Safe With Him (41 page)

“I am his fuckin’ second. I know everything he knows and more. He was the one too stupid to see the potential in having girls to go along with the drugs. What man don’t wanna get high and get fucked at the same time? But did he listen to me? Hell no! Said it was too risky. Said a girl could flip and start talking. I told him not if you keep them chained up and doped up. Enough dope in them and they wouldn’t care what the hell was done to them. But Hugo thought he was so smart, didn’t think it was a good idea. Looks like I showed him.” Warwick was on a tear and Draco let him continue his rant. That was something else Draco had learned about Warwick; piss him off enough and he forgot to check his tongue.

“A second would know who the inside man is. Do you? Do you fuckin’ know?”

“I don’t know. He probably don’t even have one.” Warwick back pedaled, trying to convince Draco, or was it himself? Because Draco knew there was.

“The way I’m seein’ it, the man’s a helluva lot smarter than you cuz he hasn’t been sharin’. Bet he got himself a set of girls and doin’ just like you said, just not including you. Or maybe he’s got plans to get rid of you.” Draco continued to egg him on, pushing to see if the man would spill anything else.

“He can’t get rid of me, I know too much,” Warwick stated with the confidence of the dumb.

“Yeah?”

“That’s right! Like his main business comes out of Richmond. Shipments of wood pellets are intercepted, the drugs mixed in with the wood, then the product is removed when it gets here and the wood pellets are shipped back out again to wherever it was being shipped to in the first place. I’m in charge of that. He needs me.” Warwick spilled out, still on his tear, not even realizing he was implicating himself in the process. Draco was taking mental notes as he continued on. “Then he has a few here in Roanoke, but they’re smaller businesses so the stuff is not as much, but it’s good shit. That’s what I’ve been using on the girls, and I’ve got no complaints.”

“No? Your
girls
seem to be complainin’ now.”

“I know that’s bullshit, cuz they stay too drugged up to complain.”

“Yeah, when’s the last time you drugged them? That shit wears off after a while.” Draco didn’t know what the man had been drugging the women with, but all drugs wore off sooner or later, otherwise fuckin’ drug dealers would be out of business.

Warwick stood dumbfounded for a beat, then two, as though he was really putting some thought behind that question. Then the stupid fuck actually looked at his watch and started counting on his fuckin’ fingers.
What the hell did Hugo really use him for
? It sure as hell was not his brain.

Warwick all of a sudden jerked his head up and looked at Draco. “I gotta go.”

Was the man fuckin’ serious? “I don’t think so.”

“Look, man, I really got to go. I got to get back to my girls. It’s been too long, and I sure as hell don’t need them getting any ideas.”

Was the dumb fuck serious? “Too late. Told you they’re with the cops now, spillin’ their fuckin’ guts.” Draco leaned into him. “All about you.”

“Your cops got my girls?” Warwick barked, and Draco watched the man become incensed as though this was new information.

“And they
are
talkin’ to the cops ‘bout you.”

“You set me up? You son-of-bitch,” Warwick wailed as he lunged for Draco.

Draco dodged the first punch Warwick attempted at his head, but not the second that landed in his gut. The punch was so hard that for a second Draco lost his breath. Then as Draco escaped the next fist that flew his way, he realized why Hugo kept Warwick around. Not for his brain but for his ability to fight, because Draco had to admit the son of a bitch could throw a hard fuckin’ hit. But then again, Draco’s fist hit pretty damn hard as well. Warwick discovered that fact as Draco’s fist landed a hit right below Warwick’s eye and watched his head snap back only a half a second before he drew back and landed his next punch dead center of the man’s already swollen nose with a crunch followed by a spray of blood. Draco couldn’t escape the blood that flew in every direction, but he did elude the next fist that came his way while at the same time he sent one flying himself. Draco swung out and again hit Warwick right below the same eye. This time Warwick stumbled back a step, then two, before he righted himself and came at Draco swinging. Only difference this time, Warwick had somehow managed to pull out a knife and was swinging it back and forth as he came toward Draco. The blade sliced across Draco’s forearm as he blocked Warwick’s attempt to slice up his chest, and Draco was forced to take a step back. Warwick must have also taken a step or two back because now they were just far enough apart that neither could reach the other. For a beat, the two stood just eyeing each other. Neither of them spoke, both of them breathing hard, as Warwick waved the knife back and forth without coming any closer. Draco watched, learning his movements.

“Gotta take you out now,” Warwick stated boldly as he continued to wave the knife around. “You know too much to just let you walk away.”

Draco saw the hilt of the knife clinched tight in Warwick’s fist only a half a heartbeat before the man charged straight at him, raising the knife only a split second before Draco jerked his upper body to the side, his shoulder only catching a piece of the blade before he brought his arm up. Draco’s forearm slammed into Warwick’s forearm, causing not only the knife to go flying but Warwick to stumble back, his back hitting the side of the building. Draco moved, reached out, and grabbed the man by the throat.

Draco’s mind flashed back, him thirteen, standing next to his father as his father was calmly discussing something Draco didn’t understand with another man, and in the blink of an eye, Draco’s father had the man pressed back against the wall, hands around the man’s throat…squeezing. A thirteen-year-old Draco stood terrified and watched his father squeeze the life out of another man. When the body dropped to the floor, Draco’s father turned back to face him. “You will learn to kill just like me, my son.”

Draco blinked once, Warwick’s face coming back into view, and Draco realized he had both his hands around the man’s throat…squeezing. Draco saw the fight leave Warwick’s eyes along with the awareness that he was about to die…
just like me
,
my son,
his father’s words echoing in his head.
Just like me. Just like me.
“I’m not my father’s son,” Draco growled deep in his throat as he dropped his hands from around Warwick’s neck and stepped back as the wheezing man fell to the ground.

Draco took a step back. He would not kill like his father. He would never become his father. He turned his back on the one man who almost pushed Draco to a point he knew he would never come back from. He pulled out his phone to call it in. He was and always would be, a good cop. He had only taken a few steps before the gun went off.

Bree sat on the small cot next to Storm’s bed. Storm had been asleep for a while now, but just like every night, Bree didn’t sleep much. She sat and worried. Someone had called Storm a few times to keep him updated, and though Bree didn’t know all the details, she knew by the way they all left earlier that there was some ‘cop stuff’ going on. Storm did tell her, after a few phone calls, that Marcus Warwick had been released just hours after she had given her statement. And Marcus was the one who shot Storm, though he wouldn’t tell her why or what happened that caused the head wound. At least now she understood the ‘police protection.’
Though it would have been nice to know this beforehand
. And she also learned, either by Storm telling her or her overhearing his sides of the phone conversations, that Marcus had kidnapped, drugged, and was keeping a group of women chained up in order to sell them as prostitutes, when in reality they were kept so drugged up they had no say in anything that was happening to them. They had all checked in with Storm, except Draco. There was still no word from him, and he wasn’t answering his phone. Bree held her phone in her hand, rolling it over and over in her palm.
Should I call? Will he answer? Will he even want me to call
?

“Hey?” She heard whispered from the door.

She looked to see Cole standing just inside the door. “Hey,” she whispered back as she made her way to the door. “Storm’s asleep.”

“Yeah, I noticed,” Cole answered softly as he backed out of the room and into the hall with Bree following him. “Wanna grab a cup of coffee or something from the cafeteria with me?”

Bree shrugged her shoulders. “Sure. Not like I was going to sleep anytime soon.”

They walked down the hall to the elevator and made their way to the cafeteria together, both lost in their own thoughts.

“How’d…uh…things go tonight?” Bree finally asked as they sat down at one of the many empty tables. “I mean, with the women? Are they going to be okay? Will they get the help they need to maybe, I don’t know, have some kind of normal life again?”

“Yeah, guess so.” Cole tried to shrug it off.

“Cole,” Bree started as she reached out and patted his hand. “Even big strong cowboy-ish cops feel something when someone’s been hurt.”

He looked at her for a beat, and Bree could see a deep, long ago pain reflected in his eyes. “How do you know ‘bout what happened tonight?”

“Storm.”

“It’s police business. He shouldn’t have told you.”

“He didn’t tell me much, but I did hear him on the phone. Even from a one sided conversation, you can learn a lot.”

“He shouldn’t have been talking about it with you in the room either.”

“Was it really that bad?” she asked him softly, but she already knew, heard it in Storm’s voice while he was on the phone, and now looking at Cole she could see the weariness on his face.

“Yeah.”

“You want to talk about it?”

“No.”

“Cole, I know you and I haven’t known each other all that long, but you were there for me when I needed someone, and I don’t think I ever as much as said thank you. So...” She rose up, leaned over the table, and lightly kissed his cheek before she sat back down. “Thank you.” She smiled a little at him. “I can return the favor anytime you just need someone, a non-macho-cop-someone, to just listen.”

He sat quietly for a long moment and only smiled that same sad smile that he had been giving her since they had first met, the one she had thought was because he was so worried about Storm. Now she was beginning to wonder if it was something more; something that had nothing to do with Storm seemed to do with a pain from long ago.

“I get it.” Was his surprising reply.

“Get what?” she asked, confused.

“Why so many would be willing to risk so much for you.”

“What do you mean?”

“Draco. Storm. Everything Storm did to ensure your safety. I know you’re his sister and all, and I guess that’s part of it, but you, the type of person you are…I get it.”

“How do you know what…
type
of person I am?” Bree asked cautiously.

“I know where you came from. I know from Storm a lot more about you than I probably should, but I do know. And in all the years Storm talked about you, told me about you, honestly, I didn’t really expect you to be the ‘you’ sittin’ across from me.”

“What did you expect?”

“Honestly?”

“Yes, honestly. Who or what did you think I would be like?”

“I didn’t think you would be as sweet or caring a person as you are. I know I wouldn’t if I had been through half the shit you had.” He shook his head. “No way in hell would I have that to give, and you do, Bree, whether you realize it or not, you care. Hell, woman, you care about women you’ve never met and probably never will.”

“You do. You might think you don’t. You might pretend you don’t, but I’m looking right at you and what happened tonight…you care.” When he said nothing, only looked away from her as though he was back there, or back somewhere, she asked, “It was really bad, wasn’t it?” She meant it as a statement but it came out more as a question, but before she could say anything else, he answered.

“Fuck, Bree, he had them chained up like fuckin’ dogs,” he growled, then his eyes lost focus, and she wasn’t sure if he was talking to her or himself. “There was one, she was tiny…so fuckin’ tiny, and just looking at her you could tell she shouldn’t be that thin.” He looked back to her, but seemed not to see her. “I think she was being starved.” Cole again looked past Bree. “She was sick. So sick, and chained to the fuckin’ wall like…like…” He jerked, almost like coming out of a trance or nightmare. “Fuck!” he growled into his hands as he scrubbed his face. “I’m sorry, Bree. I shouldn’t be tellin’ you this shit. Hell, I’m not supposed to say anything outside of the unit.”

“I won’t say anything to anyone, but maybe you should be talking. If not to me, then to someone.” She reached for his hand again. “Cole, I’m not going to pry and ask you to tell me more than you feel comfortable saying, but I also think that what happened tonight brought back something else, something that happened before tonight. And just know that if you need me, I’m here for you.”

He stared at her before his small sad smile appeared. “Thanks, Bree.”

Then she smiled. “Anytime, cowboy.”

“I’m not a damn cowboy.” He contradicted but added a smile that almost, but not quite, reached his eyes.

“You should do that more often.”

“Do what?”

She looked at him, her smile growing bigger. “Smile,” she said just as Cole’s phone went off, and he was back in cop mode.

Cole shook his head as he pulled out his phone and read the text message. When he looked back at her, all the mirth was gone from his face. “Let’s go.” He jumped up from the table, grabbed both their cups. “You wanna take this with you?” He held out her cup.

“No, I don’t like coffee,” she answered absently. “What’s wrong? What was in that text?”

“Why did you order coffee if you don’t like it?” He tossed both cups in the trash at the same time
not
answering the more important questions.

“I didn’t order it, you did, but that doesn’t matter. What was in that text?” she asked again as they both raced out of the cafeteria and to the closest elevator. “Did something happen with Storm?” She paused her steps. “Oh God, is Storm all right?”

Cole took a step back, grabbed her arm and tugged her into the elevator just as the doors opened, hit a button, then turned to her. “Bree, breathe. Storm is fine. The text wasn’t about him.”

“Okay.” She breathed a sigh of relief. “Okay,” she repeated. “So what is going on?”

“I’m not sure, it just said Draco downstairs.”

Draco? Downstairs? ED?
Draco in the emergency room…department…whatever
. “Is Draco okay?” She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, Draco was hurt
. How? Why? Who?
So many thoughts ran in her head she didn’t hear Cole’s answer.

“Bree!”

“Uh?”

“Bree!” Cole shouted, and she felt the shake to her body.

“Go, Ryder’s waiting for you.”

She looked down the hall, saw Ryder standing at Storm’s door looking right at her, and she turned back to Cole, who had apparently helped her out of the elevator, then stepped back in as the doors were starting to close again. Bree threw her arm up, grabbed the doors, causing them to automatically open back up. “Where are you going? What happened? Is Draco okay?”

With his phone held to his ear with one hand, he reached out with the other and covered Bree’s that still held the door. “I promise you, Bree, I will let you know as soon as I find out what’s going on, but right now I need you to stay with Storm so Ryder can watch out for you.” She nodded, dropped her hand, and turned to walk back to Storm’s room, but right as the doors closed she heard Cole, “How bad was he shot?”

Bree didn’t even know she had hit the floor until she was in Ryder’s arms and being carried back to Storm’s room.

“Ree!” Storm called as they entered the room. “What the hell happened to my sister?”

“Dra,” Bree breathed as Ryder placed her on the bed beside Storm. She felt Storm’s arms around her, holding her to him, him calling her name, but she couldn’t answer, couldn’t find the words, wouldn’t voice out loud what was echoing in her head.
How bad was he shot? …was he shot…shot…shot
. Over and over the words bounced around, all she could hear, all she could think, all that she knew…Draco had been shot.

“Ryder, what the hell is wrong with her?”

“Exited the elevator. Hit the floor.” She heard Ryder tell Storm.

“Ree, did you fall? Are you hurt?” Storm rubbed her back.

Bree sat up, looked at Storm as she slid off the bed, turned and looked at Ryder before she looked back at Storm again. “I hate cops!” she screeched just as she busted out crying. “All y’all do is get shot!”

Before either knew what she was doing, she raced to the door, then out, and didn’t stop until she reached the elevator. The doors were opening and a few people were getting off as she pushed her way past and started jamming at the button to the floor of the emergency department, over and over, until the doors closed. When they opened again she stepped out and into an unfamiliar hall. She glanced one way, then the other, before she spotted the large automatic doors, ran to them slapping at the button that opened the doors. She rushed through them before they even had the chance to open fully, then down the short hall until it split in two different directions. Bree stood, peering left and right, seeing there were glass cubicles in both directions and everyone she could see had the curtains drawn. She wanted to scream, she wanted to cry, she wanted…wanted…Draco.

Then she heard that oh so familiar, “Fuckin’ hell,” groaned harshly.

“Dra.” Bree sighed, then rushed in the direction of the cubicle she knew Draco was in, but when she reached for the curtain she froze.
Would he even want me here?
He hadn’t called her, spoken to her, and the one time he did come to Storm’s room, he didn’t even look at her. She took a step back.
He doesn’t want me here, because he doesn’t want me
. His job was done. He had looked out for her, kept her safe just as he promised Storm he would do. Now he could get on with his life without her. That thought, as painful as it was, she still knew she couldn’t walk away and not know for sure that Draco was going to be okay. She took that one step to the curtain, then pulled it back just enough for her to peek in. There he was, sitting up on the side of the bed, his big strong legs over the side, feet on the floor. His shirt was off and he had what looked like a few light bruises and scratches on his chest. He had a bandage wrapped around one forearm and someone was adding another one to his shoulder, but other than that, he looked fine. No, better than fine. He looked…incredible. He looked like her Dra, the man she fell in love with, the man she knew she would always love. Her, “Dra,” she mumbled before she let the curtain fall.

She spun around to see Cole standing there. It hit her like a knife rammed into her chest, her Dra wasn’t hers, never was, never would be. She collapsed into Cole. “It’s okay, sweetheart, it’s gonna be okay,” he whispered as he picked her up and carried her back down the hall toward the elevator.

*  *  *

Draco sat on the side of the bed while the nurse taped the bandage over his newly stitched up shoulder, after she had jabbed a needle in his arm for infection, he was told. The way the woman seemed to gleam as she stabbed him with that damn needle, he was thinking it was more for torture than infection. All he wanted to do was get the hell out of here and find his brother. It had been Marco who fired the shot that took out Marcus Warwick. When Draco had turned his back on Warwick thinking the man was too far out of it to try anything. That was Draco’s mistake.
I’m a cop for fuck’s sake. I was trained to know better. I do know better. Never, fuckin’ never, turn your back to the enemy
. When Draco turned his back, Warwick pulled a gun at the same time Marco had come back around the corner. Marco saw Warwick point the gun at Draco’s back and fired a kill shot before Warwick had a chance to pull the trigger.
Yeah, I fucked up and my brother saved my ass
. Draco tried to take the gun from Marco, told him that he would take the fall for everything that went down tonight. But, after it was called in and, fuck if the captain himself didn’t show up at the scene, Marco told the captain himself what had happened. Marco was taken to the station for questioning, and Draco was ordered to go to the hospital to get stitched up.