Page 20 of His Lair
I open the lid of the pizza and find my favorite. Chicken and veggies. The thought that Evie isn’t the only one who’s attracted the attention of a madman makes me laugh.
Just how closely is Sammie watching me? I’ve never told him how I like my pizza, so how did he know?
Chapter Nine
Over the past couple of days, I’ve been seeing Lailani as much as possible. Although a lot of shit is changing around here. Louie married Charlotte, which shocked the hell out of all of us. And then Carlo had a kid dropped offwith a note. A little girl. My friend is now the father of a six-year-old. Jazzy.
A few weeks ago, none of us had a fucking care in the world. Now, Louie has a wife and Carlo is a father. I need some normalcy. Which is why I’m looking forward to tonight. Louie told me he can’t make the drop since he has a date with his new wife, so it’s just me and Carlo.
It’s why I’m walking into the Royal Flush to try to catch Lailani for five minutes, because I know I’ll be busy tonight. Then all hell breaks loose. I hear two gunshots, see people running.
What the fuck?
I run towards the sound, not away from it, skidding to a stop when I find the cause. Louie is on the ground with Charlotte in his arms. Blood everywhere.
“What the fuck happened?” I yell over the noise surrounding us.
“I need a fucking ambulance now!” he screams. “Charlotte, wake up.” He looks down at his wife. Her skin is pale and her eyes are closed.
I pull out my phone and dial 9-1-1. Before I can tell the operator what happened, paramedics are running towards us. I look over to the front desk and see Lailani with a phone raised to her ear. She’s speaking fast, but I can’t hear what she’s saying. She makes eye contact with me and then turns around.
Weird. Then again, I’m guessing this isn’t the type of thing she’s been exposed to before. I want to go over and make sure she’s okay, but I can’t leave Louie. My friend needs me. He needs all of us.
It’s been a few hours, but Charlotte is finally out of surgery. Carlo met us at the hospital with Jazzy. I bend down and pick up my new niece. “Hey, princess, you doing okay?” I ask her.
Her eyes flick behind me to the glass partition that separates us from Charlotte’s hospital bed. She hasn’t woken up yet. “I’m okay, Uncle Sammie. Is Auntie Charlotte going to be okay?”
“Yes. The doctor fixed her boo-boo right up,” I assure her.
“Good. I like having an auntie,” Jazzy says.
I set her down on one of the shitty plastic seats and pull her iPad out of her backpack. “Here, sweetie, watch one of your shows for a bit.”
As soon as she’s settled, I walk back over to where Louie and Carlo are standing. We learned that the shooter, who took a shot at Louie and ended up getting Charlotte instead, was connected to another family. On top of that, the shipment still needs to be collected. I have about two hours to make it to the drop point.
Louie mentions something about coming with me, and just as he’s making plans for added security for his wife, Emmanuel walks in. “She okay?” he asks.
“Where the fuck have you been?” Louie grunts out.
“I went to track down a contact. I heard what happened and came back,” Emmanuel explains right before the double doors open. Charlotte’s friend Evie storms in and goes in for the attack on Louie.
Emmanuel pulls her off him, calming her down a bit, and then she’s disappearing into Charlotte’s hospital room. I’d justdropped the woman off at the airport, so what the fuck is she still doing here?
Something has me glancing in Emmanuel’s direction. He must have caught her before she got on her flight. How did he know she was leaving?
“Tracking down a contact or stalking an unsuspecting woman?” I ask him.
“Shut the fuck up,” he hisses at me.
“We’ve got a shipment coming in. I need to go and get it,” Louie interjects, his glare landing on Emmanuel. “You gonna stick around?”
“I’ll go. You stay,” he offers. “Remember, that’s your wife’s best friend. You can’t kill her.” He smirks. “I’ll be back. Let’s go, Sammie.”
“You know, it’s pretty fucked up, you collecting your own product,” I tell him.
“You know what else is fucked up? The sound of your fucking voice,” Emmanuel throws back at me as we walk out.
I offer to drive, which Emmanuel quickly declines, stating that he has a car already waiting. The guy never travels anywhere alone. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him without at least ten of his soldiers in tow. Now is no different.
