Adrian took the cell. There were several messages in the OGs chat from Wilma.
Help
Attack
Bowling alley parking lot
“Are you sure it’s not Alfred again?” he asked, pulling his pants up. Autocorrect could be playing a trick on them.
“Try calling,” Rachel answered.
“Busy,” he said after trying multiple times.
That seemed to alarm Rachel even more. “Their line is never busy.”
While Adrian had the cell in his hand, a call came in. “Mike,” he answered, “talk.”
“I got a call from the OGs. They didn’t speak, but there were shouts and sounds of fighting. I’m going now.”
“See you there,” Adrian said. Then he turned to Rachel. “Not Alfred.”
“Shit, shit, shit,” she mumbled as she put her shoes on.
They dashed out of the house and into the car, and they exited the driveway, tires screeching.
When they arrived at the parking lot, Monti was down but trying to get up. Ash and XL stood over him, protecting him while fending off three assailants. There were six other thugs, but they had either been knocked out or were writhing on the ground. His kids looked all bloody and wobbly, but they were still standing. And, by the looks of it, they were winning. Mike’s training had been pretty effective.
Rachel broke into a run toward them, but Adrian stopped her. “It’s their fight.”
One of the assailants grabbed a chain from the ground as he got on his feet. Adrian stepped on his hand until he let go, wailing. “Let’s keep it fair, don’t you think?” Then Adrian kicked him in the face. Tito had sent nine men to deal with three. Dick move.
At that moment, a Hummer arrived, and Mike, Josh, and Wata jumped out of it. They ran toward the kids but, realizing what was going on, they also didn’t intervene.
“The OGs?” Rachel asked, glancing around.
Adrian pointed at a beam of rapidly flashing light. Strobe light? Wilma had a tactical flashlight and was trying to point it at the assailants’ faces. One was momentarily blinded by it and turned around, disoriented. Ash used the opportunity to knock him down.
The assholes must have realized their odds were pretty bad now that only two of them were standing, and they began retreating from XL, Ash, and Monti. To be fair, his kids were more crouching than standing, but still. They stood straighter than any one of the gangsters.
Adrian looked until he found Tito’s second-in-command. He was scrambling back to his feet when Adrian grabbed him by the collar and pulled him up. He turned to XL. “Do you want to press charges?”
The kids glanced at each other and shook their heads. “Nah,” XL said. “We believe this settles the matter.”
“Fine.” Adrian stood very close to Tito’s second, so close he could smell the stench from his bloodied mouth. “Listen to me, motherfucker. You got your pound of flesh. This ends here. From now on, you’d better pray nothing happens to these kids, because if they even trip and scrape their knees, I’m coming after you. XL, Ash, and Monti are out. For good. Nod if you understand.”
The goon nodded, and Adrian let go of him. Tito’s second whistled to gather his men, most of them limping, and they got into their cars and left.
By then, Mike and his crew were helping the kids, along with Rachel and the OGs.
“We have still a long way to go, but you guys made me proud,” Mike congratulated them. He patted XL’s back. “Let’s clean you up before Sara sees you and kicks my ass too.”
“We’re so sorry, Monti,” Wilma apologized. “This self-defense flashlight they sold us is tricky. Sorry we blinded you. We were aiming for the other guy.”
So that was the reason Monti had been down and looked like someone had socked him good.
“This wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t confiscated our tasers,” Wilma grumbled, pointing accusingly at Adrian. “And our air gun.”
“Don’t worry,” Monti said, his tone conciliating. “I should have protected my flank better. You did help us.”
Adrian doubted it, but his kids were too polite to offend the grannies.
Wilma smiled at Monti and then turned to Adrian, visibly offended. “We would have been able to incapacitate half of them with the tasers, and the kids wouldn’t be this hurt. Shame on you.”
“Or you would have tased the kids. Or each other,” he muttered. “And—ouch!” he let out as Rachel elbowed him. “What?”
Her eyes narrowed on him. Okay, time to shut up. “Let’s get the kids patched up.”
Chapter Sixteen
“You don’t have to move out, XL,” Adrian insisted as they got into his car. “I love having you around. You can stay with me as long as you want.”
It would mean Rachel and he would have to continue sneaking around to spend time together, but she would be the first one to get pissed off if XL left because of her.
“Of course you love having me around,” XL replied, putting on his sunglasses. “But I’m eighteen, man. I need my space. My freedom.”
XL could play it as cool as he wanted, but Adrian wasn’t fooled; XL was leaving so that Adrian and Rachel would have their space. “Mike is a tough landlord. And the OGs have keys to that place. You won’t have any privacy. Not to mention that if Mike catches you with Sara there, you’ll be in deep shit.”
“I know. It’s not a question of privacy. I’ll be working for Mike at the gym. Renting his upstairs apartment is the perfect solution for everyone.”
The kids were done with their court-ordered classes, but Rachel had hired the three of them. XL was going to work part-time at the gym and at the garage while he studied for his GED. Rachel, Alden, and the Haddicans had done him a world of good—especially Sara.
“Okay,” Adrian sighed, giving up. “I’ll help you with the move next week.”
XL laughed. “Thank you, Sheriff, but I think I can manage one duffel bag by myself. Mike’s apartment is furnished, so I won’t need anything.”
Whatever. He was still going to go to Ikea with Rachel and buy some things for the kiddo.
“Either way,” Adrian pointed out, “you’ve agreed to come with me to my grandfather’s twice a month to take care of the lawn. You’re not allowed to blow me off.”
“Yeah, yeah. Start the damn car and let’s get to his place already. Why the hell are you dragging your feet and wasting time?”
Was it that obvious? Grunting, Adrian started the engine and headed for his grandfather’s.
“How bad can it be?” XL asked, sounding intrigued. “Does he run after you and beat the shit out of you?”
Adrian shook his head. “He needs a walker. Can’t run.”
“Does he yell and insult you?”
He shook his head again. “He carries around an oxygen tank. He gets short of breath if he talks too much.”
“Does he steal from you or threaten to kick you out if you eat his food?”
Again, no.
“Then what the fuck, man?” XL asked, looking confused. “He’s a thousand times better than any of the stepfathers I had.”