Motown Showdown (29 page)

“You fucking shot me,” she growls inching forward slowly. Reaching for her, she shakes me off without thought.

“Camo,” I whisper grabbing on to her waist tighter. “Don’t.”

“Let go, Gadget,” she orders turning quickly while pressing the barrel to my forehead. “Let go, or I’ll kill you.” She was dead fucking serious, so I let go putting my hands up.

“Camo!” Kandace calls out from behind the cupboards.

“Do not fucking move, Kandace,” she says low. “Roman, hold her. Neither of you makes one fucking move until this is over.”

“Camo?” she asks crying. “Are you hurt?”

“No,” she says staring Digger down. “Never been better.”

“Camo can’t die, Camo can’t die.”

“Digger is mine,” she says to herself then straddles him. Digger happy to have her close, welcomes her weight and without glancing at me she orders me to, “Take care of the lovebirds.”

“Camo…”

“Now, Gadget,” she snaps her eyes never leaving his.

Ignoring me, she tightens her legs on his sides, leans in putting her pistol to his forehead now.
Better him than me
…

“What’s my name, Digger?”

“Camo,” he whispers, awe and love in his voice.

“You fucking shot me,” she says sticking her finger in his open wound. Screaming in agony, he thrashes but doesn’t try to break away or hurt her. “You betrayed me,” she says looking him over. “You would have killed my family.”

“No,” he cries out. “Just Gadget! I had to kill Gadget! Kill Gadget and you come back to me!”

“Sit up,” she says leaning back. “
Sit up
, Digger and face me.”

Making his way upright, he looked so honest to God in love with her I felt sorry for the guy. “I kill for those I love,” she says raising her arm. “Vengeance is mine. You don’t take what’s mine.” One round, between the eyes he tipped over and fucking died with a smile on his face.

“It’s done?” Bobo asks from outside where the wall used to be. Hell, where the back half of the house used to be. He was dressed like a soldier of old because he was a soldier and in truth, he was fucking intimidating.

“It’s done,” she says standing up slowly.

“Still got time to kill this asshole,” Whisky says stepping into eye-fuck me. Camo turns to him and gives him a look I can’t see, but it meant something because he shrugged and said, “Maybe next time.”

“Don’t go,” Kandace says standing with a shell-shocked Rome behind her. “Camo,
please
don’t go.”

“Move out,” she says ignoring Kandace and stepping away from Digger. With each man taking her side, they step out through the hole while holding her up
.

“Camo!” I yell for her scrambling to get my footing.

Turning, she locks in on me and any love she had for me was gone. Stunned and rooted in place I wanted to say it, tell her I loved her but everything about this moment stopped me. “My name is Pepper,” she says with zero emotion on her face. To her, I no longer existed, and I panicked.

“Camo,” I beg her. “Don’t do this. Let me explain.”

“You were my favorite kind of lie,” she says loosely holding her gun and looking beyond me. “The kind where I thought if I said it enough it would become the truth. I can’t live a lie anymore. So here’s some truth. You were my purpose, my reason for everything. You’re alive and breathing, consider that purpose served.”

“You
love
me,” I challenge and to that all she did was offer me a sad smile before turning away.

“Yo, fuckface,” Whisky says stopping while she kept going. “Calvary’s comin’.” Catching back up to her, he flung an arm over her shoulder, and I watched her lean against him. “Camo!” I roar surging forward.

When Bobo stopped to face me all he said was, “Son, no.”

With the lovebirds coming to my side, Kandace crying, and Rome trying to comfort her, I fell to my knees.

Then the fucking cavalry showed up.

It hurts to let go.

But sometimes it hurts more to hold on.

Whoever said that knew what the fuck was up.

I walked away.

It wasn’t easy, in fact, it was damn near impossible hearing the pain in his voice. Hell, I could almost believe he actually cared. But instead of turning around, I just walked faster. I kept my promise, served my purpose. They were safe, the game was over and I was finished playing. The three of us made it to our vehicles, just as the police, ambulance and swat team was arriving. Good luck explaining the grenade launcher, asshole!

Gage would handle it, or he wouldn’t, whatever.

If he would just stop screaming my name…

The small connection I offered to Gadget to alert him I was here was still in place. I could feel his pain and frustration. Not needing the reminder that the last six years left me with nothing, I shut it down. Funny, how it didn’t hurt this time. I guess when you know you’ve lost the one thing you love most not much else can harm you.

Climbing into my car and starting it up, I looked down at my hands and noticed they weren’t shaking. Rock-steady. This was a first. Though my hands were still, my heart was blown wide open. I assume when the pain is wrapped tight around your heart making it hard to breathe, you forget something as silly as shaking hands.

Although my chest felt like it was hit by pickup truck, some liquor, and a pain pill would fix that problem. Point blank with a .45.
What a dick
. Following me back to the loft, I thank them both for having my back and Gadget’s family too. They knew like I knew, without them we’d all be dead. Pulling Whisky into a hug, I let him know the honest truth. “You’re a good friend to have.”

“Camo,” he laughs hugging me tight. “You’re the only friend I got. Everyone else hates me.”

“You’re kind of a dick, Whisky.”

“I want my cookies,” he says bumping fists with me.

“Deal.”

“Got phone calls to make,” he smiles. “Guys will want to hear about this shit.”

Waving him off, Bobo knows I’m emotionally fucked, so he keeps it brief. “Made me proud,” he says kissing my head. “You good?”

“No,” I smile sadly up at him. “But I will be.”

After guzzling some bourbon, I shower before ending my night off with Vicodin. For a solid hour, I stood in front of my bulletin board drunk, stoned and pitiful.
My ode to Gadget
. Resting my forehead against it, I was tempted to tear the motherfucker down. But I decided I’d had enough pain for one night and climbed into bed. Curled up in alone and in a ball, I did some reflecting. Maybe I should have seen it coming with Digger. Maybe I should have given Whisky more credit. Maybe in the beginning I did owe Pilgrim respect. Maybe my ego caused all of this. Maybe I was just like my dad. Maybe… I wasn’t meant for love.

Or perhaps it was simply, I wasn’t meant for Gadget.

When none of the answers came, I passed out screaming his name with a bottle in my hand.

The following morning the silence in my loft was deafening. Replying to everyone via text, I let them know it was official, the wire and the agencies were closed for good. They all got it, understood it was time, and it was Whisky who let me know the guys got the full story. I didn’t watch the news, listen to the police ban or even make a cup of coffee. What I did do was pack light and call Uber for a ride to the airport. Bobo knew I needed to go, be free for a while and work through this new life I’d be living. I promised to keep in touch, he promised to take his meds and only watch porn before bed.
Dirty old man
…

Before shutting my phone down for the flight, I got a message from Kandace that said they were safe and living next door while the house was repaired. She also reminded me that she and Roman loved me. Wiping my eyes, I shut my phone down and didn’t send a reply. Simply because, I couldn’t. I had to believe they knew I loved them too and left it at that. Three hours and thirty some minutes later, I landed in Puerto Rico. An hour after that, I put my toes in the sand trying not to give my old life a second thought.

I failed miserably.

Two weeks later…

When I saw them pull up I groaned, Kandace looked guilty, and Rome was grinning.

Fuck.

Storming in, Dick points and says, “You, explain.”

“Explain what?”

“Start with how a rocket blew out the back half of this house,” he shouts. “And finish with how in the hell you let her walk away!”

“It wasn’t a rocket,” I mumble.

“It was a grenade launcher,” Rome grins. “Hey Dick, hey Peter,” he nods.

“It’s Big Daddy and Big Poppa,” Peter snaps.

“Uh,” Rome says looking at me for help. “Not going there.”

“Camo had no problem with it,” he argues. “In fact, she endorses both names. Take a play from her book, boy.”

“Wait,” Rome laughs and Kandace nudges him to shut up. “You want me to call you Big Daddy and Big Poppa?”

“Yes,” they say in unison.

“On purpose?”

“Dads,” I interrupt. “She’s gone, threat’s gone, we’re safe and the house will be repaired.”

“You didn’t follow her?” Dick asks.

“No,” I mumble. “I don’t know where she is.”

“I do,” Kandace whispers staring at her feet.

“The fuck?” I ask throwing my hands up. “Why didn’t you say something?”

“Because I’m team Camo!” she says lashing out at me. “If she wanted you to know, she’d tell you. She didn’t so, take the hint, asshole!”

“You’re my sister!”

“She’s my sister too!”

“No,” I shout then stand up. “She is mine, period!”

“Whatever,” she says tossing her hair over her shoulder. “Clearly, I love her more than you do, so I found out where she went. Oh and big brother?” she asks digging the knife in deep. “She’s rocking a bikini, outdoors. Word is, she’s made friends too. Male friends, with cocks.” For some reason, that pushed me past the point of no return, and I roared,

“No one loves her more than I do!” then I looked around the room to my family smiling at me.

Especially my little sister.

With my feet in the ocean and a cocktail in my hand, I do my best to ignore the man on the other end of the phone. As far as life advice goes, he pretty much sucks.

“You meet a fella yet?”

“No,” I groan. “I’m on a break from cock. All cock.”

“Which is why you should watch porn,” he says. “Ain’t gotta worry about getting your heart broken. Wrist, maybe. Heart, no.”

“You have a point,” I laugh.

“Course I do,” he says then sobers. “Kandace called.”

“Yeah?”

“Girl is not a quitter. Told her where you were, she promised not to spill. Only told her so she’d stop calling, you mad?”

“No, Bobo,” I smile. “I’m not mad. Miss you, old man, gotta go.”

“Miss you, Pep.”

For two weeks, I’ve tried being Pepper. Or I should say getting back to being Pepper. Sipping my drink, I stared out at the boats and accepted the fact that I was both. My bartender gave me some wisdom my second day here. He reminded me of something important. And it was, “I didn’t need that to make me this.”

What I took from that was, I was who I was meant to be. The name didn’t make me this. Losing my parents didn’t make me this. I didn’t need to kill to be this. No more than I needed Gadget to love me to be this.