Happily Ever Alpha: Until Nox (Kindle Worlds) (Hyde Series Book 3) Page 8

  Even dead, Rick was a pain in my ass, leaving me a long list of shithead messes.

  “You ready?” Beck asked.

  “What’re the chances Nash leaves, never to be heard from again?”

  “Slim to fuckin’ none,” Beck shot back.

  “That’s what I thought.” After scrubbing my palm down my face, I took out my cigar and matches. “Middle of the damn night, and I’ve gotta go break into Nash’s fortress of dickheadery. Remind me to retire.”

  “And miss these job perks?”

  Without removing the match from the book, I dragged the whole thing quickly across a tree. I lit my cigar and handed the book off to Beck. “Not all of us get wood over fire, pyro.”

  In the dark, with shadows and lights from the flame, his grin looked maniacal. He tossed the book into the warehouse window.

  Beck knew what he was doing. The fire would start slow then blaze hard, quickly taking down the building without spreading to damage anything else. If anyone bothered to investigate—and it was a big if—all they’d find were the remnants of a shit-ton of porn and some drugs. We’d helped ourselves to Rick’s weapon stockpile.

  “Stay ‘til it’s out and then get gone,” I ordered, heading for my bike.

  He mumbled a half-ass response, his eyes on the growing blaze.

  Crazy bastard.

  ____________________________

  Slowly and silently, I made my way through Nash’s. He was a paranoid psycho, but also greedy. His team was shit because he hired cheap, not competent.

  It showed.

  I pushed open his bedroom door and fought a gag.

  It smelled like cheap perfume, body odor, and decaying pussy.

  There was a tangled mass on the bed, ass and tits all over, making it hard to see how many bodies there were.

  Stepping carefully over needles, bottles of cheap vodka, and discarded clothes that likely carried the CDC’s database of diseases, I approached the bed.

  Four bodies, including Nash.

  All of them naked, also including Nash.

  Could’ve lived my whole life without seeing this shit.

  One of the bitches sat up and clawed at her arms. When she looked my way, she didn’t flinch. Her eyes were glazed and bleary. With my gun in her face, she smiled. She was so out of her mind, I could’ve been Santa Claus or the Grim Reaper, and her reaction would’ve been the same.

  I put my finger to my lips, and she nodded and laid back down.

  Then she was out.

  Nash wasn’t a bad looking lad and could pull better than strung-out bitches. But that was how he liked them. Pliant. Desperate and drugged up, willing to let him do whatever as long as they got their fix after.

  It was fooked-up shit.

  Moving next to the bed, I aimed one of my guns between Nash’s legs, pressing the other to his forehead. I jabbed that one hard enough to jolt him awake and leave a reminder bruise.

  “The fucking hell?” He swatted before rapidly blinking.

  And then he looked ready to shit himself.

  The smell couldn’t get much worse, but I didn’t wanna deal with that.

  “You know who I am?” I asked, cutting to the chase.

  He nodded.

  “Good, then this’ll be fast. We are not partners. I didn’t know jack shit about what Rick was doing. I don’t wanna know. It’s done, and so is he.”

  Nash didn’t blink at Rick’s death. “He’d told me—”

  “Really fookin’ don’t care. I’m just making it clear, it’s finished. Did you send Rick after a lass?”

  “She knew where some missing shipments were. Her dad—”

  “You tell Rick to keep her and turn her into one of your junky whores?”

  Nash started to shake his head, but when the barrel dug in, he froze. “He’s been working off script. Trying to poach other territories, fucking me over. I told him if it happens again, he’s done. I don’t want a fucking war. But he stabbed me in the back.”

  I believed him on that because Rick’s blade was still buried deep in my spine, but the rest?

  It smelled like bullshit.

  “I’ve never given less fooks about something in my life. I’m making this so clear, even one of your junkies could understand. We do not work together. Teo, his woman, and anyone to do with us no longer exist to you. If we so much as see you in a crowd, I’ll end you.”

  A lot of ego and no common sense made Nash bluster, “I already told you, Rick’s shit had nothing to do with me. You can’t come into my home—”

  His words cut off so suddenly, he practically choked on them when I pressed the gun right against his tiny Nash. Since it was probably riddled with disease, shooting it would be the humane thing to do. “I’ll end you painfully. I’ll enjoy it. I’ll fookin’ get off making you watch while I burn everything you love to the ground before you beg for death. Understood?”

  His jaw clenched as he grit out, “Yes.”

  Not taking my eyes or guns off him, I backed out and left him to wallow in his shit.

  But I didn’t go far.

  GUS

  “How’s your nan?”

  I closed my eyes and bit back a sigh. Hearing Killian’s voice for the first time in two days did a lot to soothe my soul. At the rumble of it, tense muscles loosened.

  When my phone had rung, I’d nearly come out of my skin. My fear and panic had turned into happiness when I’d seen it was Killian. We hadn’t spoken on the phone since I’d arrived, but we’d texted.

  “I haven’t been in yet today,” I said. “The nurses finally kicked me out last night, which I think was partially because the hospital chairs could double as torture devices, but mostly because I hadn’t showered. They promised to call if…” my voice cracked, “if anything changes.”

  Because of a brain bleed, my meema was in a medically induced coma. They weren’t sure if it’d been the stroke or the fall after that’d caused it, but she was being medicated and watched carefully.

  “I’m sorry, little one.”

  “It’s okay,” I said, even though it wasn’t. Not really. “She’s been stable. The doctors talked about waking her sooner than initially planned. I don’t really understand a lot of it, but they do, and that’s what matters, right?”

  “Aye.”

  I looked around my room at Meema’s. It was the same as it’d been when I’d left for college. Plain and simple. Generic.

  Homey…

  Just not my home.

  I’m a shit granddaughter.

  “Little one?” Killian rumbled.

  “I’m sorry, totally spaced. What’d you say?”

  “I asked how you were, but I think you just answered.”

  Giving a small laugh, I flopped back onto the bed. “I’m okay.”

  “Gus.” With the one word, his tone called me out on my bullshit.

  “I’m tired. Stressed. Worried. On edge. Previously smelly, currently fresh.”

  And feeling guilty.

  So guilty.

  “I’m sorry, lass. I wish I was there.”

  I wasn’t sure if his words were meant to be polite. Like when friends spoke about a lunch date they never intended to make. Or when someone said they were only a call away, though they’d never actually answer.

  Phony comment or not, I admitted, “Me, too.” I glanced at the alarm clock. “I’ve gotta go.”

  “Aye. Keep me in the loop.”

  “I will. Thanks for everything.”

  “Anytime.”

  I hung up and flopped back, staring unseeing at a ceiling that’d once been covered with posters of Robert Pattinson, JT, and Ryan Reynolds, plus copious amounts of indie mag cutouts of Jet and Gage from the X-ers.

  If teen me had any clue men like Killian Nox were out there, her tiny, hormone-driven mind would’ve been blown.

  Who am I kidding? My mind is still blown when it comes to Killian Nox.

  Boom.

  Exploded.

  It wasn’t lost on m
e I hadn’t asked about his job during our call or any of our previous texts. I didn’t know where he was. What he was doing. If he was still working on whatever had dragged him away.

  Whether he’d had to use his big gun.

  Truth was, I didn’t want to know. Not when my focus needed to be on my meema.

  Not ever, maybe.

  I was happy to stay in the dark.

  Monsters and all.

  ____________________________

  Do it.

  Gus, freakin’ do it.

  Channel your inner Nike logo and Shia GIF, and just do it!

  I didn’t do it, though.

  Tucked away in an alcove at the end of the hospital hallway, I leaned against a vending machine. I closed my eyes, reminding myself it was the right choice, even if it hurt.

  And it hurt so badly.

  After I’d hung up with Killian the day before, I’d gotten to the hospital just as the morning rotation of doctors had come through. They’d poked and prodded my still unconscious meema before telling me they thought it was best to keep her out for a few more days, if not more. They’d ordered scans and had been forthcoming about the possibility she hadn’t improved.

  That she might never improve.

  Meema, in her typical fashion, hadn’t been about to let anyone tell her what she could and couldn’t do.

  After her scans, a resident doctor had told me they were going to wake her.

  The morning doctors had left me heartbroken and on edge, as if at any moment the world around me would shift again. Only that time, nothing would ever be the same.

  The resident had given me something. Something that could be wondrous. Something that could be cruel.

  Hope.

  More hope than I’d had since the initial call from Miz Susan.

  As much as I wanted to blindly trust the resident, I couldn’t ignore what the earlier doctors had cautioned.

  The only people who seemed to know what they were doing were the nurses, all of whom offered comfort and reassurances.

  And little Jell-O cups.

  Once the attending had come to talk with me directly, they’d begun the process of waking her up, and we’d watched with bated breath. She’d only been out for three days, so they’d estimated it could take as little as twelve hours to wake.

  I’d known it wasn’t like TV. She wouldn’t burst up suddenly, good as new. But I hadn’t been prepared. Not really.

  I looked at the time on my phone. A whole day had passed. Short of quick bathroom trips, I’d spent all of it by her side, watching each flinch and twitch with anxious anticipation.

  The more time that passed, the louder the morning doctors’ words echoed in my head. If she did wake, she might not be the same. Not the spry southern belle who did Pilates three times a week, gardened for hours, and participated in every church and town activity she could.

  She wouldn’t be so stubbornly independent and more capable of living alone than I was.

  As I’d sat near her frail body, I’d made the decision to move back to Tennessee. She’d done so much for me—more than I could possibly repay—it was time I did more for her.

  Leaving MIT behind didn’t bother me much. I’d already emailed my advisor, and he was looking into transferring me to online courses. In my mind, I’d gone to MIT, kicked ass, and made it my bitch. Me and my pettiness had defeated Savannah Mills.

  Boston was a different story. I loved that city. In a place that size, it was easy to feel lost. Not physically, though that was easy, too. But overwhelmed. Insignificant. Lost in the crowd, unnoticed and alone.

  To me, those weren’t negatives. Even as a girl, the shot of fear had been heady, as had the adrenaline of living somewhere so busy. So alive. I’d felt as though I were part of something huge.

  I’d miss that rush.

  Highest up on the list of what I’d miss were Rosie and Marco. Not living together had been hard enough. Not even living in the same state?

  Just thinking about it had me swiping away tears.

  Right below them was Killian. It wasn’t like I’d known him long, but I felt… a lot. Friendship and humor. Warmth and support. Lust and adrenaline and danger and want.

  Need.

  Emotionally spent and wrung raw, I tried to decide who to call first. Saying goodbye to Killian would hurt, but I knew talking to Rosie would gut me. It was like deciding if I wanted to be stabbed and then tortured, or vice versa.

  Pulling a coin from my pocket, I flipped it and let fate make the decision.

  When I tried to catch it, the coin bounced off my hand, hit the floor, and rolled under the vending machine.

  Well, shit.

  That’s not a good sign.

  KILLIAN

  I’m fookin’ beat.

  Slumping against the elevator wall, the ride to my floor dragged.

  It’s a stiff drink-shower-sleep kinda night.

  I’ll take two of the three.

  I hadn’t been home since leaving Gus in my living room. I’d been listening to whispers and following Nash. Watching. Making sure the bastard wasn’t thick enough to break his word.

  Stepping off the elevator, I was almost to my door when I heard one open behind me.

  “Where is she?” Blake asked.

  I don’t have the energy for this shit.

  I barely glanced back at the himbo. “Away.”

  “Where? Did you hurt her?” I could hear his sneer when he added, “Or just scare her off?”

  Whipping around, I took a step forward. “Fook off.”

  His tone dripped with self-important, egotistical bullshit. “I’m a lawyer—”

  “Aye, my bad. Fook off, counselor.”

  The pretty boy puffed out his chest, putting on a brave face. “If you did anything to her, I’ll find out and make sure you’re put away for a long time. My guess is, it wouldn’t be the first time.”

  “You wanna know where the lass is, call her yourself.”

  “I did. She’s not answering.”

  “Yeah, well, she did catch ya givin’ that other lass a wee bit of the doggin’, aye?”

  Himbo blinked once. Twice.

  I spoke slowly. “You fooked another woman.”

  “I—”

  “Which is stupid and childish to begin with. You don’t wanna be with a lass, be a man and say so. But when you’re fookin’ lucky enough that a goddess like Gus decides to lower her standards for you, you’re off your fookin’ nut to cheat on her.”

  His eyes narrowed. “You want her.”

  It wasn’t a question, but I didn’t hesitate to confirm. “Aye.”

  Not giving a solitary fook about his opinion, I turned toward my apartment, dismissing him.

  He didn’t take the hint. “I’ll find out everything there is to know about you. Every crime, down to jaywalking and littering. Even if I can’t do anything from a legal standpoint, I’ll make sure Augusta knows about it.”

  Keeping my back to him, I unlocked my door. “People with their own skeletons shouldn’t dig through closets. I can dig, too, and I guarantee I’ll find a fook of a lot more.” Opening it, I stepped inside before leaning my head out. “And it’s Gus.”

  You fookin’ prick.

  As I closed myself in my empty apartment, I dropped my bag and pulled out my phone to see a couple missed calls and voicemails. I zeroed in on one from Gus.

  “Hey Killian,” the voicemail started.

  No one called me Killian but her. She didn’t even say it. She moaned it. She whispered it with a small smile, like it was something intimate. My dick always hardened with the need to make her moan it in my ear while I was buried so deep inside of her, the feel of us would be permanently imprinted in our souls. In our fookin’ DNA.

  “I wanted to give you a heads-up and ask a favor. I’m,” she paused to inhale, releasing the large breath in an exhausted sigh. “I’m moving back here. My meema’s all alone, and I need to be here for her. Since most of my stuff is still in boxes, I’m jus
t gonna hire movers. I’ll check with you about when’s a good time for them to come.” Her voice got soft. “Thanks for… everything.”

  For once in my life, I didn’t know what to do. As badly as I wanted to call her, I understood. I fookin’ got it. Better than most, I knew about sacrificing for family.

  But the idea of no Gus in my house. In my life?

  Sitting in the empty apartment wasn’t an option anymore. I was pissed and restless—a dangerous combination. I shot off a text before heading out.

  It’s a drink-fight-fook kinda night.

  I’ll take two of the three.

  ____________________________

  My ass hadn’t even touched the stool before Harlow, Teo’s lass, was in front of me. Her brows were raised in surprise, but she was smiling.

  “What’s up, Nox?” she greeted from behind the bar.

  Not Killian. Not rasped with a small smile.

  Not Gus.

  At my expression, Harlow’s surprise changed to concern. “What’s wrong?”

  The man who was behind the bar with her barely glanced our way before leaving a half-poured beer to come over. He eyed me in a way that made it clear he’d been doing his job long enough to recognize trouble before it started.

  And, cliché as shit, I knew I looked like trouble. Like I was willing to start it.

  And ready to finish it when I got bored.

  Always the fookin’ fun one.

  “Everything okay, darlin’?” he asked Harlow.

  Gesturing to me, she explained, “Yeah, this is Nox. Kase’s friend who… helped me.”

  “You and your well-placed shoe did the work, lass.” I smirked at the memory. If I hadn’t needed answers from Rick, I’d have let her finish what she’d started.

  She grinned before it faltered. “Is something wrong?”

  Shaking my head, I tapped the bar. “Just here for a drink.”

  Her shoulders relaxed. “What can I get you?”

  “Scotch.”

  The man set a glass in front of me before grabbing a bottle of good shit off the shelf. He poured it, going heavy. “You drink for free.”

  “That’s—” I started.

  “For life.” Turning, he went back to pouring drinks.

  “That’s the owner, Rhys,” Harlow said.