Miles high, p.20
Miles High, page 20
part #4 of Grimm Tales of Smoky Vale Series
“Rubble.”
“Daddy.”
I smiled at his insistence. “Daddy, I have a bad feeling about this.”
“That’s fine as long as you let me take care of this. By the way, how are we going to do this? Are you moving in with me?”
“Isn’t that too soon?”
“Then I move in with you for a while,” he said. “It’s either that, or you give me a name.”
Slowly I nodded. “You can stay.” I’d feel safer with him here.
“Good, I need to double-check when the tech guy should get here today.” He frowned at me.
“What’s that look for?”
“I’m sorry, but you’re going to have to quit the restaurant job, babe.”
“But how will I support myself?”
“That’s why you have a Daddy, remember? Don’t worry about it.” He stroked the side of my face. “We should probably take a shower. Mort texted me that the boys are coming over to cheer you up.”
“They are?” My stomach churned. “They should stay away. I don’t want anyone hurt because of me.”
“They won’t stay away, Miles. Just as I won’t, so let us be there for you.”
We managed to have breakfast and clean up the kitchen before Mort turned up with Jamie, Fable, and Cass in tow. Rubble and I met them at the door just as they drove in, Mort riding behind Jamie’s car. They jumped out of the car and made a beeline for me, swarming around me in a flurry of arms and hugs.
“Miles, why didn’t you tell us you were in trouble?” Cass asked, embracing me hard. “We would’ve gotten the team together sooner.”
Grateful for their presence more than they could ever know, I returned his hug. “I didn’t want to bother anyone with my problems.”
“You’ll never bother us, sweetie. Let’s go have a seat where we can talk. I’m pretty sure Mort and Rubble have lots to discuss.”
I glanced at Rubble, who nodded at me. “Mort and I will be outside.”
I led the boys to the living room, and only when we took a seat did I realize Jamie hadn’t come in with us.
“Is there anything we can do for you?” Fable asked me. “Anyone you need to have investigated or shot?” He whispered the last word. “We can make people disappear.”
My mouth fell open. I would never have guessed Fable to be the one to make this sort of proposition.
“I don’t know what we can do just yet,” I said. “Once I’m staying with Rubble, I should be safe.” I only hoped like hell I was right. That Tempus Black wouldn’t think I was worth the risk when he had so many other boys to play with.
“Good,” Cass said. “And if you need extra protection, Rubble should take you to the clubhouse. It’s like a safe house, and no one gets in there who’s not approved.”
“But I don’t want to live like a prisoner.”
Beside me, Fable shuddered. “I can’t blame you. I know what that’s like. Lived it practically my entire life.”
Jamie entered then. He looked pretty in a pair of tight jeans and an off-the-shoulder ruffled light pink top.
“Where did you go?” Fable asked him.
“I had to check Rubble’s dressing,” he said. “Everything is healing nicely, although I don’t like that he’s been on that leg so often.”
My heart sank. All my fault. He might as well have said it.
“I’m glad he’s okay,” I said. “I feel it might have been my fault.”
“I think we’ve all felt that way at some point, right, guys?” Jamie asked. “Our men have been in dangerous situations with and without our help.”
“More often with our help,” Fable murmured.
“And they know we can be a handful, but they love us anyway,” Cass said. “Rubble isn’t different.”
“What exactly is going on with you?” Jamie asked.
“My father and I owe a loan shark. He’s been making me do things to pay off what he thinks we owe him.”
“Those are the worst kinds,” Jamie said. “My dad and Uncle Ben had to work on a few cases with men like that. They are truly horrible, preying on people and charging impossible rates.”
“Exactly, but we needed the money to pay for a surgery for me, and we didn’t have any other choice.”
Cass took my hand and laced our fingers. “It sucks when you feel like you don’t have a choice. I did something very dumb once when I thought I didn’t have an option and almost lost Mort because of it.”
“You should tell Rubble who’s responsible,” Jamie said. “That’s the only way we can put an end to this.”
“But there will be another war in town just like what happened before. More people will die. I don’t want anyone to die because of me.”
Two were enough.
A string of loud popping sounds went off outside. Bullets. One shattered the window. Someone screamed.
“Get down!”
Jamie grabbed Fable, and Cass threw me onto the floor. I covered my ears with my hands as the shooting continued.
Oh no, no, no. Please god, no.
The men were outside. We had the walls of the building protecting us, but they were outside in the open. It was just as I’d feared.
Almost as soon as the gunshots started, they stopped. It lasted less than thirty seconds. Silence filled the room.
“Is everyone okay?” Jamie asked. “Are any of you hit?”
“Oh my god, Mort’s out there!” Cass scrambled to his feet. “Mort!”
“Cass, wait!” Jamie called. “We don’t know what’s out there.”
But Cass didn’t stop. He sprinted out the door, screaming his husband’s name, the sound heart wrenching and painful to hear.
Rubble.
I needed to find Rubble.
I needed to know he was okay.
Jamie and Fable were on their feet. I was too numb to move.
“Stay with him, Fable. Don’t let him out of your sight.”
I sat up against the sofa, with my knees to my chest, my arms tight around them. This was all my fault. All my fault.
I couldn’t breathe.
Chapter 22
Rubble
“It’s a wonder your leg is healing well,” Jamie said as he changed the dressing. His touch was gentle despite his scolding tone. “I thought I told you to stay off your feet as much as possible.”
“This was as much as possible,” I said. “Miles is in trouble.”
“I get that.” He checked the bandage was secure in place, then got to his feet. “But you have to take care of yourself to take care of him. Remember that.”
He patted my shoulder, then disappeared inside the house, where the other three boys already were. I was left sitting on the steps with Mort.
“What exactly is going on with Miles?” he asked when we were alone. “You didn’t go into details last night when you texted me.”
“It’s bad.” I brought him up to date with everything Miles had been going through. The look of utter disbelief on his face was exactly what I’d felt when Miles had come clean to me.
“No, I can’t believe this.” Mort shook his head. “If he was going through all that, he would’ve told me.”
“Man, we’re messing around, and he only told me last night. He still hasn’t given me a name.”
“We worked together for months,” he said slowly as if still processing everything I’d said. “He never once showed any signs that he suffered through all this. Why didn’t he tell me? Miles is like the brother I wish I’d had instead of the one I got. He must have known I would’ve done something about it.”
“This fucker’s mine, Mort.”
“As he should be. He’s been doing this to Miles since he was fifteen?”
“Yeah.” I braced my arm on the step above me. “Apparently, that bastard had left Miles alone for a long time, but the troubles he’s been having lately are because he got involved with me.”
“It’s official, then. You two are together?”
“If you ask me, it’s been official since the day I brought him your wedding invitation letter. That boy’s all mine, Mort. All mine.”
“So what are we going to do about this?”
“Maybe the boys can get him to confide in them?”
“Do you think that will work?”
“Probably not. If he doesn’t want to involve us because he fears we’ll wind up hurt, he’ll definitely not put the boys in that situation. He’s torn up about what happened to Angel, Mort.”
“He is? I thought we put that to rest. If anyone’s to be held responsible for Angel’s death, it’s me. I was the one who asked him to look out for Miles. I was the one who got the club involved in that mess.”
We fell silent, both lost in our own thoughts. I had to find a way to get Miles to trust me enough to give me a name. I didn’t care if the guy left him alone now that he was with me. No sin against Miles would go unpunished. I wouldn’t be satisfied until the man paid.
“I got an idea.” I turned to face Mort. “Don’t you guys have a secret member in the PD?”
“Yeah, we do, but we only approach him when it’s absolutely necessary. The last thing we want is for him to be associated with us.”
“Think he’d be able to provide us with a list of loan sharks in the area? I have someone I can ask about the underground fighting.”
Mort frowned. “Underground fighting? I think I may have something. At least somewhere to start.”
“There’s someone I was going to meet later to ask him about that, but what do you got?”
“Just that there’s—get down!” Mort shoved me just as a black sedan stopped at the curb and shots were fired. Using the momentum of Mort’s push, I dove to the right and hit the pavement. Motherfuckers had come well armed this time. Windows shattered, and wood splintered wherever the bullets struck.
I crawled on my stomach in front of Miles’s car to use it as a cover. Grunting at the pain in my leg, I leaned against the side and removed my gun from my back. The screeching of a fleeing car had me pushing myself to my feet. I raised my arm, but the car was too far.
“Fuck, they got away.”
I limped back toward Mort and froze. He was lying on the steps, bright spots of red pooling the front of his shirt.
“Fuck! Fuck!” I hobbled toward him as fast as I could, gritting my teeth against the pain in my leg. “Mort!” The red spots grew larger, soaking the front of his shirt.
I dropped onto my knees beside him and grabbed the hem of his shirt, ripping the material. I stumbled back at the bullet holes that riddled his chest. Not one. Not two. There was too much blood for me to be sure.
“Don’t-don’t let Cass see me like this,” Mort groaned. His hands were covered in his blood. “Tell him-tell him I’ll always love him.”
“No, you tell him yourself, you son of a bitch.” I shrugged off my cut and used it to press down on the wounds to stop the bleeding. His shout of pain almost drove me back, but I kept the compression on his chest. “Don’t you dare fucking die on me, Mort. He’ll never forgive himself. Don’t you fucking die.”
“Take care of Cass. Promise me.”
“You’re the only one who can,” I growled, alarmed when his eyes drifted shut. “Listen to me. You need to stay awake!” I looked up at the front door. “Jamie! Jamie!” I turned my attention back to Mort. “If you die, I promise you I’ll fuck him like I used to before.”
“You…won’t.” He winced, his chest rising and falling rapidly. My cut pressed up to his chest was soaking through fast. “You love Miles, and you don’t want to lose him, so I know you won’t.”
The front door swung open, and relief washed over me. Then my heart sank. Not Jamie but Cass was racing down the stairs, wailing Mort’s name.
“Oh, my god, no!” He tripped down the steps, and I had to let go of the shirt on Mort’s chest to catch him before he fell. He shoved away from me and squatted down beside his husband. “Mort, please, you can’t leave me. Please. Oh my god, Rubble, there’s so much blood. There’s so much blood. Please make it stop. Make it stop!”
“Oh no!” Jamie took one look at Mort and rushed to his car. “Rubble, keep pressing on that wound. We have to slow down that bleeding.”
“Cass, you gotta get out of the way.” But he refused to move. I took him by the arms and shook him. “If you don’t let me get to him, he’s going to bleed out. I know it hurts seeing him like this, but if you want to help him, you call an ambulance. Do it now!”
I had no idea where he found the strength, but he moved to the side and dug his phone out of his shorts with shaky hands. “His blood is all over my hands,” he was sobbing to himself.
I kept the pressure on Mort’s chest just like Jamie said I should. His car door slammed, and he ran toward me, dropping a bag onto the step. “It may take ten minutes before the ambulance arrives,” Jamie said calmly as he unzipped his bag. “I need to see how bad it is, make sure he doesn’t have any air sucking around the wound.”
I removed the shirt, and Jamie blanched. “Shit.”
It was bad. Real bad.
“We need towels,” Jamie said. “Cass, how long till that ambulance gets here?”
“Th-three minutes,” he stammered. “They have a unit nearby.”
“Thank god.” He took out a small clamp and clipped it onto Mort’s index finger. “Cass, go get me some clean towels. Quick. Rubble’s cut isn’t sufficient to stop the bleeding.”
Cass ran inside the house, giving me the chance to speak freely to Jamie. “Is he going to make it?”
“Honestly, I don’t know,” he said softly. “Fuck knows what the bullets might have hit. The sooner the ambulance gets here, the better his chances are. For now, we do what we can and keep Cass occupied.”
“Miles…”
“He’s fine. We all took cover.” He removed the clamp from Mort’s finger and swore. “When you all find out who’s responsible, I need a front-row seat. They can’t get away with this.”
Cass came running back and pushed the towels at Jamie. As worried as I was about Miles’s mental state, I couldn’t leave Mort in the condition he was in.
“His pulse is weak, and his blood pressure is dropping.” Jamie glanced up at Cass. “Talk to him, Cass. Tell him to fight. To not leave you alone.”
Cass sat beside Mort and brushed his hair back from his forehead, kissing him. “You heard Jamie,” he sniffed, tears pouring down his cheeks. “You can’t leave me, not now. We just got married. I can’t lose you today, Mort. And think of Jessie. How would she cope without you? The club can’t lose you. We all need you.”
“We need you, man,” I echoed, my chest tight. Mort was the heart of the club. He could not fucking die.
Jamie replaced my soaked cut with the towels, which he used to wrap Mort’s torso, then had me apply pressure to it. The sweet sirens of the ambulance drifted to us, and I glanced up at Jamie, who looked grim, deep grooves at the sides of his mouth. He was worried about Mort and the amount of blood he’d lost.
I sighed with relief when the ambulance backed up into the yard. A man jumped out of the back and a woman from the driver’s seat. They lowered a stretcher and placed it at the foot of the steps.
“Hi,” the woman greeted us. “My name’s Gwen, and this is my partner Mike. We’re here to help. If you could step to the side, please, and let us assess the situation.”
“Multiple gunshot wounds to the thorax and abdomen,” Jamie said. “Blood pressure’s dropping, and his vitals are weak. You may need a suction unit for fluid that may be blocking his airway.”
“And you are?” the woman asked, using the chest piece of her stethoscope to listen to Mort’s chest.
“Dr. James Dehaney, Smoky Vale General.”
The woman looked surprised. “Lucky you were here. You did a great job, but he’s not out of the woods yet.”
I stepped back as Jamie worked with the EMTs to save Mort’s life. I tugged a crying Cass to my chest to comfort him. “Mort’s a fighter,” I reminded him, but that didn’t seem to have any effect on him at all.
Gwen stood. “He’s steady for now. We need to get him off the steps, on the stretcher, and to the hospital. STAT.”
Mort was a heavy fucker, and it took three of us to lift his dead weight onto the stretcher.
“I’m going with him!” Cass tore out of my arms and ran toward Mort.
“I’m sorry, but we don’t carry passengers,” the man replied.
“But he’s my husband!”
“Cass, I’ll go with him.” Jamie took his car keys and threw them at me. “You take the boys to the hospital. Call Grimm and let him know what happened.”
They pushed Mort into the back of the ambulance and closed the doors. With the sirens blaring, the ambulance sped away.
“Cass, come on.” The last thing I needed was for those assholes to come back and catch us unawares. “We need to get out of here before the police arrive. They can talk to us at the hospital, but we need to be there for Mort.”
He looked devastated, his eyes red and swollen, his skin pale, and every one of his freckles stood out. I took his hand and led him back inside the house to the other two boys.
Miles.
I’d had to push him from my mind to help Jamie with Mort, but now that situation was out of my hands, all my focus was on my boy and how he was doing. The agonized gasping breaths reached me before I saw Miles’s prone frame on the floor of the living room, Fable kneeling over him.
“I don’t know what to do,” Fable sobbed, his cheeks wet. “He’s not breathing properly.”
“He’s having an asthma attack.” I rushed over to Miles and scooped him up off the floor to place him on the sofa. His face was blue, and he was gasping for breath, his chest rapidly expanding and contracting. “Miles, baby, stay with me. Where’s your inhaler?”
“Bedroom,” he gasped. “The bedside table.”
I sprinted to the bedroom and yanked open the first drawer so hard it flew out of its space. I upended the contents on the bed. No inhaler. I checked the second drawer and found it.
