Page 28 of Patchover Fright Night
“You didn’t get into the safe,” I said unnecessarily, sliding across the bed to get to it, while Ice muttered all kinds of shit to himself.
“Cuffs first, man, come on.”
“I’ve got bolt cutters, hold yourself.” I dug my toolkit out from the small wardrobe, and rolled back to the other side of the bed. Small rooms were a burden usually, but right now it was a fucking godsend. It wasn’t like the rooms at the main clubhouse. They were literally just big enough to sleep in. I leaned down to cut the link between the handcuffs, and lost my balance, falling onto my knees beside Ice, who snorted.
“You’re not my type, man.”
“Fuck you. Maybe I’ll leave you cuffed and vulnerable.”
Oh, and cue the usual glare that fucker gave everyone. I managed to finally coordinate my hands well enough to cut the link, and Ice’s arms dropped down at his sides, as he groaned out with pain, but he didn’t try getting up. The fuck? We were in a crisis here, but by all means, take a little break.
I started to get up and he cursed.
“Gonna need some help, man. I’ve got a useless arm right now.”
I pointed to the one nearest to me, and he nodded. Great. So I had to get over the other side of him somehow, to pull him up with the other one.
“Can you roll over? Not really looking to straddle you right now. You might get excited.”
“Dickhead,” he groaned, using his one good arm to try and push himself up to roll, but the second his weight hit the other arm, he dropped back down, hissing and cursing with pain.
“Help,” he murmured, looking humiliated as fuck, but I was getting it. He had some kind of fucking injury that he wasn’t telling me about, but his left arm was completely fucking out of commission right now.
“Is it broken?”
He groaned, shaking his head. “Long term injury. Spasming like hell right now. Can you just… can you help me get my weight on the other arm?”
Between us, with me trying to help him lift his left side, while he pushed with his right arm, we finally got him up onto his knees, but he was in fucking misery, I could see it.
“I’ve got some strong shit here somewhere you can take for that,” I was about to get up, but hesitated when he lifted his good hand.
“Can’t take them, man, I’m a fucking addict, remember?”Jesus. I dragged him up to sit on the bed, and moved over to get to the safe, tapping in the ten digit code, and pressing my thumb against the reader. How I remembered the ten digits, when my head felt like it’d been caved in, I had no idea, maybe it was muscle memory or something.
I dug out the satphone, and my prized gold plated Desert Eagle, and a box of ammo.
“Someone’s already shooting the place up, man. And I was taken down by some masked commando looking fucker.”
My head lifted from the satphone, just as I was about to dial the Don.
“Huh? It wasn’t the cops?”
He rolled his eyes, jabbing a finger at the satphone in my hand.
“Call first, then I’ll talk, but why you’d think it’s the fucking cops, I don’t know.” Huh… maybe she was just on my fucking mind or something. That wasn’t something I was about to admit though.
“I can’t get Rossi to send help if the cops are here, man. They don’t know we’re connected, remember?”
“It. Wasn’t. Fucking. Cops,” he snapped out at me, so I hit the button and called the Don for help. Yeah, this’d go down really fucking well.
Ice
Iwanted to findthat cunt who just fucked my shoulder, and give him a fucking gun enema. Seriously, it’d been better for so many months, and now it was spasming again, and I needed to be on my game, and not another fucking liability. I hoped to hell that Lissa was safe with the other old ladies still, because she wasn’t capable of even recognising a fucking risk right now, and that meant that she was terrifyingly vulnerable to attack.
“Boss?”
Grease instantly fell silent, and squeezed his eyes shut.
“Luca. We have a situation here.”
