Once the sound of the door closing reached my ears, I knew the other three were out of the warehouse and on the way to the car. I didn’t have much time. My back slammed against the wall, and I slid down with James’s back to my chest, both of us on the ground. He struggled, but I had control and wanted to get this over with. With James’s entire weight on top of me, my lungs crushed, making it harder to breathe. I fought for air and the moment to pass, and as my arm around his neck tightened, I counted down the seconds before he was out.
“Oliver,” he rasped, his free hand clawing at my arm around his neck.
With my cover blown, my eyes briefly closed in an attempt to detach myself from the situation emotionally. James had been one of mine. I trained him. I was there during his drunken episodes when he confessed his fears and weaknesses. I used to be someone he looked up to. And, here I was, the one who had two proper grips on him at the moment, one on his neck, the other on his arm behind his back, and I twisted him to the side to ease him off my heaving chest so I could gather enough oxygen. “Stop fighting me. It will be easier for you.”
“He’s going to kill Adrian.”
I’d barely made out his gravelly statement and eased up my hold around his neck. “What are you talking about?”
“Dex,” he said in a collected breath. “Adrian and I know too much … Dex never planned on taking us with him. Once you finish off Ghost … Adrian’s as good as dead. I heard everything, mate. I didn’t have a choice … but,” he croaked, “there’s still time for Adrian.”
“Know your target, you always have to be ten steps ahead,” I’d repeated to Dex, to my boys, to Oscar. Except I hadn’t been the one ten steps ahead, I was far behind and just now catching up as it hit me all at once, and I let go of James.
Dex had planned on killing off my three boys all along.
Adrian, James, and Reggi never stood a chance.
An enraged tornado touched down inside me, and I stood, throwing my fist into the cement wall. Over and over, my fist pounded, hand deforming, but I couldn’t feel a bloody thing. James pushed me forward, and my body slammed against the wall before I flipped around and turned my anger on him, and with one clean hit against his skull, James fell back. His massive body thumped against the concrete floor with a loud echo mocking me.
I waited a few minutes to cool off before heading out of the warehouse and back to the car.
Sliding into the passenger seat, Dex was leaned back behind the wheel, flipping through stacks of cash. “What took you so long?” he muttered, and I turned back to see the black sack over the BOG’s head with Smith beside him, a gun clenched in his hand over his lap.
“James is strong, gave me a run for my money,” I said, casually, holding my fist out in front of me to examine the damage. It wasn’t the time to confront him, not with his mate behind me and a dodgy drug dealer at his side. Smith could very well be on his hit list too, or the only man he wanted to bring along on the ride to rule.
And the entire way back to the Link’s house, I kept my mouth closed and eyes out the window, devising a plan of my own. It was too late to save Reggi, and James had made the impulsive decision to switch teams. Good for him, but where did that leave Adrian? My only option was to get him out before I’d pull the trigger on Ghost.
The house had always been a large heap of trash, but the neglect only worsened since I’d been here last. Empty bottles and take-out rubbish scattered across tables and counters, and more holes decorated the walls meant for hanging pictures of loved ones. Dex sat the BOG over a chair and tied him up. Once the BOG was secure, Dex turned his attention to me. “You can go now, baby O. I got this.”
I pulled bottled water from the fridge, unscrewed the cap, and took a gulp with a raised brow. “No,” I chuckled, “I’m staying if that’s all right with you.” Dex planned on exhuming details from the BOG, and it was time for me to be in the know. With a flick of the wrist, I pointed the base of the bottle at him. “Carry on.”
For half an hour, I grimaced as Dex tortured the man for information, demanding names, locations, and dealings of their boss—the BOG’s leader. Dex wanted to know who was in charge, and his sick, menacing smiles only confirmed he was enjoying it as my stomach rolled from the heart-wrenching screams. By the time the man passed out from the pain, Leigh had strolled through the door with my mum on her tail.
Rolling my head back, I reached for my bottled water sitting over the counter beside the whiskey. I would need something heavier to deal with the two of them, but the only thing I wanted was to be back home with Mia, sober. Dex greeted my mum with a smack on her backside as Leigh approached me with a smile, and I stood from the barstool to leave.
“Holy shit, what happened to your hand?” she asked, taking my injured hand into hers. The blood had since dried, and I couldn’t move my fingers without searing pain shooting up my arm. It wasn’t broken. It was shattered.
I pulled my hand from her grasp. “I’m fine.”
Dex washed his hands in the sink, looking between us. “The BOG isn’t talking.”
“I’m told I have a way with people. Perhaps I could give it a go,” I offered.
My mum approached the kitchen, glancing over at me as she wrapped her arm around Dex’s waist, and he flashed her a short-lived smile before his eyes returned to mine. In an instant, the mask he’d wore dropped, and his expression turned cold with a void. “He’ll be out for a while. You should go. Better not keep the wife waiting.”
My mum’s head jerked to mine when Leigh gasped.
“You married her?” Leigh asked, a frown marring her features.
I dropped my elbow over the table, and pain skyrocketed from my fingertips to my shoulder. I winced, saying, “Of course, I married her.”
“Yeah,” Dex chuckled, “and that’s the problem because the only person you should be committed to is me.”
“Oliver?” my mum asked, her voice small and careful, and it sent my heart into my throat. “You got married?”
“It wasn’t what she said, Mia, it was the way she said it,” I explained as Mia wrapped my hand. She was sitting over our bathroom counter as I stood between her legs with my arm out between us. “Four years, Mia. For four fucking years, and she didn’t visit me once. Hell, she testified against me when everything went down with Oscar and Brad. Even when I saw her at the funeral, she could barely look at me. But as soon as she found out I got married …” I shook my head, “it was almost as if she cared.”
Gently, Mia pulled my double-wrapped fist to her lips, kissing my knuckles lightly. “All better.”
A grin fought through my perplexity. “Thank you.”
“What happened after she said that?”
Breath rushed out of me, and I lifted a shoulder. “Left without saying anything.” I leaned my good hand over the edge of the counter beside Mia. “You know, she lost touch with reality a long time ago. Paranoia, hallucinations … it almost killed us both, and all I ever wanted was for her to quit using and get help. But, Mia, that look in her eyes tonight—”
“You think she stopped?”
Pushing off the counter, I scratched the back of my head. “I don’t know. Maybe Oscar dying woke her up. Or maybe I’m that six-year-old again, getting his hopes up. I can’t be sure, but I can’t trust her either.” Every time I saw her, torment broke out inside me. Multiple times, Mum had tried to kill me, and those were memories that could ever be erased. Time and time again, Mum had proved she was a hopeless, incurable disease, one I’d never want in our future. But the way she looked at me …