me, lifting the guy silently and moving him to the alley. We drop his ass behind a dumpster and Stone bends down to check the guy over while I take in our surroundings, making sure the dude was alone.
"Nyx," Stone grunts, "look." Seeing no one else around us, I glance down and take in the Devil emblem on the guy's hipbone. Fuck, one of ours. Why and the hell would an LDS member attempt to take out the third in command? Meeting Stone's eyes, I see his filled with the same questions as my own.
Before I can open my mouth to hash out possible theories, a gunshot followed by a loud scream draws my attention. Knowing Madd is more than likely to use his knife and his gun had a silencer, I know that shot wasn't him. We both take off, hitting the back door of Dolores's bakery. It's locked, as it should be in this neighborhood. Taking a step back, I look over at Stone, who nods in response. In a practiced move, he raises his gun and shoots out the lock seconds before my foot smashes through the door, busting it down completely.
Moving like trained SEAL operatives, our guns raised and ears open, we barge through the back of the old building and come to a grinding halt when we take in the scene before us.
Maddox is attempting to peel a young woman, no more than 20 years old, off of a very dead Dolores Garza. The kitchen is covered in blood, bodies surround the three of them and the woman is wailing and screaming in agony. Stepping forward slowly, I bend down next to them and Maddox's wild and panicked gaze meets mine. He looks fucking rattled.
What the fuck happened in the last five minutes? Jesus fuck.
"Madd, you okay, brother? You injured?" I murmur gently, hoping that he's not too checked out to be able to speak. His eyes dart around the room like he has no idea where is his, before finally coming back to me. He swallows loudly but nods once. He turns his eyes back onto the woman who is holding Dolores with everything she's got and refusing to let go.
"Mamá," a soft voice cries from somewhere behind me. My head swivels, trying to find the child whose obviously been hidden somewhere.
"Fuck," Stone whispers as he bends down and crawls over to the rolling island cart in the middle of the space. My eyes follow his measured movements and it feels like the whole room is holding its breath. The woman is still too caught up in her grief to respond and is probably unaware of what's happening behind her. Stone reaches the cart and moves a potted plant that's sitting on the bottom shelf, revealing a tiny little boy, maybe three years old. "Hey, buddy, who is yourmamá?"
When he doesn't respond, just keeps his wide, tear-filled eyes on Stone, I try a different route."¿Dónde está tu mamá?" His big, black eyes fly to me and he appraises me for a moment before pointing at the bent-over and sobbing woman. I nod because I figured. "¿Estás herido?" Looking down at his exposed knee, I see a little scrape that was bleeding but has since stopped. He points to it and Stone gets a closer peek before giving me a thumbs up. "Estas bien. ¿Quieres ver a tu mamá?" The little boy nods vigorously before scrambling out from beneath the cart.
He runs over to his mom, not even paying the dead bodies any attention, and launches himself at his mom. I cringe. I should have seen that coming. His mother jumps to protect herself but thankfully, when she sees it's her son, she finally comes out of whatever kind of trance she's been in. "Gracias Jesús! Estaba tan asustada, te amo mi bebé."
While she continues to babble and checks her son over, I turn my attention to Maddox. Standing up, I grab onto his sleeve and pull him up with me before tugging him toward the back of the shop with Stone right behind us.
