Run This Town 03 - (Watch Me) Unmask You (15 page)

BOOK: Run This Town 03 - (Watch Me) Unmask You
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Maddie’s head lifted and she started wailing. Lucky fell to his knees and the phone went with him, crashing at his side. He heard Elias calling.

“Lucky! Lucky!” Someone’s booted feet stepped on the phone, crunched it, and Elias was gone.

“We-we have money. I have money.” Lucky’s words stumbled all over themselves. He looked around at the men who’d circled him. Four of them, all clad in black. All carrying guns with their faces covered. “Please, take whatever you want.” Maddie’s cries got louder.

What was going on? His arm ached, but everything in Lucky focused on his daughter. On her cries.

“Please. Let me—” His voice. He sounded faint, weak. “My daughter. Please. Take whatever you want. Anything.”

Maddie kept crying. One of the men walked over to the crib and stood there, staring down at her. Lucky held his breath, his heart stopped.

“No.” He shook his head. “No,” he tried to shout it. “She’s a baby, leave her. Look at me. Whatever you want it’s yours. Leave us alone.”

“Shut up.” Something hit him in the back of the head, hard enough to stun him, to send his vision wavering.

He grunted at the pain and fell forward, but someone grabbed his hair, jerked his head back.

“This him?”

The man at Maddie’s crib held up something, a photo maybe. He looked at it then at Lucky. “That’s him alright.”

Him. They were here for Lucky. Everything in him froze right then. What was happening? He couldn’t think, the blow to the head had him dizzy. He had to blink and blink some more when the men’s figures starting shaking.

“Cute kid,” the one with the photo said and he bent, scooping Maddie up from the crib.

“Please.” Lucky’s voice was even weaker now, but he tried to get to his feet. He tried. And for some reason no one stopped him when he staggered upright. Something, blood more than likely, dripped from his hair down under the neck of his t-shirt. “Please don’t hurt her.” His mouth trembled and he held up his hands. “Give her to me. She won’t stop crying unless I hold her.” His arms trembled, the bullet in his arm a painful thing that seemed to ache with every breath, but he didn’t care.

This was his daughter.

“You want her?” The man holding Maddie cocked his head, Lucky felt his gaze even though he couldn’t see his eyes.

“You’re here for me, right?” Why, he didn’t care right then. “Give her to me and I’ll do whatever you want.”

“Actually, I think I’ll keep her.” He held Maddie to his chest and rocked her a couple times. “I think that would be the best way to get you to cooperate.”

Lucky covered his mouth with a trembling hand. “Who are you? What do you want with me?”

The man had to lift his voice to speak over Maddie’s wails. “You’re Lucky Mousasi, yeah? Elias’s husband?”

Lucky rocked, unsteady on his feet. It seemed this was the man in charge because no one else moved, no one spoke but him. “You know my husband?”

“You could say we run in similar circles.” He touched a gloved finger to Maddie’s cheek. Lucky tensed. “So you two are his prize.” He chuckled.

Lucky couldn’t make heads or tails of what was going on. His head spun. He needed to sit down. Needed to have his daughter in his arms more. “Please, just tell me what you want.”

“Elias is the target,” the man said. “You’re the knife I’ll use to cut his head off.”

“I don’t—” Lucky shook his head and winced. “I don’t understand.”

“But you will.” The man motioned to the doorway. “Come on. Let’s take this elsewhere.”

The men started moving, someone prodded Lucky’s shoulder, pushed him forward, but he refused to go. He launched himself at the man holding his daughter, tried to grab her, but he wasn’t fast enough, or maybe they’d known before him what he was going to do. A foot to the middle of his back sent him sprawling facedown on the floor. Then a blow to his face, the side of his head. Blood flooded his mouth. His head pounded, making it difficult for him to lift it much less open his eyes.

“I’m in charge, Lucky.” The guy who was indeed in charge spoke close to his face. Lucky felt his breath, but opening his eyes was too much.

He lay there, head and arm throbbing, a heavy foot placed at the center of his back to keep him still. “I want my daughter,” he whispered. “Please, don’t hurt her. Please.”

“You decide what happens, Lucky. Follow my directions and who knows, maybe you’d be reunited with your daughter and Elias soon enough.”

Lucky spat the blood out. At least, he attempted to, but it trickled out the corner of his mouth and onto the floor. “What do you want?”

“I want you to call your husband,” the man said coolly. “I’m sure he’d be happy to hear your voice. And I’ve got a message for him.”

Chapter Seventeen

 

He was supposed to be calm. Supposed to think. Be rational. But that didn’t work, not when his family was in danger and Elias was on a different fucking coast. His heart was in his throat, been there since he’d heard Lucky’s whispered words.

Someone was in their house. Their house and his family—

“Fuck.” He jumped to his feet and kicked the chair he’d been sitting in.

“What do you need?” Dane was all brusque business. Business when this was so fucking personal he would never be able to comprehend it.

“I’m calling in favors,” Elias barked. “All. I need a plane. Commercial isn’t gonna work.” He grabbed his phone, dialed a number as he told Dane, “Whoever you have, Dane. Send them over there. Now.”

Dane nodded and turned away, pulling another phone from another pocket.

Lucky. Fear ate away at Elias. Fear and guilt, twisting his insides into something that ached. That burned.

“Elias.”

“Israel.” Elias sat again, ass on the edge of the mattress inside the hotel room where he’d met Dane earlier. They hadn’t left, had been discussing how best to handle the Donovan situation when Lucky’s call came in. “Is.” Elias touched a hand to his jaw, felt his fingers tremble so he fisted them. “I need you.”

“What is it?” Israel Storm went from warmth to frost in a blink.

“I’m in Cali,” Elias said quickly. “Lucky and Maddie are back home and someone just broke in.”

“I’m on my way.”

Elias nodded. He would be. “It’s my turn,” he said, turning his back to Dane. “It’s my time.” And he didn’t have to say more, because Israel would know.

“That’s— You can’t be sure.”

Elias discarded the platitude, they both knew it was garbage. “It’s my time and Lucky and Maddie,” his voice broke. “I can’t get to them. I can’t protect them.” And that was the most difficult to admit. “I need you.”

“I got you.” Israel’s promise was strong and sure. Exactly what Elias needed him to be because he couldn’t be certain he could be that himself. “I’m in Queens so Reggie and I are heading there now.”

Everything in Elias shook, everything in him raged. “My life, Is, my life is in that house. My 
everything
 is in that house.”

“I know.”

“Go.” Elias bared his teeth. “Protect them.” He fisted his hand then relaxed the fingers. “I need you to do this for me. Please.”

“I will,” Israel told him. “That is a promise, me bredda. I’ll make sure your family is fine.” Elias heard a car door slam and another voice, likely Israel’s lover, Reggie. “Get your ass home.”

Is ended the call, and Elias turned to Dane.

“Friend of mine is letting us borrow his plane.” He frowned. “My guy closest to you isn’t answering, so I’m gonna keep trying. He’s my only contact in Jersey, everyone else in Manhattan.” He narrowed his gaze at Elias. “I called the local P.D. They’ve got people on the way, told them it’s our case.”

Would they get there in time?

The question tormented Elias. His phone made a jangling sound, indicating that a video call was coming through. He’d deal with the fallout later, right now, making sure Lucky and Maddie were fine took priority. He snatched up his phone and his heart leapt when he saw Lucky’s name. He swiped the video icon to the right and sank into a nearby chair.

Lucky’s face came into view.

Elias gasped. “Lucky.” His husband’s eyes were glassy with shock, his face swollen and blood dripped down from his head. His left arm was bloodied, too. His heart clenched. “Lucky. Jesus.”

The video panned out and men came into view. They stood at Lucky’s back, everyone holding an AK 47. Elias stilled himself, reached deep down for his calm and couldn’t find it.

“Lucky, talk to me.” He ignored everything else. “Babe.”

“Lucky’s taking orders from me.” Another figure, clad in black and holding Maddie, stepped up to stand directly behind Lucky, who flinched slightly. “He only talks when I say he can. Otherwise…” He stared down at Maddie, this man who had no idea what he’d just done.

“If you touch them,” Elias said loudly, “I will make sure you pay.”

“Bit late for the threats.” His voice wasn’t familiar. This wasn’t anyone Elias knew personally.

“What do you want?”

“I want to know something, that’s all.” He motioned with one hand and one of the men came forward and grabbed Lucky by his hair.

“No.”

Lucky cried out, terror in his eyes.

Jesus. Fuck. “Don’t touch him. What the fuck do you want?”

“Does Lucky know you were the one who killed his mother and father?”

Elias’s world shrunk then to only that phone. To only his husband. “Lucky.”

The man holding Lucky released his hair then hit him, the butt of his gun to Lucky’s temple.

“No!” Elias jumped to his feet, spit flying, body shaking. “Don’t you fucking touch him. I will kill you, you hear me? You’re dead.”

“Answer the question, Elias.” He sounded bored, but he must know what he was doing, destroying Elias’s world on video. “A simple yes or no. Does your husband know you killed his parents?”

“No, you bastard. No, he doesn’t.”

He chuckled. “Wrong. He does now.”

Lucky’s eye were wide, blood running down his temple. Pain in his eyes. Physical pain, but as Elias watched the realization of what Elias had just said took root and Lucky’s mouth opened, his throat worked.

“I’m guessing he also doesn’t know how you truly make your money. What you’re really doing when you leave out on these business trips.”

“Who sent you?” Elias asked. Calm. Too fucking calm. “You must know I’ll come for you. You must know you’re a dead man walking.”

The head guy bent next to Lucky and peered into the camera. “Why don’t you tell your husband what you’ve been doing for the past ten years, huh, Elias? Killing people for hire. The best in the biz.” He laughed. “If Elias is on your trail it’s only a matter of time till someone’s bringing your family flowers and hymns are sung at your gravesite.”

Lucky choked.

“Lucky,” Elias whispered. “I’m so sorry.”

“You’re so fucking late. I think the apology should have come about the time you sliced his father’s throat and shot his mother in the head.” He put his mouth to Lucky’s ear. “I’ve seen the pictures. Fucking work of art. An artist, your husband.”

Lucky’s body jerked once and he doubled over, throwing up.

The one in charge patted Lucky on the back. “Poor thing. Can’t be fun finding out your husband killed your parents and made you an orphan. That he’s directly responsible for you having to blow men for money in the toilets at Penn Station.”

“Jesus Christ.”

Dane. Elias had forgotten he was in the room.

“What the fuck?”

“Oh, was that a secret, too?” The man tssked. “A married couple with so many secrets. That can’t be good.”

“What do you want?” Elias asked. “Me? You want me? I’m coming for you.”

“I know you are, but will you get here in time?”

The guy holding Lucky put his gun to Lucky’s temple.

“Say goodbye.”

“No.” Elias shook his head. “No.”

The camera spun away and all Elias could see was a wall. A wall with pictures. Them as a couple, with Maddie. On the beach. Laughing. Touching. Happy.

Brap. Brap.

“Lucky.” His knees hit the floor, but the phone, it remained in his grasp.

Something fell, sounded like a body hitting the floor. Maddie’s cries cut off abruptly then the video went off, and Elias… died.

****

Beeps echoed in Lucky’s head, making it pound even more. The throbbing resonated down to his jaw, making even his gums ache. His entire body radiated pain, and he swam back to the murky surface knowing something wasn’t right, something was off. His heartbeat kicked up, synching with the excruciating pain in his head. That in turn ratcheted up the beeps.

He groaned, tried to move his body and found he couldn’t.

“Ugh.”

“Stay still,” someone, a woman, murmured as soft fingers touched his left wrist. Something pricked the inside of that same elbow and he cried out, lashes lifting slowly.

Everything spun and his throat worked as nausea took him over. “Pl-please. Where—”

“You’re in the hospital, sir.” He couldn’t get a bead on her, it was too hard to keep his eyes open and it sounded as if she was everywhere at once. Touching his forehead, putting something cold to his mouth, fingertips pressing to his wrist.

Her words echoed in his head and Lucky opened his eyes again. He stared blindly, anguished cries yanking from his throat. “My baby.” The words were tight, squeezed as they were from a throat rougher, drier than sandpaper. “Where is she? Where’s my daughter?”

“Shh.” The woman murmured something. “She’s with your friends outside. She’s alright. You need to rest.”

But how could he? He had no friends. All he had— “No. I want her.” He reached out, grabbed the woman’s wrist, using what little strength he had to pull her toward him. “I want my baby.”

“You need to rest, sir.” She patted his forehead as Lucky tried to make her understand, he was in danger. His daughter. So much danger.

“Please. The police. I need—”

“You need to rest.”

The sense of floating came over him suddenly. “No.” But the word was just a croak and he was already falling back into that void where nothing existed.

When Lucky came back to himself he had no idea how much time had passed, but he knew he wasn’t alone in the room. He felt him in there, felt his tension, his fear.

The guilt, too, and Lucky hadn’t even opened his eyes yet. He didn’t do it now. Just licked his lips and spoke. “Get out.” Wasn’t loud, but it hurt. His jaw. His face. But the two words, they hurt more than anything, anything.

“Lucky.” Footsteps brought him closer, until Lucky felt his body heat. Until he smelled that scent he was so achingly familiar with. “Lucky, I’m so sorry.”

Is what he spoke, the man Lucky had married. But all Lucky heard were the words those men taunted him with. The knowledge of who he was, who his husband was. And everything they weren’t. All the things he’d done, this man Lucky didn’t know. Couldn’t possibly know. Not if those things were true.

“Lucky.” Rough fingers on his chin, skating over the tender flesh there. Lucky shifted, turned his head. “Look at me. Look at me.” He begged. The way Lucky liked to hear him beg. He begged. And Lucky never hated it more, the sound of his voice. The hurt in them, the despair.

As if he’d been the one deceived, devastated, destroyed.

He opened his eyes and stared up, into Elias’s blue gaze. Heavy with guilt and regret, red-rimmed. His hair was pulled back, making him look severe, hard. Lucky didn’t want to feel at the sight of him, didn’t want to ache so badly, but he did. He did and he gritted his teeth against that raw pain. His body throbbed, but nothing hurt more than looking at him, this man he’d married.


Mijn schat
, talk to me.” He got down on one knee, face level with Lucky, and took his hand. The one hooked up to a whole bunch of shit Lucky didn’t want to think about.

Talk to me, he said. What should Lucky talk about? Which question should he ask first? He looked at Elias, even though it wasn’t easy. “You killed my family.” He was hoarse, the words hot and bitter against his sore throat.

“Yes.”

One word. One fucking word and Lucky gave in to the ball of agony consuming him. He opened his mouth and let it out. The sound. Loud. And shrill. Nothing pretty, nothing delicate. Just pain, raw pain. Ugly pain. This man, this man he loved and trusted and…

“Lucky, please. Let me explain.”

But he couldn’t stop screaming, because the reality of it kept battering him. Waves and waves of it. The truth. That he’d married the man who’d killed his family. Who’d orphaned him. Who’d destroyed him. He’d married that man.

Loved him.

Fucked him.

Loved him.

That man.

The door opened and people rushed in. They were saying shit, talking about calming himself, injuring himself.

“Get him out.” Was he making sense? He’d better be making sense. “Get him away from me.”

“Sir, please. You have to leave.”

“I’m not leaving him. He’s my husband.” He touched Lucky, grabbed his hand and Lucky jerked away, yanking on the tubes.

They fucking hurt.

“Lucky, stop. Please. You’ll harm yourself.”

The concern. “Fuck you.” Something pricked him. Goddamn it. He didn’t want to pass out, but he knew he would. “Fuck you. You hurt me.” The words were slowing down, morphing as he sank under. “You hurt me worse.”

****

He shifted and groaned, opening his eyes. His body still hurt, the pain in his head still there, but at least his vision was steady enough for him to make out the man standing on the other side of the hospital room.

“Mr. Mousasi.” The man turned to him. Dark blond hair, gray eyes and a suit. He pulled something from his jacket—a badge—and flashed it as he came closer.

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