Snatched (19 page)

Her anger was palpable, her eyes blazing.
Beautiful eyes, he thought, totally inappropriate given the circumstances. She was about to shoot him and he foolishly had shown her how.

"Put the damn gun down! I didn't play you
!
If yo
u'd use your brains you would
've
understood I was buying us some time," he said, his anger growing.

Her eyes wavered just a bit.

"I don't know what to believe anymore. You have no real reason to keep me alive. Maybe all you were doing
here
was
getting a last lay, like you said."

"Lady, if I was that broken I simply would've taken what I wanted
that first day
and killed you
for the hell of it
.
I wouldn't have waited all this time going through all this bullshit."

Another sound from behind him made him remember the wounded Roach. Even as he turned to find that Roach was no longer on the floor (how the hell had he gotten up with one hand), had recovered the knife
in his good hand
and was already in mid lunge.

The knife
plung
ed into his chest and the pain seared.

Still he reached through the
agony
in an effort
to grab Roach's
throat
.
If it was the last thing he did on this earth, he was going to finally get rid of this useless parasite. But
Roach
jerked
out the knife
, exacerbating Dele's wound
in another blaze of pain
and was
now
aiming directly for
Dele's
heart.
Roach's
useless wrist was obviously not causing him enough pain
to totally incapacitate him. Through the haze of
his own
pain, Dele no
ted
how
fast
the man moved
.
Fast enough to be lethal.

But not fast enough
in the end
. A gun report took both of them by surprise. So did the hole that suddenly appeared in Roach's forehead. Center position and clean
but a small trickle of blood
.

The smell of gun powder added to the surrealistic
scene of the now-dead Roach collapsing to the floor in front of him.

Dele turned to see what he already expected to find. Nailah's hand
shook
but
she still held the lethal weapon.
He didn't move, n
ot sure where her mind was at, w
hether she saw him as friend or foe.

The gun lowered and she collapsed on the bed
sobb
ing.

He pushed his own pain away as he
strode to the bed. Every movement burned, but he reached out a hand to place on her shoulder. During this whole time he hadn't registered that she was still as nude as he was.
That fact would have made her feel particularly vulnerable, especially with Roach's promise of violation. She'd killed
Roach as much
to protect herself
as
to
also
prevent his certain death.

She shifted at the touch, lifted her face, tears streaming down.

"I killed him," she said quietly.

"Yeah, he's dead," was all he could say at the moment. He wanted to comfort
her
,
say something that would take away the shock he knew she was experiencing. He remembered
the soul twist
ing he did
after
his first kill as a rookie. A
t least the police had
counseling to deal with that. Nailah only had him and right now he was useless. Already he was having trouble breathing. He didn't know how he was going to
prevent the carnage sure to take place later that night. Didn't know how he was going to stop Rez for good.

The thought of Rez and the gang
overwhelmed
his brain
. Once t
he Demons
found out that Roach was dead, they would be gearing for revenge.
Even a
useless
piece of
shit
like Roach
require
d some
vengeance otherwise the gang would lose face.

There was no way he could ever let them
find out
that Nailah
was the one who
pulled the trigger.
Just another feat he was going to have to accomplish somehow against impossible odds.

For a second, he thought about coming out from under, calling it quits and handing over what he had
already
gathered
on
the
Demons
.
Enough
to stop the gang's
trafficking
but not enough to bring charges for the
Mojave
bodies, mostly gang members, but not all, not all
.

He realized he was willing to
drop everything just
to keep her safe. She'd need full police reconnaissance
simply
to stay alive
in the next few weeks
while they gave her a new identity, set her up with a new life in another state.

Some place where he'd never see her again.

The thought came out of n
owhere and it unsettled him. This was the last thing he'd expected when first going under with the gang. Now everything was confused and time was running out.

And he still couldn't get out of his head the idea that once he turned her over for police protection, he wouldn't be allowed to find her. That was taken care of by another department.

The only way to
ensure
her safety without her go
ing into protection would be to
ge
t the goods on the gang.
How he was going to do that he didn't know. But he couldn't quit, not just now.
For right now, he was still Demon.

"What are you going to do?" she asked, interrupting his thoughts.

He didn't answer her for a second, before he finally said,

"We've got to get you somewhere safe while I take care of business tonight."

She looked at him incredulously.

"You're still going to that fight tonight, to
confront the Jamaicans?
You have
a
death wish?
"

Her words jarred her
out of her initial shock
and she seemed to notice his chest wound for the first time. Blood was seeping out, some drops already settling on the bed cover.

"Oh God,
Dele,
you're bleeding
. I just thought he nicked you.
You
can't
possibly
go
to that gang fight
tonight.
They'll finish you off
in the first few minutes
."

He smiled even though he was hurting like hell.

"Didn't know you cared," he teased through the pain.

She turned her eyes as though she didn't want him to see what was there.

She moved, slid off the bed and stood on the side, gloriously, beautifully naked.

She
quickly
stooped, picked up her panties, slipped into them.

Then
said, "If you insist on dying tonight, we can at least dress that wound
so you're not
totally helpless
. You've got anything on hand?"

He shook his head. "Just a few
Band-Aids
, a little rubbing alcohol."

"Well, you're going to have to trust me just like I trusted you. I'm going to run to the store, find some
thing to wrap your wound. Now you can come with me, but I'm going."

He was already shaking his head. "Roach may not have come by himself," he said, looking at the body on the floor.

"If there'd been anybody else, wouldn't they have come running in when they heard the shot? We don't have any more time. Somebody probably has already called the cops. We've got to get your wound dressed before they come for the both of us."

She was right about the need for
some medic
al care. As for the cops coming, h
aving done stints as a rookie and going undercover, he knew certain areas of the city very well. This was one neighborhood where folks didn't blink at the sound of a gun going off. That had been one of the reasons he had chosen this hotel as his "headquarters" where he knew he could lay low without having to explain to some other squads why a gun had gone off in his room.

Or why there was a body l
ying on his floor.

The
warm moisture
trickling down his chest made his decision. She was right; he couldn't go tonight without the bare minimum of care. As it were, he wasn't sure Roach hadn't hit a lung. His breathing was still affected but not so badly now.

The Demons had their own "doc" they had on hand. A sole practitioner who didn't mind being paid with dirty money. Dele had collected notes on him, too. He could see him later, if he survived.

But tonight he had to show up, had to prove he was still Demon enough to stand with them.

From there, he would do whatever was necessary – even play up to
Clare
– to get some info. Anything to stick Rez and the others behind bars for a long, long time if not for the rest of their sorry lives.

"Grab my jeans," he directed.

She was already dressed now
in her own jeans and his borrowed jacket. S
he picked up his jeans to hand to him. He took the jeans, reached into his pocket where he kept some loose bills. He handed her two twenties.

"This should be enough to cover you for the stuff. I'm going to have to trust you because I can't hide the blood and we'd be stopped by some cops if I try to come with you. Nailah, I'm putting my life in your hands. Don't make me regret it."

They exchanged a look and for a moment he wasn't sure that she wouldn't call the police as soon as she got the chance. His cover might be irreparably blown if she did. And the Demons would go after her.

It was too risky for him to tell her things that could get her killed.

For right now, he had
to remain Dele to her.
Unfortunately, s
he
might
never get to know him
by his
given
name,
Eric McIntyre.
And maybe in the end, she wouldn't want to.

"I'll be back," she said solemnly. "I give you my word."

He gave her directions to a nearby pharmacy within walking distance.

And with that, she was out the door. For some reason, it both surprised him
–
and
then it really
didn't
–
to hear the sound of his bike revving up and then taking off.

There was obviously a lot he didn't know about her. And he had
laid
so much trust in her hands.

He sat on the edge of the bed, contemplating tonight.

Then he got up, finished dressing and maneuvered Roach's body beneath the bed. That would have to do until he could contact
Jud
at the
precinct
to
make arrangements to secretly
pick up the body.
That was the only contact he could risk for now.

Nailah
didn't know why she'd taken
his
bike.
The
Harley (or was it a Kawasaki, she couldn't be sure)
was
difficult
to maneuver in traffic and she was risking her life
without
a helmet.
But time was slipping by too fast and walking was just out of the question. Besides, she was getting the hang of the bike the longer and harder she rode.

Dele
could die before she got back. That thought made her consider whether she should take the chance to call 911, get some EMTs to him. But maybe that would
be a deadly move considering the gang probably thought she was dead and fully expected Dele to show up.

It occurred to her as she finally pulled into a parking space at the CVS that she hadn't thought for a second of escaping. Of just letting him take the fall and getting the hell out town, out of everyone's clutches.

One call to the police and this could all be over. She could even explain why it had been necessary to kill a man.