34

"So, when are you going to tell Justice?"

I clear my throat and tug on my earlobe. Jason's voice echoes in my head and bounces off a few scenarios that lie in wait. Which one will win? What will be my little fox's reaction? Fuck, I gotta tell her. I don't want to, not after everything she's been through. I can tell she's exhausted and that all she wants to do is reunite with her family and bask in the comfort of knowing they're all safe. But if I don't tell her, she'll slice my balls off for assuming I have the right to keep shit from her. Even if the unknown will keep her safe.

I clear my throat. "There's a situation you need to know about before we get you home."

Niki turns to me as if the word home refers to a place that is unknown to me, and I wonder if she was hoping to head out to her ranch instead of the trailer. Her curiosity quickly absolves any and all her thoughts. She's changed into baggy gray sweats, a t-shirt, and Chucks. Apparently Olivia had thought about a wardrobe change, and she made sure to stock the getaway van with bags for a change of clothes for everyone but myself. A getaway van that no one bothered to tell me about, by the fucking way.

Niki sits next to me. Her best friend directly across, while my cousin argues with the driver about which route is the best one to take to avoid the late night traffic. Charles sits quietly, staring out of the window. He looks dazed and bored, but I know he has an ear on every little thing in his surroundings.

"Just tell her already." Jason's voice rings again and I rip the earpiece out, then stuff it in my pocket.

A strangled look crosses Niki's features. "Jule?"

"No! Jule is fine. He's great, actually. Jason had him picked up, and he's at Liv's house now."

Her brows knit together. "Why was he… what's going on?"

"Noah was, uh…" I swallow. Had I anticipated Noah being an even bigger idiot than he already was, perhaps this wouldn't have happened. "Apprehended."

In front of us, Jasmin snorts. A ‘who gives a fuck' sort of gesticulation. But Niki's eyes grow wide with fear. "By who?"

I wish I could tell her he's behind bars again. Getting him out of jail is easy. This, well… this is different. "Vork's men. He forced his way into one of their well-known establishments. Made a scene, shot his gun a few times."

Threw some names that he assumed would get him out of the situation he'd buried himself in—my name, to be exact. But I'm not going to tell her that. If Noah thought blaming me would get him off of Vork's radar, he quickly found out how wrong he was. Vork can give two shits when it comes to weeping, finger-pointing men.

"How? When? And where is he now?"

The panic in her voice strikes at a part hidden deep inside my chest cavity and a pang of… I don't know what holds the ventricles of my heart in a vise grip. I remind myself of Niki's feelings toward Noah. I always knew she cared. I focus on the platonic aspect of that love, and remind myself that my fucking ego isn't important. She's worried about the dumbass, and if she wants to run to his rescue, we'll do just fucking that.

The car is silent.

"He's going to need reinforcements. Noah was drunk and yelling about all sorts of shit. I didn't know if it would implicate you somehow, so I had Jason send someone to pick Jule up, just in case. Noah's… being held." To put it lightly.

"You're not seriously considering going to rescue him?" Jasmin leans toward Niki.

I already know the answer, but it seems everyone in the car, even the fucking nosy ass driver, perk their ears up.

"I can't just leave him. What about his mom? He's all she's got. Noah is my friend, Jas. I have to go."

"I take it that Noah is the ex." Olivia turns completely and elevates one crisp brow at me.

I grind my teeth, and the bones in my neck pop loudly when I pivot my head. It was a mistake to turn away from Liv. My eyes meet Charles' and the look of awe coupled with his stupid grin is enough to send me to my fucking grave.

"You guys don't have to come with me—"

Jasmin rolls her eyes. "Right, like we'd leave you to resolve that fucker's problem."

Niki buries her face into her hands, and I wrap an arm around her shoulders. Her breaths are sharp yet hollow–as if she's finally about to let go and break down in front of everyone. But she doesn't. My heat envelops her and her body relaxes into mine.

"How bad is it?"

Her big brown eyes stare into mine and the need to travel back in time to beat sense into Noah twists my insides to knots. Son of a bitch. "Last his tail informed, pretty bad. Vork knows he burned down a small warehouse of supplies. He doesn't respond lightly to betrayal."

Niki snorts. "Neither do I but… shit. What do we do?"

"Vork isn't there. He never lingers after delivering a death sentence."

I want to put a dent in Charles's face. Why the fuck does he think uttering the words death sentence is a good way to go? Seriously, who the fuck is this guy and why is he still here?

"Death sentence?" Niki searches my face. "We have to get him out of there."

I choose to ignore the worry in her tone and instead pull out my phone. Jason was smart enough to deliver our devices along with the getaway van. I tap on the link he provided and hand my phone to the driver. I knew this was exactly how shit would play out once she was told, but it's not something I can keep.

"Do I get a voice in this? I'm not really in the mood for another search and rescue."

Jasmin nods, agreeing with Charles, but Niki glares at him. "We'll gladly drop you off on the side of the road. But that just means you'll miss out on the ride to paradise."

What? What fucking paradise?

Charles seems to know exactly what Niki eludes to, and he responds by leaning back and lighting another cigarette. His silence is filled with more vexation than if he would've spoken his retort. Not like I would ever tell Niki, but I agree with the fucker–I don't feel like going off to rescue Noah's dumb ass after the shit we just went through. I don't know if I want to mentally fist bump Charles or kick his ass out of the van.

"I can practically hear your thoughts, but you won't get rid of me that easily, officer. Justice and I have unfinished business," Charles says, but he doesn't even turn to face me. He's still staring out the window, the cigarette smoke covers the space around him like a gray clouded aura.

"Who the fuck are you?"

Olivia giggles to herself, amused by my jealous bout. But Niki grabs my hand and squeezes it, and I turn to face her serious glare. "Not here… not now," she says, and it sounds like she's fucking lecturing me.

I breathe in sharply and clear my throat. If everything would've gone smoothly, I would be reviewing Jason's report on Charles and learning exactly who the fuck he is and how he connects to Niki. Instead, I'm riding in a fucking van with him to rescue another idiot from my woman's life. Shit just gets better and better. I glance at my phone sitting atop the van's dashboard and regret not asking Jason if he managed to dig anything up. The uncertainty is practically gnawing at me, an out of control and painful spasm tearing at my fucking tendons, and I wriggle both my wrists and shoulders in an attempt to rid myself of the sickening feeling.

Charles chuckles, and when I look up, he's still staring out of the window. Yet, somehow, I know he's fucking laughing at me. Son of a bitch. I open my mouth to spit some obscenity at him when Jason's trusty driver interrupts.

"We're almost there. Want me to park out back?"

"It's late. The bar will be mostly empty, with only their usuals present. I think it should be a simple recovery," Charles offers. He inhales a puff of smoke and it seeps out of his nose in one long drag before he flicks his cigarette out the window.

"Out front," I offer, but it comes out harsh and full of fire.

Niki turns to read my expression, and I lean my head back to hide my misplaced frustration. I don't want to think about the men in her life and what they mean to her. I know what she feels for me, even if she doesn't understand or fully accept it. My green-eyed monster has no place here. I force him to take a backseat and sneer from that angle–the possessive and overprotective discontent pours over me like a suffocating blanket of flames. Fuck.

It isn't until Niki leans into me and lowers my shoulder to her lips, so that she may whisper in my ear, that I realize I was squeezing my eyes shut so tight, my eyeballs were beginning to hurt.

"What do we do once we're there?"

Her eyes are full of fear, and she stares into mine in hopeful prayer. Their doleful look tug a desire in me to gather her in my arms and repair her dejected heart. I understand she loves Noah, he's like family. But I'm also aware of the fact that she chose me and that she could never want him in the same way she needs me. I also knew his relentless betrayal wouldn't win her hatred but only alert her to the inevitable truth–she couldn't love Noah the way he wanted. Regardless of Noah and whoever the fuck Charles is, her worry supersedes all of my misplaced emotions. I'll do whatever the fuck she needs.

"We get him out," I tell her.

The determination in my voice lights her eyes up and she breathes out a sigh of relief and smiles. It doesn't reach her eyes, but I know I"ve offered enough comfort to ease some tension. Niki presses her cheek to my shoulder, and when I straighten to look forward, Charles is watching us. His brows knit together, and something about his look tells me he's a man who both understands pain and love, yet it's a vacant glance. It isn't directed toward Niki, I realize. Interesting.

Charles was right. The bar's interior is mostly vacant, aside from three patrons and a barman. Music from an old jukebox playing alternative rock from the nineties mixes with the noise from one of the two televisions playing a kickboxing match. Two men and the bartender debate on the match, enthralled by it, while another is passed out at a nearby table. Charles points toward a beaded curtain and we walk through it. The curtain separates the small and dark lounge area from another poorly lit backroom.

No one notices our entrance, which I wasn't expecting. I'm not complaining, though, since I was unable to stop Jasmin and Olivia from joining us, and I don't want to think about the hell I'm going to get from Jason. I motion for my cousin to stand guard near the doorway so that she may let us know of anyone entering the area, and I'm grateful she complies without a fight. Charles continues to lead us through until we hear another television playing the same boxing match.

A man with his back to us sits on a couch, eyes glued to the fight while Noah's beaten body is strapped to a chair, slumped forward. He isn't moving. Charles quietly walks up to the dumbass who's supposed to be on watch and swiftly twists his neck in one silent motion. The guy immediately slumps down to his death.

Charles turns around and shrugs. "Seemed quicker."

Niki rushes over to Noah, her hands hover over him, like she doesn't know where to place them. His clothes are in shreds, he's covered in blood, and in desperate need of stitches, and perhaps reconstructive surgery. He looks like he's been through seven hells. He's been stabbed in multiple places and beaten beyond recognition. Jasmin covers her mouth and stays frozen in place.

I've never seen Niki cry. Not when I took her home after she spent the night in handcuffs being ridiculed by cops, or when I found her in the warehouse, when she put Noah's heart through a shredder, or even when I told her about her parents' killers. But silent tears fall down her pale cheeks now.

"Noah," she whispers, and the beaten fool groans, as if awakened by her voice.

Niki falls to her knees before him, and I walk over and take the blade Charles hands me. There's a rope tugging his arms back and connecting them by the wrists, and when I cut them off, Noah slumps forward into Niki's arms.

She falls back into a sitting position and holds him in a hug. The cry released from her throat shatters me into a million fucking pieces.

"Justice?"

Noah's voice is weak and barely audible, but he unmistakably spoke. Niki sets him down gently and brushes his hair off his forehead.

"Yea, Noie, it's me."

Noah tries to look around, but he's only got one working eye and it's drowning in his own blood. Fuck, he isn't going to make it. I don't think Niki gets that yet. I pull out my phone and dial it in.

"Hey, Mike, send a bus to Time Out on Aberdeen Street."

I hang up before he floods me with his curiosity, and when I look back down, Noah's eyes find me. I think he rolls his one working eye, but he closes it instead and gasps before coughing and spewing up blood.

"I'm sorry," he manages.

Niki shushes him and presses the back of her hand against his cheek. "Save your energy. Dylan called for help and they'll be here soon. You're going to be fine."

"I'm not, but it's okay. I"m as good as dead without you, anyway."

"Noah, don't say that—"

Noah nods in my direction. "He knows what I mean."

I absolutely do. Niki gulps back a sob, and I hold my fucking breath when she brings her face down and leans her forehead against his. She stays there, sobbing and clutching onto the tattered threads of his shirt.

"Kee… keep an–" Noah gasps and shudders in her grip. "Eye on my… mom for me–"

There"s a gurgling sound in his throat, followed by a hissing sound.

"His lung is punctured and can't expand. He's dying–"

"Shut the fuck up," I snarl at Charles. The man has no fucking filter. Niki sobs while she looks for a place to put her hands, but his entire body is mutilated. There's nothing we can do.

Noah lets out one last struggling breath before his body gives in and succumbs to his injuries. I take one step toward Niki when Jasmin stops me.

"Let me," she says with a soft shake of her head.

Her eyes are brimmed with tears, and I nod my okay. Jasmin bends down and wraps my little wounded fox into her arms, and they both slump down near Noah's lifeless body.

"It's my fault. I should've listened to him. He told me they threatened him."

Jasmin smooths Niki's hair off her face and then holds her. "Justice, don't say that. You know it's not your fault. Noah made mistakes and unfortunately chose to work for a criminal. Vork did this–not you."

The sound of a siren shrieks in the near distance and Charles lights his fiftieth cigarette. "I'll wait in the van. I'm sorry, Justice. Truly."

He bobs his head, acknowledging me on the way out, and I stand there, like a fucking useless statue, until the paramedics rush in.