Wicked Break (19 page)

“I'm not gonna help you kill anyone,” I said.

Linc stared hard at me for a moment, as if he couldn't believe what I was saying. Then he shrugged. “Fine.”

“Fine?”

“I don't need your help.”

I stood. “Yeah, you do.”

He sneered. “Oh, right. You've done such a bang up job so far on all this.”

The sympathy that I'd been feeling for the kid for the last few minutes was quickly shifting into anger. “And if your brother had been smart and just left you alone, I wouldn't have been dragged into any of this.”

He turned away from me. “Fuck off.”

I grabbed his arm and spun him back. “Hey. You think I don't feel bad about what's happened? To your brother and Malia and Rachel? I do. And I wanna get it set straight. But you hunting down a bunch of assholes and killing them does nothing. For anyone.”

“Does for me,” he said, and lunged at me with his free arm.

His fist glanced off my shoulder. I slid my hand down to his wrist and twisted hard. His face screwed up into a knot of pain and I kicked his legs out from under him. He landed with a thud, the air rushing out of his chest.

“You can't even take me out,” I said. “And I'm not even close to being as dangerous as Mo or Deacon or any of those other guys.”

The adrenaline surge made my skin tingle. I watched Linc lay on the floor and try to get his breath back. He was wincing, the pain in his back probably surprising him. Landing flat on your spine will do that.

“The best place for you is somewhere safe,” I said.

He grunted. “Where's that?”

I ignored the question. “I will take care of this,” I said. “I'm better equipped.”

“You weren't yesterday. You couldn't save Malia.”

I resisted the urge to plant my foot in his ribs. “Neither could you, asshole. However, I will make sure Lonnie and Mo pay for what they did to Peter and Malia. And I will make sure that Deacon and his boys back off.”

“I can do it myself,” he said, sounding like a four-year-old trying to use a fork for the first time.

“No, you can't,” I said.

He pushed himself up into a sitting position, reaching around to rub his back. “Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why do you care?” he asked. “My brother hired you. He's…gone. It's none of your business anymore.”

Lonnie and Mo had made it my business, but I didn't feel the need to explain that to Linc.

“I promised your aunt,” I said, telling him part of the truth. “I told her I'd find you.”

“You did that.”

“My promises are all-inclusive. Finding you means keeping you safe.”

“I can keep myself safe.”

“Really? That why you're hiding out here? That why you were hiding behind Malia's door when I showed up?”

His chin dropped and he looked away from me, his jaw locked tight.

I sat down in the chair. “Linc, I'm not trying to embarrass you. But you're in over your head right now. You've told me as much. I'll clean it up. It's what I do.”

He picked at his shoelaces, his head still hung. He looked like a puppy that wasn't sure how to grow up.

“They killed my brother and my girlfriend,” he said quietly. “I'm not gonna let that go.”

“I'm not asking you to. I'm telling you that I will take care of it. It's better that way.”

He grunted and then looked up at me, confusion and frustration on his face. “What am I supposed to do in the meantime?”

This was the part I didn't know how to explain to him yet.

“I'm gonna put you someplace where no one can get to you,” I said, pulling out my cell phone.

He smirked. “Where? The Arctic Circle?”

I scrolled through the phone book, looking for the number I wanted. “A lot closer than that.”

The smirk changed to wariness. “Where?”

“Jail,” I said.

“What the fuck?” Linc said, leaping to his feet and knocking the phone out of my hand.

Lunging out of the chair, I caught Linc right in the sternum and shoved him backward. His head popped back when he hit the sofa and cracked against the wall. Before he had a chance to recover, I rolled him over onto his stomach and put my knee into his back. A holding cell was the safest place for him right now, even if he didn't understand that.

“Linc, trust me,” I said

“Yeah, Linc. Trust the homeboy,” a voice said behind us.

I turned around.

Deacon and Wesley were standing in the doorway, each armed and smiling like they'd won the lottery.

Deacon jerked his head at Wesley. “Check the rest of the place.”

Wesley dutifully moved out of the room with his TEC-9 and disappeared into the back of the house.

“Bring it out,” Deacon said to me, fixing a massive handgun on me. “Slow.”

I moved off of Linc and reached around to my waistband, pulling out my Glock.

“Lay it down.”

I did.

He looked at Linc. “You been runnin' from me, boy.”

Linc rolled over and stared at him, no fear or anger on his face. Just resolution.

“But you knew I'd catch you,” Deacon said, smiling at him. “One of my boys was watching your crib this morning, and damn if he don't see some dude look just like you hauling ass outta there.” His smile got bigger. “Can't nobody run from me.”

“Empty,” Wesley said, coming back into the room. “Some guns are back here, though.”

They were smart. Deacon stood by the front door and Wesley stood behind us. We were in the middle and cut off from any exit.

“I'm sorry about your sister,” I said, looking to buy a little time and try to throw him off track.

Rage bubbled up in his eyes. “Fuck you, you motherfucker. Don't talk about my sister.”

“I tried to help her,” I said.

“Great fuckin' job.”

“He tried to help her,” Linc said. “We both did.”

Deacon's eyes shot fury in Linc's direction. “You didn't fuckin' help my sister, you white cocksucker. It was your goddamn fault that she ended up like she did.”

“I didn't want it that way,” Linc said. “I didn't. I just wanted to be with her.”

“You are so fucked up, boy,” Deacon said. “I mean, so fucked up, okay? You think I was gonna let my sister date a little piece of shit like you? For real?”

Linc stayed quiet.

“She didn't need you screwing her up, man,” Deacon continued. “She was gonna do something, alright? Get the fuck out of our ghetto house and do something with her life. But then you went and got all gigolo on her. And now she's dead, motherfucker. Dead like you're gonna be.”

Linc stared at the floor. “I loved her.”

Deacon took a step toward him, his muscles rigid. “What, motherfucker?”

“I loved her.”

Deacon shoved the barrel of the gun against Linc's forehead. “Say it again, motherfucker. Say it again.”

“He loved her,” I said, trying to draw his attention.

Deacon moved the gun in my direction. “What the fuck you know?”

“They wanted to be together,” I said.

Deacon's nostrils flared, his eyes ready to burst out of his head. “She ain't here to love now, boy, is she? She gone and neither of y'all did shit to stop it.”

“Not true,” I said. “Think what you want. I'm sorry she's dead. But Linc and I tried to prevent it.” I paused, weighing my words. “If anyone's responsible, it's you.”

Deacon took several slow steps back, looking at me in disbelief. “I know you didn't just say that.”

“Those guys just swooped in and took her,” I said. “Come on, man. No one was looking out for her. You were sleepin' on the job.”

Deacon shook his head, anger flooding his eyes. “No. Fuck you, man. This is your fault.”

“And what the hell, Deacon?” I continued, figuring I was already in deep. “You always wanna kill guys that date your sister? Maybe if you hadn't shot his friend and acted like a maniac, Linc wouldn't have had to hide from you and I wouldn't have had to start looking for him.” I paused. “If he doesn't have to hide from you, maybe Malia is left out of all this. And she'd be alive.”

Deacon's hand clenched tighter on the gun. My words weren't backing him off. He was looking for payback for his sister's murder and he wasn't going to stop until he got it.

“And bottom line,” I said, “neither of us pulled the trigger.”

He blinked and I thought maybe I'd gotten through to him, maybe hit on the tiny part of reason that was left in his mind.

But then it was gone.

“I don't give a shit about none of that,” he said. “All I know is my sister's dead and she was fine until you two motherfuckers showed up in her life.”

He had a point.

“Wizard give you the okay on this?” I asked, looking to buy some time. “On taking us out? I mean, I know you can't do anything without his approval.”

Moreno walked slowly toward me, the gun aimed at the center of my forehead. He pressed the barrel into my skull.

“Listen up, you cocksucker,” he said quietly. “I can do whatever the fuck I want. You understand that?”

“Didn't seem that way to me when I talked to Wizard,” I said evenly.

“Wizard don't control me,” he said, his voice now rising. “No one does. Wizard's in charge 'cause he likes all the business and shit. Thinks he's some sort of professional dude.” He shook his head. “He just like the rest of us, just more of a pussy. That motherfucker doesn't even remember what it's like to put a bullet in anybody no more. Lets us do all his fuckin' work now.”

I'd hit a chord. Deacon Moreno was not happy being an underling. He didn't appreciate having to answer to Matellion.

“So fuck Wizard and fuck you,” he said.

He pressed the gun harder into my forehead. I could feel the cold metal digging into my skin.

“How's that feel, homeboy?” he asked, grinning like a madman.

“Great,” I said, thinking I'd made a huge mistake by ever talking to Peter Pluto on the beach.

“Then you're gonna love this, motherfucker,” he said. “Good-night.”

I didn't want to die looking at Deacon Moreno's face.

But I didn't think I had any choice.

The gunshot shattered the silence.

I flinched.

Deacon Moreno's crazy smile melted from his face. He fell toward me.

I stepped back and let him hit the floor. A dark red spot was mushrooming in the center of his back.

Wesley's TEC-9 was pointed where Deacon had been standing.

“People shouldn't talk shit about Wizard,” he said, lowering the gun. “Easy to get dead that way.”

I looked at Linc. His arms were wrapped tight around his chest, his eyes wide with shock.

“Uh, thanks,” I said to Wesley, my heart thumping hard in my chest. “I think.”

“Don't thank me,” Wesley said. “Just doing what I'm told.”

“Who told you to shoot your partner?”

Wesley turned around. Wizard Matellion stepped into the room, Big Ollie following close behind. Wizard nodded at Moreno's body. Ollie walked over, lifted him up like he was a pen that had rolled off a table, placed him on his shoulder, and headed toward the back of the house.

“You alright?” Matellion asked.

“Fine,” I said.

“Was afraid old Deacon might try something like this,” he explained. “That's why I had Wesley prepared. We kinda planned on this, so Wesley was instructed to call me—discreetly, of course—and let us know when and where. He made sure a door was unlocked for us.”

I looked at Wesley. He'd found a straw somewhere and was now chewing it furiously.

Linc continued to hug himself.

“Don't get me wrong,” Matellion said, grinning. “I'm not in love with you or nothing. I just can't deal with insubordination. Shootin' folks has its place, but not when it's not called for.”

The logic of criminals had saved me.

“You asked the other day about a couple of things,” Matellion continued. “I did not know about either the girl or the incident that involved you. You made me aware. But those things were done without my permission. They were personal for Deacon and that was unfortunate.”

“So he definitely was the person who shot the girl at the apartment?” I asked.

Matellion looked at Wesley.

“Deacon was pissed that his sister was dating a white dude.” Welsey explained. “Then, when he found out this dude wasn't even square with his sister, he went cold crazy.” He paused. “He couldn't find this dude, so he decided next best thing to do was to get the other girl.”

His use of the word “he” was interesting. I assumed Wesley had been along for the ride for what had occurred but was hanging it all on Deacon. Understandable, now that Deacon couldn't defend himself.

“Then he seen you at the girl's apartment when he rolled up,” Wesley said. “Had to wait for you to leave before he could get it done.”

“Did he know who I was?”

A wry smile formed on Wesley's face. “Next morning, Deacon sent one of our boys back to the apartment.” The smile got a little bigger. “That fat white dude will tell anybody anything for a price.”

Rolovich. What a surprise.

“So, when he heard you was an investigator, he thought you might get to this dude before he did and Deacon wouldn't have been able to take care of business. He wanted white boy here all to himself,” Wesley continued. “That's why the thing happened with you down in Mission Beach. Was hoping to put you out of commission.”

“What do you mean, I wasn't square with Malia?” Linc asked, coming back to life.

Wesley eyed him for a moment. “Man, you told us about the other chick. What Deacon supposed to think?”

“It was bullshit,” Linc said.

Wesley shrugged.

Linc dropped his head into his hands. “Nothing happened with Rachel after I met Malia. I wouldn't have done that.”

I looked at Wesley. He shrugged again.

“I couldn't care less about any of this,” Matellion said, rubbing his chin and looking at me. “I trust that as far as y'all are concerned, nothing happened here today?”

“You give me your word that you have no interest in him?” I said, nodding at Linc.

“I'm gonna forget his name as soon as we walk out of here,” Matellion said, grinning and flashing those bright white teeth.

“Then we're gonna forget we were ever here,” I said, ready to get the hell out of there.

“One more thing,” he said, shoving his hands in the pockets of his sweatpants. “You know who killed Malia Moreno?”

“Why?”

“Deacon may have acted without my permission, but he was still a brother,” he said, his voice dropping. “And I look out for my brothers. Any motherfucker that messes with my brother's family messes with me. Know what I'm saying?”

It would have been so easy to pass along Lonnie's name to Wizard Matellion. He could've taken care of him and Mo in any number of ways that wouldn't have involved me. Wiped them off the face of the earth and made the world a better place with no one the wiser.

“No,” I said. “I don't know who did it.”

Matellion stared at me for a moment, his eyes hard like when he'd warned us about returning to his neighborhood. Finally, they changed and the killer's edge was gone.

“You hear anything,” he said, “you let me know.”

He turned and left the room.

Wesley looked at me for a moment, the straw bouncing up and down in his mouth.

“You tell Carter I wouldn't mind another shot at him one of these old days,” he said.

Wesley chuckled as he followed Matellion out of the room.

I hoped there wouldn't be any more of these old days.