I wait until she makes eye contact again before I talk. “I. Will. Come. Back.”
A little tear runs down her cheek but she nods her head in acknowledgement. I kiss the tear on her cheek and then kiss her soft, full lips.
“Try to get some sleep, baby, and I’ll be back by the time you wake up.”
I stand up and caress her chin one last time before turning to leave. I get to the garage and Saint is there waiting on me. “You sure you want to tag along?”
“How else am I gonna rile my woman up? She loves when I make her mad,” Saint says and rubs his crotch. I know Saint, and this is more than just riling his woman up. He’s still pissed about her being taken and he wants his revenge. But like most things, he covers it up with a joke.
“Let’s talk on the way,” I say and get behind the wheel of my GTO.
We drive for a while before we reach the location. Turns out Layla’s mom did her one last favor before she split town. She dropped off a note with Dean O’Leary’s location. She was a terrible mother, but at least she’s helping give Layla some peace.
Saint and I pull up and get out. We scouted the location Saint found using his computer skills. He hacked some satellites, and I don’t know how he does that shit, but he’s a fucking pro at it. We know exactly how many people are here and where they’re located so this should be pretty cut and dried.
Quietly we walk along the front porch of the abandoned run-down cabin and outside the front door stop. I nod to Saint and he nods back. We both raise our guns, prepared. I turn and kick the door wide open.
I train my gun on O’Leary in half a second. He’s sitting at an old shabby table. Saint grabs Marco, slamming his head against the wall. Blood shoots out the guy’s nose before he hits the ground. O’Leary looks startled but not surprised. Turns out ol’ Dean has had everyone he ever knew turn against him. We’ve been watching this location for weeks and he and his driver-bodyguard are the only ones who have been here in that time. It would have been a great hideout if his wife hadn’t finally turned on him.
Saint leans down and drags Marco off the floor. I would love to play with Marco myself for what he did to my girl and Jeanette, but I’m going to let Saint have this one. I’m going to get my share with O’Leary. He’s all mine. I know Saint is still burning from how he found Jeanette with half her clothes ripped off her. Saint may be all jokes, but when you piss him off he’ll take pliers to your teeth just to hear you scream. It’s something a lot of people don’t see coming with him.
“Well, I figured you and I would meet up again. Just didn’t think it would be this soon,” O’Leary says.
I hear a loud crack behind me and turn to see Marco’s neck at an odd-looking angle. Saint stands and trains his gun on Dean as I walk over and sit down at the table with him.
“This whole thing started because you killed my parents. It’s ending with me putting a bullet through your head. Before I do that though, I want some answers.”
O’Leary laughs a little and leans back in his chair. I can’t believe the motherfucker is still cocky after all this.
“How about you ask your questions and I’ll decide if they’re worth answering before I die,” he sneers.
“I’m killing you either way so think of this as your confession. I’ll be your priest for a few minutes.”
He doesn’t say anything so I continue. “Why’d you kill my parents?”
He smiles again and I lose my cool. I aim my gun and pull the trigger. He starts screaming and holding his knee, his leg awash with blood. “I’m guessing point blank range on that kneecap didn’t feel so great. You still smiling?” I ask and lean back in my seat.
After a moment he gets himself somewhat under control. “So let’s start again, okay? Why’d you kill my parents?”
“Your father had information I needed on an arms deal. Your mother was bait.”
I nod my head slowly. I assumed it had something to do with that, and while I’ll never have all the answers, it’s some kind of closure for them.
“Where are your books? I want the accounts and all your black books.” Most bosses keep them. They like having dirt on anyone and everyone they can get. I’ll put the books to good use. Send them into the FBI with a fucking bow tied around them and let them sort the shit out. I’m done with all this bullshit, and I don’t want dirty hands any longer.
“That what this is really about? The fucking money? I’ll give you the money if you want it. Just let me go.”
“I don’t need your dirty money, I got my own that I didn’t make off the blood of innocent people, but I’ll use yours for some good. Maybe save a few lives instead of destroying them like you seem to do.”
He stares at me for a minute, and I can tell he’s trying to see how far I’ll go. He should know by now the only thing that could stop me is death.
“Under the bed,” he snaps, nodding his head towards a room off to the left. Saint makes his way into the room and a moment later comes back with a pile of books and notepads, dropping them on the table.
“Why come back to get Layla after all this time?”
“I needed her signatures to release the funds. I was broke and I needed the money. I was never going to hurt her.”
“Bullshit!” I yell and shoot his other knee.
“Fuck!” he screams as more blood pours onto the floor.
“You mess with her brakes too?” I ask, already knowing the answer, but I just want confirmation so I know the whole story.