Six Guns: Volume Two (16 page)

TWENTY-FIVE

CAIN

This was it. Drop-off night.

I had given it a few days to make its way to Foster and Thomas, hoping they’d make a move. If they did, I’d be ready. I still wasn’t sure if the two of them were connected. I still didn’t know if Lilah was involved either. We hadn’t spoken to each other much, just going about our daily routines and trying to stay out of each other’s way. At least Lola’s confession had eased my mind a little in knowing that all my men were loyal. I wondered if Remmy was going to be right in the head after all of that, but he seemed to shake it off. He wasn’t speaking much, but he was out of his trance at least. I had never seen a man do that before. His wife had driven him to it I guess. She had gotten every bit of what she deserved as far as I was concerned.

I looked over at Stan who was riding in the back of the car with me. I was proud of my cousin. This was all because of him and the information he’d found out for me. He’d become a valuable asset to the group. Seton was driving. None of us said anything, our minds wandering to the what-ifs of what was to become of our night. It was a simple plan really, but one that could turn ugly
real
fast. The one thing about putting together a plan like this, you never truly knew what your enemy was capable of. All you could do was try to give the benefit of the doubt, over-plan in that you had every base covered, and pray like hell that it would turn out in your favor. This is what I had to do to try to relieve some of the stress that had been continuously eating away at me over the last few weeks. It had been nearly unbearable, and focusing on a plan was about the only thing keeping me sane right now.

We pulled into the empty parking lot. Seton turned the car lights off. Now there was one thing to do—wait. We had multiple large duffel bags in our trunk stuffed with crumpled papers posing as fake heroin. So if anyone was watching us right now, which was hopefully both Foster and Thomas, they’d think we were here before the other car, the buyers. The other car was really Hagan and Brock who were told to wait twenty minutes before driving to the lot in a car that we’d bought new just today so that no one would recognize it as one of ours. The Triplets and the rest of the crew were hidden in the shadows. Their job was to hit Trey Foster and whoever he brought with him hard if need be. This was my big genius plan, which had so many holes in it that could possibly send me straight to my grave tonight, but still, it was as solid as I could make it. My stomach still felt like it was eating itself inside of me right now, so I took out a cigarette to try to calm my nerves.

“Want one?” I asked Stan.

“Yeah.”

I handed him one. We listened to the silence, every part of me trying to stay alert and focused on the task at hand—taking out those against me and showing once and for all who was the smarter man. Haven was mine. I wanted everyone to know that. Some asshole from Philadelphia wasn’t going to come in here and try to take over what my father built and passed down to me.

The minutes ticked on.

Finally the other car pulled in next to us. Brock killed the engine and the headlights.

“Ready?” Seton asked from the front seat.

No, but it was now or never. “Let’s go.”

Stan was instructed to remain in the car while Seton and I exited the vehicle and moved to the trunk. We tossed the duffel bags over our shoulders and moved toward the other car. I felt exposed out here in the cool night air despite the fact that I was wearing a bullet proof vest. Nothing was protecting my skull right now. It took a lot of willpower not to glance out into the distance searching for movement from anyone else. I had to make this look real. We took the bags to the other car where the windows were rolled down and it looked like an exchange was made.

Shit. Nothing was happening. Where was Foster?

“What do you think, Seton?” I asked.

He held up his hand. “Give it a few more minutes.”

Car lights came up the road, and a vehicle came flying into the parking lot. Men filed out of the car with guns pointed at us. It happened so fast. I turned to look into the face of who I assumed was Trey Foster, though it was the first time I laid eyes on him. My weapon was still in its holster. I could only depend on the Triplets, Hagan, and my other men now, hoping they’d be able to take this crew out. Right as the thought crossed my mind, out of the shadows came my men—the ones I’d been depending on—their hands raised as more of Foster’s crew also had them at gunpoint.

I closed my eyes for a second. So we’d just fallen through one of those holes in my plan. We were officially screwed—and probably dead.

“Do you know who I am?” he asked, stepping forward so I could get a better look at him in the dim light.

“I assume Trey Foster.”

He looked back at one of his men and laughed. “That’s right. I’m surprised. You’ve done your homework. And if you have, then you know what I’m after.”

“If it’s the H, there’s none in the bag.”

Foster raised his eyebrows. He pulled out one of the bags and let it drop to the ground. It was light as a feather with only the paper in it. “Were you trying to trap me, Nicky Cain?”

“I figured you’d show.”

“And why did you assume that?”

I sighed. “Figured Lilah told you.”

Foster thought this was hysterical and he burst out into a fit of laughter. “Lilah? No. Lilah told me nothing. She doesn’t know who I am.”

“Then why go after her?”

“Why?” Foster grinned again. I was glad I could amuse the fucker. “Just look at her. I went to check her out after I learned she was with you, but damn, Cain, she’s really hot. I was only trying to fuck her. And honestly, she was delicious,” he told me. “Every ounce of that smoking hot body was exactly what I needed to satisfy my hunger.”

If I knew I didn’t have a dozen or so guns aimed at me right now, I would pull my gun and end this asshole’s life for talking about Lilah like that. My temper was still on the rise as my thoughts drifted of this guy banging
my
girl. Oh, fuck it. I was going to die anyway. My hand moved to the inside of my jacket to the holster. Guns went off in the distance. It sounded like a warzone. Bodies dropped in front of me one by one, falling to the ground like dead flies. All of the bodies belonged to Foster and his crew. Foster lay face down in front of my feet, a bullet through his head.

“What the hell?” Seton spit out beside me.

Footsteps echoed on the pavement. I struggled to see in the dark.

“Holy shit,” I rattled off, seeing none other than Bello and the other Africans walking toward us in their expensive shoes, their rifles slung over their backs like the badass cavalry they were.

Bello grinned. “Happy to see me, Nicky Cain?”

“Are you kidding? I want to come over there and kiss you right now,” I told him.

Bello laughed and looked down at the dead men all around him, admiring his handy work.

“But why? Why are you here now?” I questioned him.

“Your words stuck with me.”

“My words?”

“When I asked you if you trusted me, what did you tell me?”

I recalled the conversation in my head. “I told you I didn’t.”

Bello nodded. “Correct. You didn’t trust me, and I couldn’t have a business contract with someone not trusting me. So I’ve been following you, figuring things out bit by bit. This Foster fellow was trouble to you, was he not?”

“Yes. Definitely.”

“And you were in trouble tonight, were you not?”

“I would be dead right now if not for you, Bello.”

“Ah.” Bello laughed again. “I killed these men for you for one reason only, Nicky Cain. I wanted to earn your trust.”

He left me speechless.

“So,” Bello continued. “I just have one question to ask of you now.” He held out his arms. “Do you trust me now?”

I chuckled. “Hell yes, I trust you, Bello. Thank you, man. I mean it. You saved our asses tonight.”

He walked over to me and grabbed my hand, pulling me in for a manly hug. “Then all is well between us, my friend. Enjoy the rest of your night.” With that, Bello and his entire cavalry turned and walked back into the shadows they had come from.

“What the hell was that?” Seton asked.

I shrugged. “Don’t question it. Just go with it.”

Everyone laughed as we stepped over the dead bodies and back into our cars. We headed home for the night thinking how very lucky we were right now to still have air coming in and out of our lungs.

Back at the mansion, I took a long, hot shower and came out to find Lilah fast asleep on her side of the bed. I sat down and stared at her. All I could think about right now was what Foster had said. Did she really sleep with him, or had he just said that to get under my skin? I brushed back her hair with my hand. She stirred briefly but kept right on sleeping. She hadn’t known who Foster really was. She hadn’t told him anything. Everyone I had thought of as traitors…weren’t.

There was a knock on the door. “Nicky?” The elevator doors opened up. It was Augie. “You’re not going to like this.”

“What now?”

“The other half of your problem is downstairs waiting for you. I tried to get him to leave, but he says he has all the evidence he needs.”

The other half of my problem could only mean one thing—Detective Thomas. I got dressed and made my way down the elevator to the ground floor.

“What can I do for you?” I asked him, wishing he and Foster had been connected so he’d be dead right now.

The detective seemed pleased to see me. “Nicky Cain, you’re under arrest.”

“What?”

He put my hands behind my back. I jerked away from him.

“We can do this the easy way or the hard way,” he threatened me. “You choose.”

“Arrested for what?”

“Selling heroin along with other drugs.”

“Augie,” I said as the handcuffs were placed roughly on my wrists. “Call Remmy. Tell him what happened, and make this disappear.”

“Yeah, boss.”

“And wake up Lilah and tell her where I’m at.”

Augie nodded as I was hauled off to the backseat of the police car waiting outside.

EPILOGUE

CROSS

Sunlight poured into the room. I glanced at the sealed envelope one last time before deciding to put it on the desk and leave it there unopened. Nicky had been in jail for a while now serving his sentence. They had proved him guilty of dealing drugs. We’d been writing letters back and forth now for some time. They were difficult to read though. Sometimes he was in a good mood expressing how much he missed me and how sorry he was. Other times the letters were about how much he hated himself, the place he was at, and how he just wished things would end for him. Nevertheless, that’s where he was stuck at—for now.

I had gone to the prison once to visit him, but he refused to see me. I wasn’t wasting my time on that shit again. He explained how he couldn’t stand the thought of me actually seeing him in prison like that. I ignored that letter. He was like a sulking toddler. I wished Nicky would just accept that he was, in fact, guilty. That’s why he was there. He was guilty of many other things, and he should just be happy that the drugs were the only thing they could tie him in with or else he’d be spending the rest of his life behind bars. Remmy had tried to dispose of the evidence through his connections with the police, but somehow this Detective Thomas seemed above even Nicky’s payroll.

I’d been keeping busy with Cain Designs. Things were running so smoothly now. I had my own line up and running, too. I spent a lot of my hours there, and I was content with being a business owner and designer. In the evenings, I’d come back to the mansion. I’d changed things a little since Nicky was gone. I brought in all new furniture and painted some of the walls. I gave it a little touch of my own to make it my own. After all, I was the one who had to live here and wait for my boyfriend to get released. Surely Nicky would understand. I never told him about the changes in the letters. I didn’t want him to throw any more tantrums than he was already throwing.

I heard that Ham, one of Nicky’s new guys, had been caught during a drug run, and he had been the one to essentially turn Nicky in. I heard Ham had gotten arrested for his involvement also, but that soon after he got into prison, Ham got into a fight and ended up getting killed in that fight. Somehow I put two and two together and figured out that Nicky was the one to have probably gotten someone to end Ham’s life for being a rat.

I ran my fingers along the beautiful meeting table. It was polished and shiny. I looked around the empty room, my attention turning to the window that overlooked Haven. I had stood here with Nicky on many occasions listening to his dreams of taking over not only Haven, but other places as well. I pressed my palm against the glass. This mansion was now mine to do with as I pleased. I turned around and crossed my arms as I looked at the large table and chairs surrounding it. Business would have to continue as usual around here with Nicky gone. I walked over and took a seat at the head of the table. Yeah. Maybe—just maybe—I’d be the one running the show while Nicky wasted away in prison.