Six Guns: Volume Two (10 page)

Stan shrugged. “Somebody who walked into her clothing store. He seemed more interested in Lilah though than the clothes.”

What the fuck?

“Did he touch her?”

“What?”

“Did he put his fucking hands on her?” I asked.

Stan shook his head. “I broke it up, man. She was pissed at me for it, too. Then they saw each other along the street the second time and went into a coffee shop together.”

“What do you mean by together? Did they meet there or was it just in passing?”

Again Stan shrugged. It further added to my already growing irritation.

“It was crowded in there. I followed them in. They just stood in line together, talked, shit like that.”

“A name, Stan. I need a name.”

“I told you I don’t know, man.”

I let out a growl of frustration. “That’s not good enough!”

“That’s why she doesn’t want me around,” he continued. “I mess up all her plans.”

This didn’t sound like the Lilah I knew. Then again, exactly what did I know about her? I had taken her in after her husband had treated her like shit. We slept in the same bed every night, but was the woman I imagined her to be not really who she was at all? Could I have been so stupid to be sleeping next to a stranger this entire time?

“Fucking headache.” I dug my fingers into the sides of my temples. This day was already turning into a nightmare and it was only mid-afternoon. I wasn’t about to go all sappy and weird in front of my cousin over a
woman.
He didn’t even know what he was talking about anyway. He didn’t even know the guy’s name for Christ’s sake. I didn’t want to look at his face anymore. I didn’t want to see anyone. I turned around and headed for the doors that led to the upper level of the house.

Once inside the elevator, I pressed my forehead against the smooth, cool wall and gave in to my emotions for a moment. Seeing Uncle Dusty here in Haven had been an ugly kind of surreal. Maybe involving family at all was a huge mistake. Maybe Stan wasn’t one to be trusted with this kind of stuff. But now he was already knee deep into this shit. What was I going to do now?

Then there was Lilah and this guy Stan had mentioned. Why was it killing me to know who he was?

As the elevator door opened, I heard giggling and voices. Lilah was leaning back on the couch with her feet propped up, a champagne glass in her hand. Her best friend, Shayna, was opposite her on a loveseat. She, too, was sipping on champagne.

Ah, the good life. Lilah was now a high profile owner of an expensive clothing boutique. She was in the process of becoming a clothing designer herself. She lived in a mansion, had access to whatever amount of money her heart desired to do whatever she desired. That was all because of
me.

I didn’t like the sudden bitterness I now tasted in my mouth as I looked at her with that glorious smile plastered on her face as she chatted with her friend.

“Everything okay?” Lilah asked, as if immediately recognizing that everything in my world had been rocked within the last few minutes.

“Fine,” I casually replied, strolling over to the bar to pour myself a drink. “Hey, Shayna.”

“Nicky,” Shayna said, giving me a smile.

“Don’t mind me,” I told them, settling down in a chair across the room. “I’m gonna sit over here and unwind.”

Lilah’s eyes lingered on me for a while before she returned to whatever it was that she and Shayna were busy babbling about.

I took a sip of the whiskey on the rocks and enjoyed the burn going the entire way down to my stomach. I placed the glass on the small table beside me and reached in my pocket for a cigarette. Lighting one up, I placed it in between my lips and leaned back against the headrest. I let my eyes open slightly as I watched Lilah from a distance. It was impossible to relax right now. I was too amped up. My emotions were running all over the place, making me feel all crazy inside.

I had a lot of responsibility now. I had men who counted on me for a paycheck. I had to keep my head clear so that someone didn’t put a bullet in my back. I didn’t need any more distractions than I already had. Lilah was a distraction—a major one.

Yeah, something ached in my chest when I thought about the possibility of her not being with me anymore. I’d gotten used to her being around. I’d invested money in her
dream,
but fuck the money. That didn’t really matter. What mattered was that I actually cared about her. I had caught feelings the moment she went with me to see my sick mother, when she had stayed with me throughout the whole ordeal, even the funeral. Now she knew what my position was at the head of the group here, and still she stayed. That had been all good and fine, but the one thing I wouldn’t tolerate was being made a fool of. I wasn’t going to have her screwing around with some other guy behind my back and making me look like a jackass. I had eyes everywhere—or at least I had to have people thinking that. What would they say about me if I couldn’t even keep tabs on my own girlfriend?

I took another hit of my cigarette and reached for my liquor again. I took a deep sip and closed my eyes for a moment.

Lilah with another guy…

Surely she wasn’t stupid enough to do something like that.

Surely I wasn’t stupid enough to keep thinking about this mediocre shit.

I’d figure out who he was and if she was involved in any way with him. If she was, I’d shut her out of my life and kill him. This wasn’t as complicated as I was making it out to be.

I stared at Lilah again, her bouncy blonde hair, her lips as she took another sip of her sweet champagne.

Keeping my head clear and not having her in my life—no matter how much I wanted to deny it, that was a complication.

TWELVE

CROSS

“I really like this design you’ve been working on, Lilah.”

I smiled at Emily. I’d recently hired two girls to help me run Cain Designs. Out of the two, this one was my favorite. She was sweet but had a little sassiness to her. When customers tried on clothing, she could make them believe they looked like gods and goddesses in whatever it was they were trying on. Emily had also suggested we serve hors d’oeuvres to some of the really ritzy customers along with pink champagne. I splurged a little and decided to go along with it. Of course it was a hit.

“This dress is going to be a top seller. Make sure to make one in my size.” Emily gave me a wink. She struck a pose alongside my desk. “You know, little waist, big bust.” She moved her hands up to her chest to accentuate her bustiness. I laughed. “Cherry red. I’ll go all over the clubs in Haven in your dress shouting to the heavens that Lilah Cross is the designer. Hell, I’ll even start handing out business cards. I’ll pull them out of my brassiere.”

“You’re too much for even me to handle.” I laughed again. “Thanks for sticking around and keeping me company.”

“Hey, thanks for the booze.” She lifted up the bottle of wine I’d cracked open earlier. I’d barely even taken a few sips of my glass while Emily had basically downed the whole thing herself.

“Going out later?”

She nodded. “Meeting up with some girls for drinks.”

“Like you need any more.”

“Oh, I can keep up with the best of ‘em.”

I didn’t doubt that. I would’ve been passed out face down on the floor if I’d drank as much as she did, but she still seemed actually pretty coherent and focused. It was impressive.

A sudden gust of wind sent my design papers spiraling out of control. I jumped up from my chair to try to round them up when I looked up to see the back entrance of the boutique opened wide. In came some of Nicky’s crew. They were struggling to hold up one of the Triplets who seemed on the verge of unconsciousness, and it took three of them just to get him in through the door.

In all of the chaos, I bumped my still full glass of wine, the deep red color soaking into the crisp white papers that I’d just spent most of the evening sketching on.

“Shit,” I mumbled, now trying to clean up my mess, wondering how many designs I’d just ruined while my eyes darted back up to the scene at the back of my store. A puddle of blood, the same color as the wine I’d just spilled all over the top of my desk, was forming on my beautiful new floor. I dropped all of the designs back into the wine, suddenly not caring about the loss of my work at all. I was in full blown panic mode, my heart thundering inside my chest as the situation quickly revealed itself to me.

Triplet bleeding.

Nicky’s men.

My store.

Fuck.

“Emily!” I shouted out, jumping in front of her so she could no longer see what was unfolding here. “I think we’ll call it a night, okay?” My breathing was coming in short gasps, my speech sounding pressured. “You should go.” My eyes scanned the store. The front doors. I fumbled for my keys in my desk drawer. My hand was shaking uncontrollably.

“Lilah…” Emily’s voice trailed off.

I didn’t respond as I grasped onto the keys and hurried toward the front of the building, Emily’s arm in my hand as I practically forced her to come with me. Once at the doors, I was completely out of breath. She tried to turn her head to look toward the guys, but I spun her around again, her nose almost hitting against the glass of the doors.

“Have a great night. I’ll see you tomorrow.” I unlocked the doors with my trembling fingers, shoved Emily outside, and hurried to lock up again. My chest was heaving up and down by the time I finally conjured up enough courage to face the situation currently happening in my brand new boutique.

They had the door to the room Nicky claimed as
his
at Cain Designs open and were struggling to get the injured Triplet inside. I hadn’t even seen this room yet. From here, it look finished. How in the world had Nicky sent someone to finish it without me having known about it? I sucked in a deep breath and went to investigate, though I wasn’t sure I was quite ready to find out the answers.

“What happened?” I asked.

Everyone ignored me as they put the Triplet, who I considered to be an ogre along with his two brothers, on an oversized sectional in the corner of the room. Blood continued to spill everywhere and splatter across the floor as they laid him down on his side.

“Get him bandaged up,” one of the men commanded.

“With what?”

“I don’t know! Rip off your fucking shirt!”

They were just as panicked as I was as they fumbled about, their eyes wide in alarm as one of their own bled out. The Triplet’s head was beaded with sweat, his clothes crimson red as one of the guys lifted his T-shirt above his head and began ripping it in sections to get some pressure on the wound.

My eyes took in the surroundings. It was a large room, and indeed Nicky had had it finished right underneath my nose. That sneaky bastard. It was dark but beautiful—very different from the rest of the boutique. It was made into his secret lair complete with a large safe, guns positioned on the walls looking more like trophies than weapons, and a large desk with chairs positioned around it, almost identical to the one in the mansion labeled as
Carmine’s meeting room.
These guys were in trouble tonight, and they’d come
here.

Double fuck.

Nicky Cain was using Cain Designs as his underground.

“What happened?” I said louder, my nervousness starting to be overcome by adrenaline. “How can I help?”

“Shut the door,” the one I remembered as Augie told me. He was a quiet, thin man who seemed to mostly keep to himself. I didn’t know exactly what his place was in the group, but if I had to guess, it would be more behind the scenes as he didn’t seem the least bit threatening. He moved methodically with the ripped T-shirt pieces and tied them around the gushing wound. As he tied it tightly, the Triplet’s lips moved to make a groaning sound before his eyes rolled back into oblivion once again.

“I don’t know what happened back there,” one of the other guys stated aloud.

“Who the fuck was that?”

“Where’s Nicky?” he asked.

“On his way.”

I pushed a strand of loose hair behind my ear and then bit down on the end of my fingernail. I wanted to ask more questions, but it was as though I didn’t exist even though this place belonged to me. Augie pressed both of his hands down against the wound as he mumbled something about how deep the bullet went. A gunshot wound. What kind of trouble happened tonight? I began to wonder if this man was going to die in my boutique when the door swung open and in stepped Nicky.

I watched his eyes carefully as he focused in on the situation—at Augie’s poor attempt to mend the wound.

“Nicky, I…” I began, but his eyes never found mine. Like the other men, I was a ghost in this room to him, too. No one could hear me. I was just there witnessing the horror at hand. I watched as he walked over to the couch and peered down at the Triplet, the creases in his forehead becoming more defined.

“How bad is it?” he asked.

Augie pushed down hard against the blood-soaked shirt again. “He’s lost a lot of blood already. Bullet’s deep.”

Nicky didn’t answer for a moment, just continued to stare down at Augie’s red hands.

“Nicky.” I stepped over to him and placed my hand on his shoulder.

He reacted as if I’d just jabbed him with a hot poker, his head swinging around, his eyes enraged as he glared at me. “Get out, Lilah.”

His words were cold and empty. I searched his eyes again, but they were fierce and far away. I felt a dull ache in my chest from that look he was giving me, the dullness becoming more and more prominent with each passing second. And then the tears filled my eyes. This is the Nicky Cain I had worried would make an appearance all along. I’d hoped I would never witness this side of him, that he’d never show this part of himself to me, but here I was—one of his victims—and it hurt like hell.

“This is your reaction to my being here?” I asked, though it sounded little more than a whisper, my voice choking on both my shock of that look he was still giving along with the physical pain that bit at every inch of me. “Let me help,” I pleaded.

Without even so much as a blink, Nicky narrowed his eyes at me. “I don’t give a fuck what you do. Just stay out of the way.”

A scream-like moan emanated from the Triplet at whatever it was Augie was trying to do to him. I just stood there, helpless, my heart feeling as though it were just ripped out and bleeding all over the place along with the Triplet. I couldn’t move, my legs cemented to the floor from the sudden heaviness that Nicky had just thrown at me. What had I said or done that deserved what I’d just gotten?

“Give me details,” Nicky said, turning his back to me now.

“It was just a regular drop off,” Seton explained, one of the new guys who had just recently come into the group standing by his side, his tattoos exposed on his bare chest because his shirt had been handed over to Augie. “It was as though the cops knew exactly where we’d be and what time.”

“Was it an H package?” Nicky asked.

The new guy nodded.

“Did it get delivered?”

“No,” Seton answered. “Ham here did nothing wrong. One cop started yelling and the next thing we knew he was firing and the Triplet was hit. We didn’t know he was hit until he started slowing down. Augie brought the car around just in time.”

“No one fired back at the cop?”

“Didn’t have a chance,” Seton told him. “It felt shady, Nicky, like we were set up.”

“Christ,” Nicky hissed out, running his fingers through his hair. He put his hands on his hips. “We can’t take him to the hospital. They’ll be looking for him there.”

“Right,” Seton answered.

“Yeah, well, he’s going to fucking die if we don’t do something fast,” Augie remarked. The couch was now covered in blood. I was surprised that the Triplet was even still breathing with how much of his blood was spilling onto everything.

The wheels started turning in my head. Before I could stop myself, my mouth opened. “I have a friend.”

That got their attention.

I licked my lips and continued. “He’s a doctor. I think I can get him to help…and keep quiet,” I added.

Nicky seemed to internally argue with the notion for about five seconds, but he knew this may be his only option of saving one of his men. “Call your person.” His tone was still harsh, but maybe not as harsh as before.

I left the room to go back to my desk to retrieve my phone. Fortunately, none of the wine had reached it as I searched through my contact list with shaky fingers. I didn’t know if he was still in my phone. It had been a long time since I’d spoken with him. We’d gone to college together. Everyone had said he’d had a crush on me back then, but I never believed it. He was just a decent guy who studied hard and wanted to make his way in this world as a surgeon. I’d caught up with him later to find out he was working at Haven Hospital doing what he always wanted to do, helping people by performing surgery on them.

After two rings, there was a soft hello on the other end. “Mick?”

A silent pause. “Yeah? Who’s this?”

I exhaled, not even realizing I had been holding my breath. “It’s Lilah. Lilah Cross.”

“Lilah? Wow. Haven’t heard from you…”

“In forever, I know. I wasn’t even sure if this was still your number or not. Listen, I need a favor.”

More hesitation on his end, though I couldn’t say I blamed him. “What’s going on, Lilah?”

“Something’s happened tonight. Someone is bleeding…dying…right now. They can’t take him to the hospital.”

“Why not?” he asked.

“I can’t tell you why,” I told him. “But it’s just not an option right now.”

“You mean it’s criminal?”

I swallowed. “Something like that. I called you because I trust you, Mick, and because I know you can save this man’s life. I just need your discretion.”

“Lilah,” he said quietly. “Involving me can cost me my career.”

“It won’t,” I tried to assure him. “Please don’t ask any questions, Mick. I really need your help. You’re the first and only person who came into my mind.”

“How serious is it?”

“It’s very bad. Blood everywhere. A gunshot wound to the abdomen.”

“Ugh.” Mick sighed into the phone.

“Please, Mick,” I pleaded. I needed this not only for the Triplet’s life to be saved, but for Nicky to have some sort of remorse for the way he treated me moments ago. I wanted him to thank me for helping. I wanted him to trust me. I wanted a lot, but right now, I needed to convince an old college friend that this call wasn’t a futile attempt.

“Shit, Lilah.” He was nervous. Anyone would be, but I could feel him starting to bend with my pleas. “Give me the address.”

I was silently celebrating as I told him where he should meet me. Luckily, his residence was only a few blocks away. Hopefully it wasn’t too late for the Triplet to be saved.