Page 4 of Murder & Mayhem
That was my last clue to Bailey. I’d left work early, nearly gotten fired, and booked it back to our apartment. Bailey’s phone, which, like mine, was a burner, had been destroyed in front of the apartment building and his backpack had been tossed, the contents scattered and half missing all over the street. That had been it, all that was left of my brother. I’d managed to beg and sweet-talk the building manager to let me look at the security camera in the front entrance. It was a crap angle, but I’d know that fucking Buick anywhere. Joey hadn’t even tried to hide it. He’d taken my brother off the fucking street in broad daylight and not a thing could be done about it.
I couldn’t go to the police. Technically, Joey still had custody of Bailey since he was a minor. In the eyes of the law, I’d been the one who’d kidnapped him and had him going to school under a fake name with documents I’d practically sold my soul to get. I didn’t have friends, Joey had made sure of that, and his crew’s influence was everywhere. This was my only chance.
Joey sat up and I flinched, staggering back.Damn it, Jamie. Get it together. He can’t hurt you anymore. Except he already had when he’d taken the one person I loved in the entire world.
“Word of advice, turn the safety off when you’re threatening to shoot someone.”
I whirled around at the sound of the voice coming from my right. A man I’d never seen before stood in front of me, completely relaxed even though I had a gun in his fucking face. One I’d apparently forgotten to take the safety off of. Shit. I hadn’t even thought about a weapon when I’d come here. I’dseen it on the end table and taken advantage of it. But I didn’t know shit about guns, and clearly whoever this guy was did.
He was youngish—older than I was, but not old enough to be running with Joey’s crew. Maybe in his late twenties? His nearly black hair had been cut short and close to his head, and his facial hair was neatly trimmed. His eyes were almost as dark as his hair and bored right into mine like he could decipher all my deep, dark secrets just by watching me. He had perfect, tanned skin, like maybe he was either Italian or Hispanic. I couldn’t be sure though. Oh, and he was wearing a fucking suit, minus the jacket. He had to be the hottest guy I’d ever seen in my fucking life.
For a moment, I forgot everything, my focus solely on this stranger. But then suddenly, he was moving. My finger twitched on the trigger on instinct, but the safety really was on, and he wasn’t coming for me anyway. When I’d been distracted, Joey must’ve tried for me because I really was the pathetic dumbass he’d always said I was and couldn’t do anything right.
But the stranger had seen, even if I hadn’t. And now he had the bane of my existence struggling for his life in his recliner, a gloved hand squeezing his throat.
“I don’t fucking think so, Joey. Today is still your day of reckoning. But it’s not him that’ll end you. It’s me.”
“No!” I screamed before I could stop it. I didn’t know who this guy was, and honestly, I didn’t care. Joey had pissed off a lot of people. It could easily be any number of organizations, gangs, MCs, or even some random dude off the street for all I knew. Hell, he could’ve been a family member of one of Joey’s victims. Normally, I’d be happy to let him end this asshole once and for all, but he couldn’t, not yet.
The stranger tilted his head so he could look at me, neverreleasing his hold on Joey’s throat. Joey thrashed, his fingers clawing at the stranger’s as he gasped for air, but the guy barely broke a sweat.
“No? Why is that? You looked like you were willing to kill him seconds ago.”
“H-he knows where my brother is. Please. Let him tell me and then I’ll get outta your way and you can do whatever you want to him. I just need to find Bailey first.”
I was still holding the gun, and maybe I should’ve figured out how to take off the safety and threaten this dude rather than beg, but judging by the fact that he hadn’t even bothered to try to disarm me, I wasn’t close to a threat to him. My luck, I’d end up shooting myself. Begging had always been my strongest tactic in the past, so maybe it would work again.
Suddenly, the stranger stopped choking the shit outta Joey. My former stepfather started coughing and gagging, desperate to get any air into his abused lungs. The man paid him no mind, his head tilted to the side like he was listening to someone.
“Bailey Sullivan?” he asked.
I shook, the gun slipping from my hand, proving how much of an idiot I really was. “H-how do you know that?”
“Yeah, how do you know that?” Joey asked, his voice raspy as he tried to stand up once again. “Who are you?”
Before Joey even had his ass up out of the chair, the stranger had pulled a knife out of fucking nowhere and had it buried to the hilt in Joey’s thigh.
“Sit the hell down, Joey.”
“Ahhhhh! Holy shit! What the fuck?” Joey screamed, his hands immediately going for the handle of the blade.
“Yeah, I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” the stranger said conversationally. “If you keep that where it is, you’ll live. Youpull it out, well, you’ll likely bleed out long before any medical care will get here. And while I don’t really give a shit about that, I’m now also interested in where Bailey is.”
“W-why?” Fuck. Why couldn’t I stop stammering? “He’s just a kid! I won’t let you hurt him!”
Joey laughed even through the pain. “That’s rich, acting like you’re the noble protector. C’mon, pretty boy, how many times did you kneel right there, crying and begging like the little bitch you are, while we all took turns with your brother? You can’t do shit.”
The room started to spin as the weight on my chest got too heavy to bear. Somewhere in my periphery, I was aware of the stranger punching Joey and saying something, but none of it meant anything.
Joey was right. Who the fuck did I think I was? I’d never been able to protect Bailey from all this. I’d tried. I had! But I’d always been a weak little bitch. Bailey had gotten hurt over and over and over again and I couldn’t stop it. I never could. And once again, I’d failed him . . .
“Buddy. Jameson. That’s your name, right? Can you hear me? I need you to breathe.”
The voice was strong and calm and so nice. So, so nice. I could listen to it all day.
“Jameson,” the voice said a little more authoritatively, “I’m gonna touch you now. But I’m not gonna hurt you, okay? You need to fucking breathe.”
Breathe? I wasn’t breathing? That was okay. Maybe if I stopped, everything would get better. No more pain. No more Joey. Something warm and soft touched my hand, and another one touched my cheek.
