Cowboy Gangster 03 - Outlaws of Love (3 page)

Lifting his head slowly, Axel looked at him as tears seeped down his cheeks. “So…so everything you said to me these last couple days, it…it was just
bullshit?
” His chin trembled as shudders gripped his body. “You…you said you would
stay
. You said you missed me when we weren’t together. You said…” Tears rose thick and flooded out on a choking sob. “You said you were
mine.
” He ducked his head again and cried quietly. “You said it was the…truth.”

I know what I said! Don’t fucking remind me! Please, don’t…
Clint turned away and worked the hem of his shirt beneath the waistband of his jeans. He fought the tears but they refused to be put down. “This is real life, Axel,” he rasped, his throat scratchy. “Fucking reality. Promises get broken all the time, because life is a motherfucker that kicks the shit out of you every fucking chance it gets. Nothing is…absolute.” He shook his head, his stare blank as he finished tucking in his shirt. “You don’t understand,” he added with a stiff whisper.

Axel shifted on the bed. “I don’t
understand?
” Axel choked. “I don’t understand life’s a motherfucker?” He left the bed and Clint could feel his presence so close to him as the boy stood behind him, voice shaking with hurt and anger. “I understand
just fine,
” he cried tightly. “You think I don’t know how it feels to get the fuck kicked out of me by
life?
That’s
all
ever I got! Knocked to the fucking ground and kicked in the balls!
All my fucking life!
Don’t tell me I don’t
fucking understand
how hard and cruel
life is!”

For a split second, Clint considered aborting his mission to leave. Axel was stronger than he appeared at times.

Strong enough to survive without you in his world…but not strong enough to survive in yours.

Insisting on keeping Axel put everyone at risk. Axel most of all. Whoever the fuck put those men on Axel –did so because of Clint. He was convinced of that much. Extracting Axel from his life would prevent him from becoming leverage against Clint.
And without him around…you can focus on those who depend on you to have their back.

Axel grabbed his arm and stepped around in front of him. He gripped his shirt as the force of his anger drained away, leaving the fear and hurt reflecting painfully bright in his beautiful eyes. “You made it stop,” he trembled.

“What?” Clint rasped as he shifted his stare away from Axel’s tear streaked face.

“You stopped life from…beating me down.” His fingers tightened, squeezing Clint’s shirt in his fist. “You made my life better and…and I know…” his chin trembled and fresh tears formed. “I
know
I made yours better, too. You can’t deny that.”

Clint swallowed hard and kept his eyes averted as his vision blurred. His arms ached to wrap Axel tight in their embrace, hold him…and never let go. But it was all still just part of the dream that was quickly fading before his eyes.

“That night…” Axel pushed closer, quiet sobs breaking his voice as he slid his arms around Clint’s body and pressed his face into his shoulder. “…I told you I wanted you to stay…I wanted you to be mine. And you said…” He shook against Clint and held him tighter. “…You said
I’m yours.
And you made me say it, too. You made me say I was yours, too.” He buried his face in Clint’s neck, his tears wetting his skin as his body trembled. “You can’t take that back. You can’t. It was the truth…I know it was. You can’t take it back.” His sobs strengthened, straining his body. “You can’t take
you
back. You can’t…” His arms squeezed hard and lips pressed against Clint’s neck, breath shuddering. “…You can’t make me need you so much…then just…
leave
me.”

Clint raised his hands slowly and cupped Axel’s head, his fingers slipping into his soft curls, savoring the feel. He dipped down and touched his lips to the young man’s hair and closed his eyes as warm tears slid off his face and seeped into Axel’s blond strands –then pulled from his arms, tearing the boy’s heart out as he went.

“No…” Axel whimpered and tried to cling to him. Clint’s throat closed, his vision blurring until he could barely see as he worked himself loose of Axel’s grip and hurriedly tugged on his boots then grabbed up his jacket and the Beretta and walked to the door.

He paused as his hand curled around the door knob, his back to Axel. He couldn’t face him. If he looked –if he saw what he was doing to him –he would never make it out. “I’m sorry,” he whispered in a broken voice.

Axel’s sobs shattered his heart. “I don’t want your fucking
apology
,” Axel cried thickly. “I just want
you.”

Clint trembled, his breath unsteady. Hot tears rolled down his tense face as he twisted the handle and opened the door.

“Please…” Axel shuddered softly. “…Stay.”

Clint’s heart fell to the bedroom floor piece by piece, leaving him hollow inside as he walked out.

His boots were lead, heavy, laboring his steps as his fingers drifted to his necklace.

I love it…I’ll never take it off
.

His face wet, Clint touched the starburst pendant.

Baby, you’ll always be the one bright light in my dark world.

♦

“I’m already regretting this arrangement. Maybe I’ll get lucky and die young with a virgin ass.”

Cory jabbed a finger at him. “Don’t even fucking joke about that while on the job.” A smile played on his lips but his words were dead serious. “Or ever.”

“Sorry,” Shay cast him a remorseful look and smiled. “Bad timing.”

“Apology accepted,” Cory nodded. “Now we kiss and make up.”

“Fuck,” Shay laughed. “We didn’t fight.”

“Close enough,” Cory insisted.

“You are beyond incorrigible,” Shay chuffed. “I don’t even think there’s a word for you.”

Cory was pretty sure his dad would agree. He smiled. “Well, we can think one up while we’re lying naked under the sheets on your fortieth birthday –after hot sex, of course.”

Shay rubbed his rump and grimaced. “My ass is already feeling the pain.”

“But what sweet pain it is,” Cory winked.

The soft laughter between them slowly faded and Cory peered through the window in the door. “Well,” he murmured. “As Uncle Clint would say –time to cowboy up.”

Shay smiled. “I can’t believe he rescued a puppy. He’s just a big ole softy at heart. Like a teddy bear.”

“Teddy bears still have teeth and claws,” Cory cast him a sidelong glance and grinned. “So I’d be cautious about calling him such.”

“Oh fuck no,” Shay chuckled. “I wouldn’t say it to his face.”

“Smart move.” Cory twisted the door knob and looked at Shay. “Put on your game face, baby.” He picked up the bat from where he’d leaned it against the wall. “Things are about to get ugly.”

Cory opened the door and stepped out, moving to the side along the wall, staying in the deeper shadows. Shay was on his heels, tense and alert.

“This way-” He flinched hard as a sudden spray of wetness splattered his face. “What the fuck?” he wiped his cheek quickly –and instantly caught scent of the iron stench. He turned quickly. “Shay-”

The kid fell against him hard and heavy, his head landing on Cory’s shoulder. The Glock clattered dully on the concrete floor as it fell from Shay’s hand.

“Shay?” Cory grabbed him and tried to hold him up, but the kid’s body was suddenly dead weight in his arms. “Shay!” he cried and went to the floor with him, hands shaking as he grabbed his flashlight and shone it on the young man’s face. “No…no-no-no…fuck…” Blood drained down Shay’s face, flowing from the small bullet hole between his eyes. A perfect shot. “Shay! Fuck!”

He cradled the kid’s head, horror exploding through him as his fingers touched the back of his head –parts of his skull gone, his soft, beautiful hair matted in blood and bits of skull and brain matter.

“Fuuuck!”

●  ●  ●

“Shay!” Cory’s eyes snapped open and he bolted forward –a sudden overload of pain knocking him down again. A hand touched his chest, palm flat and holding him in place. His head spun and tears flowed as he tried to get his bearings. He could still feel the warmth of Shay’s blood on his hands, the weight of his body as it sagged against him –so still and…

Panic swept through him and he tried to sit forward again, but the hand held him firm. “Don’t try to move, son.”

Dad
. Cory swallowed hard. “Shay…” he whispered, the sudden surge of strength leaving him fast. “Where is Shay?”

“Just rest, son,” Anthony spoke low, the strain in his voice intensifying Cory’s fear and panic. “You’re going to be okay.”

Cory’s hand trembled as he grabbed weakly for his father. “Shay…” He swallowed thickly, his throat dry. “Is he…?” He shuddered, his mind still hazy, unfocused. How much of the fragmented memories was imagined…and how much
real?

His dad squeezed his hand, holding tight. “Cory…”

“Is he…dead?” Cory shook, tears rising fast. “
Is
he?” His eyes darted unsteadily around the hospital room and caught Angelo’s stare. Tears rolled down the man’s face…despair radiating in his gaze. “No…” His face crumpled in anguish and he squeezed his eyes shut. “No…he can’t be…”

His dad’s arms went around him and held him. The man shuddered, struggling to hold it together. “I’m so sorry, son,” he whispered, voice strained, broken. “I’m so sorry.”

Cory clung to him, ignoring the pain in his body, and cried.

Angelo approached the opposite side of the bed and stood still and quiet. When Cory released his father, he reached for Angelo’s hand. “He loved you like a father,” Cory choked, drawing short uneven breaths. “Both of you,” he added thickly, looking at his dad.

Angelo nodded but didn’t seem to trust himself to speak.

Sagging weakly against the bed, Cory stared at the ceiling, tears tricking down into his hair. “I think…” he rasped shakily. “I think…Venetti set us up.” His chin trembled as he felt again the weight of Shay’s lifeless body dropping against him…the warmth of his blood seeping through Cory’s jeans. He sucked in a shaky breath, his brow pinching in hurt and anger. “I want him dead.” He looked at his dad, tears blurring his vision. “I want that motherfucker strung up by his fucking
balls.
” He searched the room and noticed Cochise for the first time, standing silently by the door. The man’s face was hard as stone. “Do it,” he choked, breath coming quick. “Please…make him fucking pay for what he did.”

Cochise held his stare. “Already done.”

“He’s…dead?” Cory trembled.

The man nodded slowly.

Cory looked for Clint, but he wasn’t present. “Where’s Uncle Clint?” A sudden fear gripped him –had something gone wrong when they went after Venetti? Why wouldn’t Clint be here?

“He’ll be here later,” Anthony said. He glanced at Cochise but spoke to Cory. “He had something he needed to take care of.”

“What?” Cory asked. What would keep Clint from being there when Cory woke up?

His dad shook his head. “I don’t know for sure.” He looked at Cochise again and Cory followed his stare.

“Do you know where he went?” he asked the Egyptian.

“He didn’t say,” Cochise spoke low, though an uncharacteristic strain tightened his voice a fraction, twisting Cory’s gut tighter.

♦

The bedroom door had done little to muffle the raised voices –or Axel’s cries. Angel stood rigid between the sofa and coffee table, fists clenched at his sides, tears on his tight face. When he heard the bedroom door open, he’d come up off the sofa, ready for a confrontation.

“Angel…” Dane stood up behind him, a strain to his voice. He touched Angel’s arm, but the boy jerked away.

“No,” he choked. “How can he do this? How-”

The sound of Clint’s heavy, quickened footsteps preceded him before he surged through the living room toward the door. The cowboy’s face was hard with tension and wet with tears. He didn’t look their way as he strode past Angel and Dane.

“Where are you going?” Angel demanded suddenly.

“Angel,” Dane reached for him again but Angel moved forward as Clint ignored him and pulled open the door.

“You can’t leave!” Angel choked on a swell of emotion and grabbed the door before the man could close it behind him as he exited the apartment. He followed him into the hall outside. “You can’t do this to him!”

“Angel, don’t…” Dane was on his heels, gripping his arm. Too tight to break loose from.

Clint started down the stairs as if Angel weren’t there.

“He
loves
you!” Angel cried after him, tears brimming. “Can’t you
fucking
see that?”

The cowboy’s step faltered, his hand gripping the rail.