Jack & Coke (The Uncertain Saints Book 2) (23 page)

He was rubbing his neck, and I wanted to laugh.

However, I knew if I laughed, I’d be in too much pain afterward to make my body move.

“You take care of him?” I asked, sitting as still as I possibly could.

“Negative,” he said, closing the door.

He helped me to my feet, then surveyed my face.

“You look good,” he lied.

I winked at him.

“I’m trying some new makeup,” I grunted as I got my feet firmly on the ground beneath me. “Got a gun?”

He pulled a handcuff key out of his pocket, quickly removed the cuffs, and then shoved my own Glock into my hand.

The familiar weight of it felt heavenly.

“Annie?” I asked.

“Fine. Got a call from Wolf, then followed your signal here,” Casten said, answering my next question before I’d even asked it.

I nodded.

“Wolf still on the line?” I asked, checking the gun’s chamber.

Still loaded with my hollow points.

Good.

“Yeah, listened the entire time you got your face rearranged,” Casten replied almost soundlessly.

He went to the door, listened, and then opened it with nary a sound.

He pulled out a compact that looked vaguely familiar, but I couldn’t make my brain work long enough to figure out exactly where it’d come from.

I probably had a concussion…among other things.

“Clear,” Casten said.

I followed him, keeping my back to him as I cradled the gun in my good hand, but bad arm.

The shot wouldn’t be pretty, and it’d hurt like a mother, but it’d get done if I had to take anyone out.

Something I had to do a few moments later when we got into a boathouse, of all places.

It was a young man, one I remembered seeing on a flyer that’d crossed my office desk.

He’d been wanted for suspicion of selling drugs.

And the moment I saw him round the corner into the room we were standing in, I shot him in the leg.

I’d been aiming for the torso.

“Shit,” Casten said, rushing faster to the fallen man.

He removed the gun from the man’s back, did a quick tap down, and produced a set of keys.

Boat keys, to be specific.

“Bingo,” Casten said, standing up.

Then he took him out of the equation with a swift kick to the head that knocked him right the fuck out.

“Should’ve finished him,” I muttered, keeping an eye out.

Casten didn’t say anything.

I didn’t either.

We walked to the boat, Casten’s hands filled with two guns now, instead of just one.

“Gotta open the door and push off,” I said, gesturing for him to get into the boat.

He didn’t argue.

Instead, he got in, started the large boat up and waited for me to untie us.

It was a good thing, too.

Because, otherwise, I wouldn’t have seen the fucking trap door.

Catching Casten’s eyes, I gestured to the door, and then slipped through.

It was open, and I assumed that this was where the man Casten had taken down had been coming from when he rounded the corner and saw us.

I got down on my knees, leaning down to get a better look inside the opening, being sure not to put any weight on my bad arm.

And what I saw made my jaw drop.

“Holy Fuck.”

I looked up in time to see Casten take out the guy that’d tried to sneak up on my blind side.

“Fuck,” I said, quickly untying the boat.

Then I reached inside the trap door, grabbed a brick of marijuana, and tossed it up and over the bow of the boat.

Casten caught it, and I went to the garage door opener and hit the switch.

I should’ve known this had been too easy.

The next few minutes played out like a re-enactment of what happened at the OK Corral.

Gun fire was exchanged.

Bodies hit the ground.

The water.

Boats.

Luckily, Casten and I were good at what we did.

Hitting a moving target was a skill we’d both mastered.

These boys, however, probably had never shot at a moving target in their lives.

And it showed as they missed us, repeatedly.

Surprisingly, the only half way decent shot was Liam.

He hit above my head not once, but twice.

I dropped down to my belly and slipped into the water that was rolling with waves from all the boat traffic in the bay.

The salt in the water burned my injuries, and I was rethinking the wisdom of my decision to get in the water.

The hull of the boat protected me as I moved around the front of the boat, then down the other side.

Liam was still aiming at the spot where I’d been, which was his fatal mistake.

I aimed, then fired.

The difference between me and Liam…I didn’t miss.

Vodka mixes well with everything except decisions. Drink responsibly.

-Konn Vodka T-shirt

Mig

“Oh, God. You look terrible,” she whispered.

I looked up from where I was hunched over in the hospital bed.

It was the only position I could find that didn’t make my body ache so badly that I wanted to barf.

Despite the fact that the nurse had been kind enough to provide me with not just a painkiller, but an anti-nausea medicine.

I smiled slightly, hating the way her face broke out in despair when the movement split my lip open once again.

“Thanks,” I muttered dryly.

She placed her hands on my chest.

“Is there anything I can get you?” She whispered brokenly.

I nodded, wincing once again when the movement made pain explode in my brain.

“Yeah,” my voice cracked. “Come ‘ere and give me a kiss.”

Annie came, pressing her lips whisper soft against mine.

I appreciated the effort on her part, but right then I needed more than just a peck.

I needed to feel alive, to prove to myself that I didn’t die in that hellhole due to my own stupidity.

I deepened the kiss, and although I tasted blood, I kept pushing the kiss until we both had to stop due to shortness of breath.

“Enough of that now, boy,” Nonnie called, entering the room at her usual snail’s pace. “Thought for sure I’d have to walk back out because the clothes were gonna come off,” she huffed and sat down in the chair next to the bed. “And I barely got here as it is. Not to mention if I fell, my Life Alert button wouldn’t produce any hot firemen. Instead, I’d get ugly nurses who do nothing for me.”

I laughed.

I couldn’t help it.

My Nonnie never ceased to amaze me.

“Do you want me to get you something to drink, Nonnie?” Annie asked, worry evident in her voice.

“No. I have something to drink right here,” Nonnie said, pulling out a bottle of vodka. “Want some?”

Konn Vodka, to be specific.

“Uh, no. It’s three in the morning, and I don’t usually imbibe so late. It makes me restless,” Annie said, sounding like she wanted to laugh.

Nonnie twisted off the lid and looked at me pointedly.

“That woman is in labor,” Nonnie said, sounding as if she could care less about the situation.

Really it was because ‘that woman’ had nearly gotten her grandson killed.

I’d known Jennifer was in labor, too.

She was under protective custody until she had the baby. Then, once she was healed enough to be released, she’d be arrested and charged with all the crimes she’d committed.

From what I’d learned from Casten, only minutes before, Jennifer hadn’t really wanted to get me killed.

Apparently, she was more scared of Liam than she’d been of me and had done the only thing she thought she could do.

Tell Liam where I was.

What it had done, though, was snowballed and slammed her right in the face.

Now she was looking at accessory to attempted murder, conspiracy to the kidnapping of a federal officer, along with the date rape charges.

I couldn’t get her out of those if I tried.

But, I wouldn’t even try.

After all I’d done for Jennifer—despite what she’d done to me—she still didn’t hesitate to sacrifice me.

“I know.
What floor is the maternity ward on?” I asked.

“The fourth. I’ve already been up there to check on her,” Annie said.

“I wanted to say she wasn’t in labor, but Casten said her water broke when the police officers placed her under arrest,” I observed.

Annie nodded.

“We got home to an empty house, and Jennifer sitting on the couch eating popcorn,” Annie said softly. “It didn’t look different at all. No sign of a struggle, nothing out of place. But we knew something was up when Casten talked to your father.”

I nodded, waiting for her to continue.

“Your father brought us home immediately, walked into the house and started yelling at Jennifer,” Annie said.

“I would’ve snatched the witch up by her hair,” Nonnie offered her input.

I snorted.

Annie laughed.

“I was on the verge of doing that too when the police officers got there,” Annie supplied. “Would’ve done it, too, but they took her into custody so fast that I thought she was going to get whiplash.”

I sighed.

“She’s so fuckin’ screwed,” I told them. “I’ve done all I can, but she’s still going to serve ten years,
minimum
.”

Annie snorted. “I hope the bitch serves life. Or possibly dies in there.”

Nonnie made agreeing sounds, and I smiled.

“So how much longer until the baby gets here?” I asked her.

Annie shook her head.

“She kept screaming at me and throwing so much of a fit that I had to leave before she hurt herself or others,” Annie explained.

I growled in frustration, then threw the blankets off of me.

“Go get a nurse to take this out for me, please. I’m going to get dressed, then I guess I’ll go up there and see her.”

My voice sounded as tired as I felt.

And Annie must’ve realized it, because she didn’t argue at all.

“Okay,” she whispered. “Don’t move too fast.”

I gave her a salute and got out of the bed, careful of the IV that was in my forearm.

They’d been pumping me full of fluids through the line, and I had to pee worse than I’d ever had to pee before.

I moved like an old man as I shuffled my feet forward, one after the other, to the bathroom.

“I can see your butt,” Nonnie called from behind me.

I held up a thumb.

Nonnie laughed.

“It’s the only thing that doesn’t have any bruises. Annie should be happy.”

I shut the door on her laughter.

“Look, you’re on the news!” Annie yelled through the door. “Your ass looks awesome in those jeans. You can’t even tell you’re hurt!”

I turned my eyes to the wall and just shook my head.

I hadn’t realized it until about thirty seconds after waking up from my pain med-induced haze, but I was scared.

Scared that I wouldn’t be who I needed to be for Annie and my child.

But all she had to do was yell about how good my ass looked and all of my worries seemed to slip away.

Sort of.

With a baby on the way, there were about fifteen thousand more worries that were about to be placed on my plate.

And I was scared shitless.

“Get her out of here,” Jennifer hissed.

I wanted to laugh.

“No,” I said.

She narrowed her eyes. “I’m not complaining that you’re keeping my kid. I’m not complaining that I’ll be leaving the only home I know. What I am asking you is that you give me this, and the first hour, and I’ll be gone.”

I wanted to argue.

But I also felt that maybe she did deserve it, not because she was a good person, but because she was having her child taken away from her, and she’d be spending at least the next ten years in prison.

“I’ll wait outside,” Annie whispered.

I watched her leave, wondering if I should follow her.

“Alright, ladies and gentlemen. Let’s have a baby,” the doctor called.

I nodded.

I was surprisingly nervous.

I didn’t wish any ill will upon Jennifer.

It made my stomach hurt that she had to go through a surgery to have my child because she could die if she didn’t.

And I’d lied earlier.

I was sympathetic to her situation.

I don’t know what I would’ve done to kick the habit of drugs. I know she went through the whole rehab thing when she first got pregnant, paying for it with the money she got from drugging and raping me.

I’ve never been in that type of situation.

But I do know that I wouldn’t have gone about it the same way she did.

I wouldn’t have put my body on the line for drugs. I wouldn’t trade my life for another’s.

And I wouldn’t have brought an innocent child into this world all because of a lie.

So I would give her the surgery by herself.

But that would be it, and then she’d be gone.

And it would be Annie, me and the baby.

Annie would be the one that my child thought of as his or her mother.

Annie would be the one the baby went to when it needed something.

I’d be there, too, of course, but the point I was trying to make was that Annie would be everything that Jennifer should have been.

Things moved quickly after that.

I’d arrived at the room in time to overhear the nurse and the doctor speaking with Jennifer about the baby’s heartbeat and how it would drop with every contraction.

I’d been the one to tell Jennifer that she needed to go ahead with the surgery seeing as she was extremely adamant about not having a caesarean section.

Once she’d agreed, the nurse and the doctor left the room to get ready for the emergency surgery, leaving me alone with Jennifer for the first time without anyone else in the room to overhear what I was about to tell her.

“You fucked up today,” I told her. “I had a way out for you. You had your entire life before you, a fresh start, and now you have nothing.”

Jennifer hung her head.

“I know. I didn’t have a choice, though. He’d have killed the baby,” Jennifer said.

“And how do you know that? Maybe if you’d given me the chance to fix this, you wouldn’t be spending the next ten years in an eight by eight cell,” I said, crossing my arms stiffly over my chest.