Cary (Henchmen MC Next Generation 5)

Hope.

How was it Hope?

I hadn’t seen her since the night the princesses had hung out with me at the apartment.

“Or are you not feeling so tough now that you’re not the only one with a gun?” she asked, and I maybe had a little girl crush on her right then. She was so cool, calm, collected, and badass.

“You could try,” she said when Raúl’s hand slipped to the trigger. “But you will miss. And I sure as shit won’t.”

“You won’t shoot me,” Raúl said, but he didn’t sound as confident as he usually did.

“Oh, you have no idea what I am willing to do right now,” Hope said, though it was clear to me she was stalling for time. Why, I didn’t know. She had the upper hand. But maybe she just wasn’t willing to kill someone? I had no idea. “I’m pretty sick of your entire fucking gender right now and I’m three hours late on my Midol, so you could say I’m feeling pretty fucking murderous. Alas,” she said, clearly hearing something that I couldn’t as she suddenly moved to the side as Cary charged into the room with Dezi.

The latter rushed forward to grab Raúl’s wrist, twisting it savagely. Even across the room, I could hear the crunch of bones breaking as he grabbed Raúl’s gun just before Cary grabbed a hold of Raúl and shoved him into the bathroom.

Dezi slammed the door shut, but kept himself on the bedroom side of it, acting as a sentry, as if one of us might try to rush in there.

“Took you long enough,” Hope grumbled, waving her gun at Dezi. “I didn’t have a silencer,” she explained.

That was why she hadn’t just handled it herself. Not because she had any actual reservations about doing it. She just didn’t want to create a panic among the other hotel guests, and possibly get herself caught.

“You okay?” Hope asked, moving over toward me with her cool, confident, unaffected gate. Like she wasn’t hearing the slamming noises I was hearing coming from the bathroom.

“I… ah… yes. Cary—“

“Can handle himself,” Hope said, shrugging.

“How did you…”

“I’m still on suspension,” she explained, rolling her eyes. “And I’m going a little fucking stir crazy. So I decided to think of your situation as a case. I had a hunch that he maybe never left.”

“You should—“ I started.

“I did. I did tell everyone.”

But they hadn’t told me.

I knew I had every right to feel angry about that. But I also knew that Cary had been doing everything in his power to protect me. Which, in his mind, meant keeping me from getting stressed out about the possibility of Raúl still being in the country.

“But they were hearing some chatter about him in Mexico. It just didn’t sit right with me. So I have just been keeping an eye. I’ve never seen the schmuck before, but when I saw that guy charming the maids and stealing the key, I had a hunch. I only took so long because I was having trouble getting my own damn key.”

“Thank you, Hope.”

“Psh,” she said, waving a hand. “I should be thanking you. It’s the first time in weeks that I’ve felt like myself. I hate not working.”

There was a low knock, making me turn to find Dezi tapping on the bathroom door, then opening it up, handing Raúl’s gun to, I imagined, Cary.

Then there was a distinctive pew pew pew sound that must have been the silenced gun, before there was complete silence.

“You and me,” Hope said, charging across the room, grabbing Dezi, and dragging him out into the hall, where I could hear her yelling at him like they were a couple having an argument. “You’re always so fucking drunk!” she hollered. “Stumbling all around. Breaking shit. There are other people staying in this hotel, you fuckhead. You’re disturbing the peace. I’m so done with you.”

“Aw, baby,” Dezi slurred. “I love you.”

“You don’t love anyone but yourself,” Hope insisted.

“Where are you going?” Dezi asked.

“To the front desk to apologize for you fucking up the room, asshole. As usual, cleaning up your damn mess!”

God, these people were too freaking cool.

I mean, I was trying to wrap my head around what was going on. Meanwhile Hope and Dezi were creating a cover story for the noises Cary and Raúl had been making in the bathroom, so no one would call the front desk or the police.

On oddly numb legs, I moved across the room, going to the bathroom door, and tapping gently on it the same way Dezi had a moment ago.

“Cary?” I called.

“Baby, you need to go,” Cary said back, a little winded. “It’s safe. Go down to the lobby. Voss will take you back to the clubhouse.”

“No.”

“Abigail…”

I wasn’t sure I was fully prepared for whatever I was about to walk into. But I did know that I needed Cary to know that I was okay with whatever he’d needed to do.