Rocco nods, his eyes squeezed shut. Jaw set, he opens his eyes and winks at me. “Fuck yeah. I’m no pussy. And I don’t plan on being wheeled out of here on a gurney. Let’s go.”
I stay close to him just in case his body gives out before his mouth utters a warning. One of Viktor’s guys approaches and snakes an arm around Rocco to support him. A loud siren blares out into the otherwise still air. “Cops. We’ve gotta get out of here now.”
A few steps later, we load Rocco and Shaye into Rocco’s car. “Viktor, thanks for tonight. You and your guys really saved our asses.”
“It was worth it to see that motherfucker’s head blown off. You did good work.” Viktor opens the passenger door of the truck. “I’ll be around. But now, we leave because I can’t do your business any good if I’m rotting in some shithole prison waiting to be deported.”
“Wait.” I toss him my car keys. A two-seater ain’t getting us to the doc. “Get it out of here. I’ll find you tomorrow.”
He nods and opens the driver’s side door, sliding into the bucket seat. The truck’s engine roars to life next to my R8, and I watch the taillights from both vehicles shrink until blackness consumes my line of sight. I can see now that it’s impossible to be successful without trusting those around you. I’ve always felt like people have had my back because of who my father and grandfather are. But tonight, I was on my own against an enemy with a grudge and a shit-ton of firepower, and who I’m related to didn’t amount to crap. I came here to settle a score, to save face, and get my girl. I may not have whacked anyone before tonight, but I came in strong and left stronger with the unlikeliest of allies.
“Nico, get the fuck into the car so Rocco doesn’t die on the way.”
I slide into the backseat, resting Shaye’s head on my lap, while Rocco writhes around in the front with Max at the wheel.
“You’re the fucking snitch,” he grumbles. “And I’m the one who gets shot. Where’s the justice?”
“Stop your bullshit whining. Consider yourself lucky that nobody’s put a bullet in your brain yet.” Max zooms out of the parking lot and maneuvers the car down a service road with only seconds to spare before the sirens pierced the night air in our wake. He pulls over to the side of the road behind a group of trees and shuts off the engine and the lights. About half a dozen cop cars peel around a corner and tear down the street in the direction of the warehouse. Talk about a night of dodging bullets, literally and figuratively.
When the lights dim to the point that we know we’re safe from the law, Max starts the car and pulls out into the road, heading in the opposite direction toward the turnpike. Doc has a place in Edgewater, and about twenty minutes later, we’re driving around the back of the building and heading down to the basement parking garage where the service elevators ensure the utmost discretion for shuttling bloody bodies.
Max rolls to a stop right next to the elevator bank, gets out and presses the Up button. There’s no doorman down here, no security cameras to fear. Just a plain metal box that’ll transport us to the one place we can go for medical attention without getting hammered by the cops. He pulls open the back door and Shaye stirs, her eyes fluttering open.
“Where are we?” she murmurs.
I stroke her hair. “We’re getting help for you and Rocco.”
Max leans in and wraps his arms around her waist. “Come on, sis. Let me get you out, okay?”
“Max, hang on to her, okay?” I jump out of the back and yank open the passenger side door. “Come on, Rocco. You’re almost there.”
He lets out a yelp, and I clap a hand over his mouth. “Not here, buddy. Zip it until we’re upstairs.”
I snake an arm under his and hoist him up, guiding him to the elevator door, now open and waiting for us. Shaye leans against Max, her eyes drooping closed again. I still can’t believe what went down tonight and how we ever got out of it.
But we fucking did.
The elevator creeps up to the tenth floor and opens right into the doc’s makeshift waiting room.
Tony jumps when the elevator dings and runs over to Shaye, but not before he silently wishes instant death upon me from across the room. Actually, it may not have been silent. I think my ears are still numb right now from the gunshots, along with every other extremity, that is. Yes, even that one, for the first time in my life.
After getting Rocco into one of the exam rooms with Doc’s help, Max and I guide Shaye into the other room and gently lay her on the gurney. Her eyes are glassy and unfocused, and a sharp pang in my chest alerts me to the fact that nobody knows how far things have gotten with us. Well, except for Max, and I’m sure he’ll have quite a time wiping those images from his memory. I squeeze her hand, and her lips curl upward in response.
“I love you,” I mouth, careful not to make any suspicious sounds.
Max rolls his eyes and mouths a few choice words of his own at me.
“How the fuck did this happen?” Tony barges into the room with my dad right behind him. He narrows his eyes at me, and I debate which lie to let roll off my tongue since the reality of me sleeping with his daughter not one hour before the kidnapping doesn’t seem to be my best shot at surviving this line of questioning.
Fortunately, I don’t have to say a word because Max offers the explanation. And it’s a damn good one, if I say so myself. “Dad, Shaye’s tire caught a flat when she was coming home from the city. She pulled off the turnpike and got stuck in a pothole. She called me for help, and that’s when they grabbed her.” He shrugs. “They must have been looking to bait me, so when I found out Cap had her, I called Nico and Rocco for backup.”
Nice. Leave the Russians out of this. There’s enough bad blood between them and Tony. And Max didn’t even know about Viktor before tonight anyway. We’ll just keep that part to ourselves for now. I’m sure it’ll come out later…everything does at some point or other.
Tony’s gaze is still fixed on me, like he’s trying to sear a hole into my brain to see if I have a different take on the night’s events. I stare right back and nod. “That’s how it went down, Tony.”
“Really,” he spats, moving closer to the bed.
“That’s what happened, for Christ’s sake!” Rocco moans loudly from the neighboring room. “Fuck! Am I eligible for some medical attention, guys? Or are you all going to let me die while you argue about timelines? The bastard is dead, Shaye is safe, and I’m bleeding out like I’ve just given birth. Those are the most important things here, yeah? So can we get on with this? Please?”