Page 74 of Cocky Jerk

Nothing I can do.

Everything implodes.

Floyd gets on the earpiece again, and on his command, we charge into the clubhouse. Someone must’ve tipped them off because we’re greeted with a spray of bullets. Antonia’s face flashes before me as I reach for my gun and I force myself to shake the image from my head.

Thinking of her will only get me killed, and I’d like to live to explain this mess to her.

“You motherfucker, I knew you were no good.” a familiar voice sneers.

Cocking my gun, I spin around and come face to face with Hound. There’s a bandage covering the bridge of his nose and he’s sporting two black eyes. If he wasn’t aiming a gun at me, I might take the time to admire my handy work.

Instead, I shout for him to drop his weapon and put his hands in the air.

“Fuck you,” he scoffs and pulls the trigger.

I barely process what’s happening. I freeze as the bullet flies and another round of gunfire goes off behind me. Hound’s bullet pierces my vest, and the force knocks me back.

“Pirelli, get down,” Richie shouts.

For some reason, Richie’s voice registers, and I duck out of the way. He fires his gun, sending a bullet straight into Hound’s chest. The gun falls from his hand as he drops to the floor and Richie rushes for me. His eyes scan the length of me, searching for a wound.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, …he got my vest,” I stammer.

Around us, gunfire continues to sound. I’ve been trained for situations like this, and yet my mind is blank. I look back at Hound, watching as he struggles to breathe. In all the years on the job, I’ve been lucky never to witness death and now, I’m surrounded by it.

“Wake the fuck up, man,” Richie calls, slapping the side of my face. I bring my eyes back to my partner. “He could’ve killed you.”

He’s right. None of these guys are thinking about Antonia. They don’t give a fuck that she’s with me, that I make her happy. They think I’m the fucking enemy and they want me dead. It’s time to get my head out of my ass and do my job.

Antonia will understand.

Floyd’s voice fills my ears, ordering me and Richie to make our way down the hallway.

“DeLuca’s on the move,” he shouts.

Richie looks at me, and I give him a quick nod.

She’ll understand.

Maybe if I keep telling myself that, it will make it easier. The debilitating pain in my chest that has nothing to do with the bullet lodged in my vest, will disappear. I won’t feel like I’m about to lose the one thing I give a damn about.

“I’m good,” I assure him, but as I say the words, I send up a silent prayer.

Please God, don’t let Tank DeLuca fire at me. I don’t want to be the man who puts a bullet in Antonia’s father. Putting him in cuffs and leaving his fate in the hands of the justice system is a forgivable offense. Taking his life is a death sentence to our relationship.

Richie leads me down the hallway and kicks in the door at the end open. He gives me a nod and I charge into the room with my gun aimed high. My eyes zero in on the man responsible for bringing the most beautiful girl into the world and it takes everything in me to find my voice and confront him.

“Police! Put the weapon down DeLuca and your hands in the air.”

He freezes, and my pulse pounds violently in my ears, blocking out Floyd’s instructions. This isn’t a showdown between a cop and a criminal. This is a man falling in love, facing off against the man who made loving her possible by giving her life.

Neither one of them wants to lose her.

But both might.

Keeping his back to me he lifts both hands in the air. Richie storms in and checks the room for anyone else.

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