Ex's and O'S (27 page)

“How could you do this?” Josh asked in a trembling voice. Adam watched Lukowski

glance at Josh, imagined the anguish and betrayal the twisted fuck saw in Josh’s green eyes.

Saw the moment Lukowski spotted it.

The man smiled. “Les asked the same thing before I kicked him in the head and left him for Rollins’ men to finish off, if—” he glanced at Adam then back at Charlene. “If the kick didn’t kill him, that is. I should have thought of that before I hit the same temple I’d used my brass knuckles on earlier. Whoops.” Lukowski shrugged. “Either way, I called Rollins and he’ll be sending someone to finish Les off.” Another shrug. “Maybe he already has.”

Adam stumbled, agony tearing through him as if someone had gripped both ends of

his spine and torn it out through the front of his body. Everything hurt, although that was too mild a word to describe what he felt. He was dimly aware of hands grabbing him, arms sliding around him and pulling him against a big body he’d felt pressed close to his before, although only on a dance floor.

“Les’ll be fine,” Nick murmured in his ear. “Help is on the way,” he added when

Charlene began tearing into Lukowski with a startling ferocity. Something small and hard was pressed against the lower part of Adam’s back, tapped until Adam grunted as he recognised the object as Nick’s cell phone.

“You pull that trigger and you’ll never get away with it!” Charlene went on. “You think the cops won’t figure it out when they show up here and there’s blood and stuff everywhere? You backstabbing fool—”

EX’S AND O’S

Bailey Bradford

176

Lukowski’s face was contorted into an angry scowl as he raised the gun to level it at Charlene’s forehead. “It’d be worth it to shut you the fuck up!”

Two things happened simultaneously then. Nick shoved him down hard as he lunged

forward, and Josh leapt, the man a pink panted blur as he threw himself on Charlene.

Lukowski shouted and fired off a shot, the sound slamming against Adam’s ear drums as he hit the floor. He rolled and scrambled to his knees, a panicked gaze zeroing in on the still pile of bodies that were Josh and Charlene.

His stomach jolted and Adam screamed, fear and fury vying for dominance. He

surged up and started to go to them when Lukowski flung Nick off, knocking him into the entertainment centre. CD’s and DVD’s showered down on Nick’s head and shoulders as Lukowski began pushing himself up.

Adam dived for the gun at the same time Lukowski did, knowing if he failed to reach it, they were all dead except for that bastard. He flung an elbow out, catching Lukowski under the chin with enough force the man’s head flew back.

As tempting as it was to slam his hand into Lukowski’s wind pipe, Adam didn’t. Even panicked he knew they needed Lukowski alive if they wanted to find Les. But the man wasn’t giving in easily and Adam found himself blocking punch after punch as Lukowski came at him. He didn’t even have the chance to get another hit in, not with the way he was having to defend himself.

Then he thought of Les, hurt and alone, Chase, beaten, broken, James, missing, and him and Charlene being stalked. His brain processed all of this in a split second and Adam roared as he drove his fist into Lukowski’s face.

Blood spurted from the man’s nose as the impact of the hit shot up Adam’s aching hand all the way to his shoulder blade. Whether it was a red haze of anger or actual blood tinting his vision, he didn’t know or care as he followed Lukowski down and rained punches to the man’s head.

Adam yelled in protest when strong hands gripped his shoulders and tore him from

Lukowski.

“Adam, enough!” Nick shouted, shaking Adam hard enough to rattle his teeth. “He’s out! Jesus, he might even be dead! Josh!”

EX’S AND O’S

Bailey Bradford

177

Adam quit trying to shake off Nick’s hands and fell back on his butt. He swiped at his eyes and blinked away the pinkish tint that was, much to his disgust, actually blood. He saw Josh, a trail of blood streaming down from his biceps, leaning over Lukowski.

“He’s not dead, the stupid fucker,” Josh snarled. “Maybe you shouldn’t have pulled Adam off yet.”

“No, my son isn’t a killer.”

Adam looked over at his mother, sitting on the floor, pale and shaky but otherwise, she seemed fine. She gave him a wan smile and nodded at Josh. “I’m going to owe him a lot of cookies.”

Adam didn’t care about cookies. His mom wasn’t shot, Josh was—well, he suspected

the man’s arm was bleeding from a gunshot wound, but Josh didn’t seem particularly fazed, and Nick, who’d finally released him, hadn’t been killed either.

Now he just needed Les to be safe, alive. Adam glared at the bloody mess of a man sprawled on the floor. He stood up and took the two steps necessary to reach the man then kicked Lukowski in the ribs. “Wake up!”

Lukowski groaned and it looked like he tried to open one eye. Adam wasn’t sure.

“Tell me where Les is or I’ll break every fucking one of your ribs,” he said, his voice colder than he’d ever thought possible.

At first he thought the wailing sound came from the downed jerk, then he realised it was a siren—no,
sirens
. Relief spluttered and died in him. He wanted Lukowski arrested but as soon as the man was taken away, Adam’s chance to find out where Les was would be gone as well.

“I suggest you answer Adam’s question,” Josh snapped from where he knelt over

Lukowski. “In case you haven’t noticed, Nick has a gun pointed at you, and he’s pissed enough to pull the trigger.”

Adam grunted in surprise as he twisted his neck around and saw that Nick did indeed have the gun aimed at Lukowski—his stomach, though, rather than his head. A painful and maybe not fatal shot.

“And I will make you hurt,” Nick said, confirming Adam’s thought. “You shot Josh, you asshole! I might just shoot you anyway!” Nick tipped the weapon down slightly and EX’S AND O’S

Bailey Bradford

178

pulled the trigger. Bits of wood exploded from beside Lukowski’s hip and the sharp bitter tang of urine mixed with the scent of gunpowder.

And Lukowski started to speak.

Everything hurt, from the tips of his hair to his toenails. Les groaned and forced his eyes open. The slight movement made the pain worse, until his entire body felt like one throbbing, raw nerve.

But he wasn’t dead, at least not yet. How much longer that would be the case, Les didn’t know but he suspected it wouldn’t be long, especially not if he continued to lie there like some helpless victim.

Waves of red hot pain washed over him as he rolled to his side, and he wouldn’t have been surprised if every artery and blood vessel in his brain burst. His vision dimmed and he panted as he struggled to his knees. Les slumped against the wall of the small shed, utterly drained.

Visions of Adam at Lukowski’s mercy—of which the traitorous bastard had none—

had Les shoving up to his feet. Even with the wall at his back, he swayed, dizzy and so nauseous he almost wish he’d remained unconscious.

But then he’d be an easy target for Rollins’ thug, or thugs. Les couldn’t do that, just lay there and wait to die. He’d go out fighting, if he had to go out at all. He’d prefer to hang around for another fifty years or more, though, so Les tried to quell the nausea and think past the pain.

Several deep breaths later, he was still well past miserable, but the sound of a vehicle approaching told Les he was out of recovery time. Les shuffled towards the door, keeping pressed to the wall since he was about as weak as a lamb. His hands were still cuffed behind his back and he didn’t think he had a snowball’s chance in hell of taking out whoever opened the door, but he had to try. He’d just got to the other side of the door when the knob was twisted and the door opened.

Les kicked out the second the man started to step inside. He managed a higher, harder kick than he’d thought he could. The toe of his boot sunk into a soft layer of fat and a pained EX’S AND O’S

Bailey Bradford

179

grunt sounded before the man stumbled back. Les tried to charge out the door but his unsteady legs wouldn’t hold him and he ended up sprawled over the man’s legs, his chin slamming into the guy’s groin.

“Fuuugh!”

The man howled in agony and reached for his balls, his hands slapping at Les. Les used the only weapon he had, biting one hairy knuckle hard enough that blood coated his tongue. The man bucked and screamed and tried to jerk his hand free. When he couldn’t he delivered a stinging blow right to Les’s head—fortunately the non-injured side but it still made his ears ring.

It wasn’t until the ringing grew louder and red and blue lights flashed in his vision that Les realised he just might live after all—but he still didn’t let go of the screaming man’s hands until two police officers practically pried his jaws open.

Vision going grey, narrowing to a pinprick as Les rolled off his would-be attacker, Les only had one question. “Where’s Adam?” he tried to ask. He slipped into unconsciousness before he could even finish the first word.

EX’S AND O’S

Bailey Bradford

180

It felt wrong, the way Les’ hand was so still in his. Adam blinked away tears as he rubbed his thumb over the back of Les’ hand. Even though he knew Les would recover, it hurt seeing the big man in the hospital bed, his normally tanned face almost as white as the pillow case his battered head rested on.

When Adam had first seen Les after finally being allowed into the room, he’d been hard pressed to believe what the doctors had said.
No cranial hemorrhaging, no fractures to his
skull.
Adam kept repeating those two things to himself, but it didn’t help much. Concussions were tricky. There could be long term damage or something not apparent until further down the road. Les’s brain could swell, start bleeding, any number of things and it terrified Adam with an intensity that left him gasping for breath if he thought on it too much.

It doesn’t matter, just as long as he wakes up and comes back to me. I don’t care if there’s
permanent damage or temporary damage, whatever, just let me keep him!
Adam scrubbed at his cheeks with his forearm then sniffled a couple of times. Looking at the bruises darkening on Les’ skin would send him right back into a crying jag, and that just wouldn’t do.

He wanted Les to wake up, and Adam didn’t want to man’s first sight of him then to be cause for concern—and Les would be concerned if he came to and Adam was sobbing and all blotchy and his eyes swollen. Les had been through so much Adam didn’t want to add any stress for him.

As Adam glanced around the small grey-ish room, he thought of Les’ brightly

decorated bedroom. The hospital room was depressing in its blandness. Even the floor was grey, although a darker shade, and the curtains—well, at least they had some pale blue lines running through them.
Geez, this wouldn’t encourage anyone to wake up!
Adam wondered if there was a particular reason the hospital kept the rooms so drab—maybe there was a study done that said it helped people feel calm?
More likely it makes them want to get out a hella lot
faster…

The door squeaked softly as it was opened. Adam’s hand tightened on Les’, and he

scooted a little closer, hovering over his lover even, until the Chief of Police, Howard Ewers, EX’S AND O’S

Bailey Bradford

181

stepped into the room. Adam hadn’t been surprised when the Chief had been one of the first responders at the house. Lukowski had lied about everything else, so why wouldn’t he have lied about the Chief being at some convention?

A few hours ago, Ewers’ had been the epitome of a commanding officer, his

expression stern and anger glinting in his dark eyes. Now the man’s shoulders were slumped and the confidence he had exuded seemed to have vanished as he made his way towards Adam and Les. Adam didn’t know the man at all, but he didn’t think Ewers often looked so…defeated.

Adam’s heart turned in his chest. “What’s wrong? Did Rollins—”

“Rollins is dead,” Ewers said bluntly. A spark of anger flared in his black eyes as he scowled. “It seems the Billings police department sent out a couple of officers to arrest him and there was a
scuffle
,” he laced the word with enough scorn to make Adam frown. “And Rollins managed to get one of the officer’s guns and kill himself.”

Adam’s frown deepened as he tried to figure out why that was a bad thing. Rollins had tried to have so many people killed. He might have even succeeded with James. Maybe Adam should have felt bad, but the truth was, he was glad the man was dead. His confusion must have been evident because Ewers sighed heavily and settled his angry glare on Adam.

“I suspect, given that Rollins seemed to have that police department in his pocket, the officers were either sent out to make sure the man didn’t roll on them, or else they decided to make sure of it themselves. How many cops were on Rollins’ payroll, and how far up the chain of command did it go?” Ewers shrugged again as his mouth thinned. “There was no way they could get out of arresting Rollins, not with Lukowski and Jensen, the man who was sent to kill Les, spilling everything they knew. Jensen had worked for Rollins before, and he rolled on the bastard before he even had him cuffed.”

“So the dirty cops are going to get away with everything?” That was shit as far as Adam was concerned. “Can’t you—or someone—call the FBI or…or Homeland Security or something?”

Ewers’ lips twitched but he nodded. “Already done. I have some…friends in high

places, you might say. The fact that the Billings PD shouldn’t have even had time to draw up a warrant when they went after Rollins won’t hurt, either. That whole department is in for a big shake-up.” Ewers’ amusement faded and he once again looked like he was bearing the EX’S AND O’S

Bailey Bradford

182

weight of the world on his shoulders. He dragged one hand through his short hair and sighed. “There’s bad people in every field of work, but crooked cops—that’s just the worst.”