Free as a Jailbird

Chapter 46

"Well well," comes a voice from the back of the club and I hear a struggle, as if someone is being dragged along the ground. I don't have to look up over the bar to know it is Mercy and he's hurt. "Alistair Baker, in the flesh. Literally, your flesh is actually showing from that bullet hole."

Mercy groans and I imagine one of the intruders prodding his wound. I peer over the bar, trying not to make a sound, and see four men in dark clothing holding heavy weaponry aimed at Mercy. He's kneeling on his own floor in front of the biggest man of the group, who I recognize but can't place. He has long hair tied back in a ponytail – definitely a biker in a previous life. He probably works for the Mafia.

"What are you doing here, Lurker?" Mercy spits.

"Looking for you. I have a message."

"I'm not dealing anymore, and why the fuck would you come in here guns blazing and shoot me in the stomach?!"

"Because ... that's the message. You show up unannounced and the word spreads like the plague, my man. You've pissed a lot of people off in your time, and though they may've forgotten, Alonzo Garcia doesn't let anything slide under the radar."

My throat constricts and I place a hand over my mouth to stop from gasping. Talk about coincidence. These men work for Garcia.

"Oh, okay, sure, you've shot me. Game over."

"Hmm ... not quite, old friend."

There's a moment of silence. Tense silence. I hold my breath and feel around in my pocket for a knife. As soon as Lurker breathes a word about finishing Mercy, I have to stand up and fight. There are four of them and I don't even have a gun, but I'm trained. Time to stretch my legs.

I count to three before one of the men cocks a hammer. Then, it begins.

I stand up quicker than any of the men can spin around let alone raise their guns and throw my knife into the back of the guy closest to me. As they fire at the bar, I roll out from behind it and attack the first man I can reach.

Bullets pepper the bar again as I tackle a middle-aged man with muscles harder than Hazel's fake boobs. I use everything the Mafia taught me, banking on my quick punches and knowledge of areas that will momentarily stun my opponent before reaching for the weapon and finishing him. I deliver two punches to the guy's ear and then one hard hook in the jaw, taking a hit to the stomach but pushing through it. I'm able to swing my leg around and throw it into his chest before I feel the whiz of a bullet past my ear and next thing I know, someone else is tackling me.

I work well in the dark and my knife throwing would have all of these guys dead in three seconds if they weren't obviously hired for their skills.

I roll on top of the next guy. He grins up at me with a set of fugly teeth as though he likes where I'm sitting and I use that moment of weakness to kick him where it hurts. The last guy left yanks me back by the hair. I've fought dirty with Sage and Nate before in the warehouse – I know how to give back. From the floor, I rake up a handful of glass and debris and fling half of it back at him. His scream of pain tells me I hit some sort of tender spot. As the other guy gets up to help his colleague, I spin again and – with the last piece of glass I held onto from the floor – I slice it across his throat in a quick, painless motion. Blood pours from the gash and he twitches sideways to the floor.

I turn back for the last one but he is running to the door, his ponytail swinging behind him. Lurker, fleeing like a coward back to Garcia.

I look around. Mercy is lying on the floor in a half-fetal position. Three bodies lie around us.

"I'm impressed," he says from the floor. "You make a good assassin after all."

I kneel down beside Mercy. I didn't think his injury was that bad until I make him pull his hand away and see the spooling puddle of blood around his stomach. His normally composed face is now pale and gleaming with sweat. He smiles up at me.

"What great timing, eh?" he grumbles and pain flashes across his face.

"We need to get you to a hospital. There's still time."

"No."

I stare into his face, feeling every emotion from this week start to boil over the surface. After everything I've been through, do I really have to watch another friend die in front of me?

"Leave it be," he says. "I lived longer than I expected. At least I got to spend the last few months with my family. That's all I needed. I came to this ... building with a dream and now ... I'm passing it onto you."

I'm shaking all over. "Please ..."

"Don't worry about me," he smiles weakly. "It's you I'm worried about, Jess. You put too much pressure on yourself. You'll get rid of Garcia easily and life will be back to normal. You don't owe anyone more than that."

"Why ... why did they kill you? What kind of message is it sending?"

"Fear, Jess. Everyone's scared. That's why they need you to give them hope. Do us all a favor and get rid of that bastard."

I nod.

"And I have a little tip for you."

I lean closer.

"Garcia is allergic to shellfish. And a sucker for red wine."

For some reason, this makes me laugh. "Thanks Merc."

"I'mproud of you Jess." He grips my hand tighter. "Make the streets ... a betterp-place," he whispers. Then his eyes close in that cliché way they do in themovies and Mercy falls back on the floor.