Dark Tide, page 15
“My phone died.” I pull it out and show him the blank screen. “What the hell's going on?”
He surveys up and down the hallway. “The explosion happened at a meeting between the four families—well, four families and the head of the Rose Cartel. Several people died. Even more are injured.”
“What? How did we not know about this happening?”
“That’s my fucking question, Gabs.” He leans into me. “This is the type of information that should've been provided to us long before the meeting ever took place so we could try to get someone inside or even a listening device.”
“How the hell was I supposed to know it was happening? You’re acting like I should have.”
His lips twist into a sneer. “It seems there are a lot of things you should know that you don’t. Or maybe you do and are trying to protect someone.” He raises a dark eyebrow at me in accusation.
“Fuck you, Robert.”
His hand lashes out and grabs my arm before I can move away. “No, Gabby, fuck you. Or should I say you’re fucking Orion Gates.”
“How did you—”
A slight grin curls the corners of his mouth. “Because I'm not an idiot, Gabs. It’s very interesting that the guy you’re banging ends up getting blown up with a bunch of mobsters, don’t you think?”
“I don’t know anything about that.”
It’s the truth. Rion never told me about any meeting. He never would have. If I didn’t know who Valentina was, there would have been no way for me to know the connection the guys have to her organization. It was blind luck that she was at the warehouse at the same time as me the other day.
“Sure, you don’t.”
“I don't know what you want me to do, Robert.”
“None of the victims of that bombing are leaving this hospital until I get some fucking answers. Make sure Orion Gates stays around for questioning.”
“I don't control what Rion does.”
He clenches his fingers tighter around my arm. “You better hope you can. For both our sakes and his.”
Shit.
“Gabby, are you okay?”
Robert releases my arm, and I jerk toward Nicki's voice while Robert rushes off in the opposite direction. She stands at the intersection of the hallways, her eyebrows raised in concern.
I force a smile. “Yeah, I'm fine.” I hustle to her, grab her arm, and drag her back toward Rion's room. “Did you find out anything about Warwick?”
She nods slowly. “Yeah, he’s fine.” She stops and holds me back. “Who was that guy you were arguing with back there? That’s the guy who came into the bar looking for you the other night.”
“He’s just somebody from my past I wasn’t expecting to see here. Nothing to worry about.”
It sounds like a lame lie even to my ears, but there’s nothing else I can say. This entire thing just got a hell of a lot more complicated. Robert knows there’s a connection between Rion and one of the Chicago families. He may not have made the leap from there to the fact that he’s one of the pirates who are working for one of the families, but it won’t take more than a few more dots before he’s there.
I don’t have much time.
Nicki watches me suspiciously.
I grab her arm before she can continue her line of questioning. “Come on, let’s go check on Rion.”
21
Rion
“You shouldn't have left the hospital.” Gabriella stands at the foot of my bed, her arms crossed over her chest defiantly, shoulders back, foot tapping.
If I didn't hurt so much all over, I might be tempted to try to fuck the stubborn out of her. Nothing else seems to be working to stop her relentless pursuit of driving me insane. It’s not bad enough that I was blown up, the woman seems intent on turning my headache from a concussion into a full-blown migraine.
We’ve been having the same argument since I left the hospital yesterday. Maybe she has a right to be pissed that I left without the doctor’s consent, but I couldn’t stay there. Not only do hospitals bring up memories I’ve been doing my best to keep in the past, but someone just tried to kill us, and that kind of threat can’t be ignored or taken lightly. I’m safer here at the warehouse than anywhere else in the world.
But this little fight with Gabs is getting tedious. Back and forth. Back and forth. Even through multiple hours on the drive home. Then we slept, and even now, when I’m clearly alive and breathing just fine a day after almost being incinerated, she won’t stop. The woman is insufferable, yet so damn fucking beautiful.
It terrifies me how much my heart sped up when I saw her enter the room. After the chaos of the explosion and aftermath, I hadn’t really realized how badly I wanted to see her and hold her.
The way she's been hovering over me nonstop, acting like I'm some baby bird who needs to be taken care of, is getting annoying, though. “I told you, sugar, I'm fine. I've been through worse and came out on the other side.”
Iraq was so much worse than this. Maybe discussing that with her the other day makes her think I plan on suddenly becoming some emotional sieve, willing to spew out everything I’m feeling.
Not happening.
She may be easy to talk to and manage to get things out of me no one else in this world ever has, but even if I wanted to discuss this with her, I can’t. I’m not about to drag her into the dangerousness of my world.
I smile at her in what I hope is a reassuring way. “I'll be fine and back to one hundred percent in a few days.”
She scowls at me.
Christ, I want to kiss that off her lips.
Her fists clench at her sides. “And you're not going to tell me what happened?”
I run a hand back through my hair. “Come here,” I pat the mattress beside me, “because I'm not gonna go through this again, sugar.”
She presses her lips together and approaches me slowly, then sits next to me. Her hand brushes over the bandage on my chest that covers the spot where I took a piece of shrapnel and needed twenty stitches. Another scar to add to a long list of them.
“There's something you need to understand. Whatever this,” I motion between us, “is…means a lot to me.” I pause for a second before I continue. “So much, it terrifies me.”
Her eyes soften slightly at my confession. One I didn’t even know I was going to make.
I give her a little half-smile. “But if we’re going to do this. Wherever this might go, you need to understand there will be things I cannot tell you. Things you can’t know about. There’ll be questions I can never answer.”
She twists her lips in displeasure. “And if I'm not okay with that?”
I don’t need any time to consider the answer. “Then we can't do this.”
Damn. I didn't expect those words to hurt so much.
I’ve had a lot of women in my bed before, but things have never gone beyond a night or two of pure physical connection. This…with Gabriella…it’s so much more. The pain at the thought of losing her hurts more than my injuries do at the moment, but I also have a duty to the guys.
The bombing changes everything. I can’t even consider leaving now. Not when there’s a threat like this out there—someone bold enough to try to take out all the families at once. That’s a threat not just to Valentina but to all of us via our connection to her. I can’t abandon the guys when they need me the most. The bombing just puts my head back in the game—for however long it takes to sort this mess out.
“You’re in danger.” Her words are simple and direct, and she doesn’t look away when she says them. She has to suspect something more than just fishing is going on here. Gabriella is too smart to believe that’s all we do, but she also has to know she can’t ask questions.
It’s a hard truth that Grace, Everly, and Eva still struggle to accept. They know more than they probably should, and if Gabs sticks around long enough, I’ll have to reveal part of the truth to her. But not now. Not when things between us are undefined, and things with the crew are so hostile and dangerous.
I press a kiss to her temple. “I know how to take care of myself, sugar.”
She runs her fingers over the bandage on my forehead that hides the stitches there. “It doesn’t look like it right now. I hate seeing my boyfriend in so much pain.”
“Boyfriend?” I raise an eyebrow then immediately regret it.
Shit. That fucking hurt.
Her mouth opens and closes. “Shit, I didn’t mean—”
“I don’t think anyone has referred to me as their boyfriend since high school.”
Actually, even then, I don’t think I used that word. I’ve never been a one-woman type of guy. The word should make me want to run, but instead, it sends a surprising warmth spreading through my body. It's a welcome change from the pain I’ve been suffering since the explosion.
“I’m sorry.” She shakes her head, embarrassment darkening her cheeks. “It just came out.”
I press my lips to hers to shut her up. Her rambling apology is adorable and really makes me wish I didn’t hurt so much right now.
She pulls away and takes my face in her hands. “I can’t lose you, Rion. You’re not caught up in anything that could get you killed, are you?”
It’s almost like she's begging me to come clean. I’ve seen the other guys go through this, seen them all fall in love and lose their ever-loving minds. I can see how it happens. Why they reveal our secrets to these women. Because when she looks at me like this, I want to tell her the truth. I want her to know what I do and understand why I do it and can’t stop. Or at least, can’t stop now.
“The reality is, there will always be danger if you’re with me, sugar. Can you handle that?”
She worries her bottom lip between her teeth, almost like she’s considering coming clean about something. It pops free, and she leans in and kisses me gently. “I’m in. Whatever this is. I’m in.”
I wrap my arm around her and drag her against me. This kiss isn’t soft and sweet. It’s not the kind of kiss I should be giving her after almost dying in that warehouse. But I need to feel alive, and nothing does that more than being inside Gabriella.
“Whoa! Shut the door, guys!”
Gabs jerks away from me, and we both turn to glare at Preacher standing in the door with a hand over his eyes.
I adjust my erection under the sheet and growl. “What the hell do you want?”
Preacher eyes Gabriella, and she quickly takes the hint.
She presses another quick peck to my lips and stands. “I’ll go see if the girls are back from visiting E.” She pushes past Preacher and smiles at him.
He gives her a nod then closes the door behind him. “I never expected you to have a nurse.”
I snort and chuckle. “Me, either.”
Accepting help from anyone is so against my nature, but I can put away my pride if it means having Gabriella’s hands all over me while I’m laid up.
Preacher runs a hand through his hair and glances at the door warily. He isn’t prone to stressing out about things unless there’s a reason, so that look tightens my stomach.
“What’s that look for?”
“I don't know, man. There's just something about her.”
Fucking eh.
I thought we were all done arguing about her. After the blowup, when she was here last week, I really thought they’d finally accepted she’s going to be a part of my life and were just going to leave us be.
My fists clench. “Did you come in here to give me shit about Gabriella again? Because I am not—”
He raises his hands in front of him. “No. I wanted to update you on the bombing.”
“What's going on?”
We haven’t had a chance to sit down together to discuss what happened. When I finally managed to drag myself up off the concrete after the explosion, it was utter chaos in the warehouse. The table was gone, blown to pieces by whatever explosive was under it. Bodies lay strewn across the vast space, some moving, many not.
Blood pooled under some of the victims. Rose’s group and the Albanians seem to have been the worst hit, though. I counted at least three of Michael’s men who had visible fatal injuries, and Rose was bent over Sofia like she was in real trouble, too.
I didn’t have time to do a real assessment of everyone else, though. The crew was my top priority. Warwick, Cutter, and Valentina were all at least moving, but E was down, and the blood coming from his neck indicated he was critical. Tending to him meant I didn’t have any time to consider anyone else or even begin to explore who might have set the explosive.
Preacher leans against the door. “The most recent update I’ve been able to find is that eight are dead. Three of Michael’s guys, two Russians, one of the Irish, and two of Rose’s men.”
“Sofia?”
“She’s in critical condition. Shrapnel lacerated some internal organs. They had to do surgery.”
“Shit. I bet Rose isn’t taking that well.”
Preacher snorts and shakes his head. “No, he is not. He’s already calling for heads on stakes, even though we have no idea who set the bomb.”
“So, it was a bomb?”
I figured it would have to be some sort of set explosive. It came from the center of the room. The table. If it were a gas leak or something related to the operations in the warehouse, it wouldn’t have originated there.
“As far as we can tell, yes. I’ve hacked Chicago P.D. files, but there hasn’t been much turned in yet. I’m still working on the FBI hack, too. When Sofia left, we were banging on the back door. I’ll be in soon. It may help with this because I’m sure they’ll be all over this given who was involved.”
“How did Michael find out about the meeting and get in there, anyway? I thought we had the building secured.”
He shrugs. “I thought we did, too. There weren’t any external security cameras, so I can’t tell you when or how he arrived.”
“None of this makes any sense. The only people who would have had any reason to set a bomb were there themselves.”
“Unless someone wanted to throw suspicion off themselves.”
Definitely a possibility.
“Anyway,” he pushes off the door, “I just wanted to give you the update. Can I get you anything? A beer?”
I wave him off. “Nah, I’m good. I’m just going to try to sleep.”
Preacher snorts and shakes his head. “You realize I haven't seen you with a drink in over a week.”
A week?
I can't remember the last time I even went one day without having a drink.
He can’t be right?
I think back over the days before the explosion. Days I spent lost in Gabriella then worked on planning for the meeting while I thought about her endlessly.
Shit.
It seems I found a new addiction.
22
Gabriella
The door to Preacher and Everly's room is almost totally closed this time, but I inspect the empty hallway and give it a quick nudge. It swings open easily, exposing the lair of the crew’s computer genius.
“Everly?” I'm not sure if she's back from visiting E in the hospital with the rest of the girls or not. But the last thing I want is to get caught in here, so calling out just in case is a good way to cover my ass just in case she returned while I was in with Rion.
Preacher could be back at any time. I need to work fast.
Really fast.
If Rion won’t come clean with me about what’s really going on, I’m going to have to figure it out myself, before Robert manages to set whatever his plan is in motion.
Our confrontation at the hospital made it clear Rion is on his radar, and Robert won’t be happy that I let Rion leave before anyone was able to question him. It’s not like I could have stopped him even if I wanted to—the man is almost three times my size. But Robert won’t care about that. He gave me an order, and I ignored it.
It’s only going to make it look like I’m conspiring with the very people we’re after here. I need to find out what the crew knows about the bombing and what they’re up to. It’s the only hope I have of saving my own ass…and maybe Rion’s.
I rush over to the computer and tap the keyboard to turn off the screensavers. Computers definitely aren't my thing. Ninety-nine percent of what's on the screen is nothing but gibberish to me as I scroll over the multiple monitors in front of me.
Come on. Come on. Give me something.
Lines of code fill the screens. Code that means absolutely nothing. But then, words start to pop out amid the various gibberish. Ice rushes through my veins, and I reread them.
Great Lakes Pirates. Marcella Marie. Wanderer.
I swallow through my dry throat and lean in closer to ensure I’m not seeing things wrong.
Holy shit.
Names. Dates. Casefile titles. There’s no doubt—Preacher is hacking into the FBI.
It shouldn’t surprise me, really. With a setup like this, I knew he wasn’t someone just dabbling—plus, Rion said he worked for the CIA. But working for the government is a hell of a lot different than hacking the FBI. It’s a go to prison for the rest of your life or maybe even face execution major crime. Though no more so than murdering people on ships, I guess. Any of these guys could go down for both, regardless of who pulled the trigger. It’s a major conspiracy, one tied to organized crime through Valentina.
This is so damn huge. And there’s no way for me to tell if he got in or not.
What does he already know?
If I have any chance of getting out of this warehouse alive, I can't get caught in here. These guys aren’t the type to sit and let me calmly explain what happened, which means, the screensaver needs to be running by the time Preacher gets back so he doesn’t know I was here.
I jump up from the chair and race back to the door with my heart in my throat. As if there hasn’t been enough going on, now I have to deal with this. They could have nothing, or they could have everything. Either way, it’s the final move for me. It’s time for me to get out. I open the door and step out into the hall just as Preacher exits Rion's room.
