out of here. Viking and the guys are on their way over to see what’s going on at Joe’s. I hope this is just some random robbery.
“We got this. Julio is in as long as he doesn’t have to work with you. He doesn’t have any concerns as far as Alvaro or Armando is concerned. He has his own guys stepping in too,” he says. I nod my head and check my phone waiting to hear about whatever is going on, but there’s nothing.
“Hey gringo, what the hell is going on with you? You on something?” Manuel asks noticing the way I’ve been acting. He couldn’t have missed it. I’m on edge as it is, and this shit is just making it worse. I sigh and run my hand through my hair.
“Some shit’s goin’ down at the bar we work with.” Manuel raises an eyebrow and glares at me.
“Take off Mason, we’ve got a deal. It’s all set. I’ll call you,” he says extending his hand to me. I take it and shake it quickly.
“I owe you one.”
“You will always owe me one gringo.” I nod and hop on my bike while tugging my helmet on my head. Revving up I speed out of the parking lot and head toward the bar. I’m about ten minutes out when my phone vibrates. Managing the bike with one hand I pull the phone out to see a text from Viking.
Viking: Not good brother. Holdin’ the cops off until you get here. I can’t keep them back much longer.
Worry inches its way into my mind. My heart rate picks up. I can’t do this shit. What if something happened to her? What if something happened to Whit and I wasn’t there to protect her?
I speed through the streets taking the corners at a crazy speed. I know it’s dangerous, but I have to get to her.
Pulling into the parking lot I can see a few of the guys standing out front smoking. When I climb off and toss my helmet Grind walks toward me.
“They shot that shit up brother. There’s blood everywhere,” Grind says.
A chill races down my spine. I shove past him and open the front door. My eyes track the carnage until I spot Viking standing behind the bar. When our eyes meet my stomach drops. He walks around the bar slowly and comes to stand in front of me. I don’t give a shit that we’re fucking up a crime scene. I don’t give a shit that the cops will be here any minute.
“She’s okay. Well, not okay, but not hurt. She’s fucked though.” Nodding my head I walk past him and around the bar. My eyes land on the body that Whit is holding in her arms.
“Fuck,” I grumble. Her head slowly comes up and her eyes seek mine out.
“He made me hide; he told me to hide,” she says softly.
“He did the right thing,” I tell her. Her head tilts to the side as she studies me.
“He died for me Mason. He hid me.” She sounds so fucking broken.
“Mason, we’ve only got maybe another five minutes until the cops move in. I was only able to hold off Nickson for so long,” Viking reminds me.
Nickson is one of the cops we have on our payroll. With this kind of mess I’m surprised he held off at all. I nod my head and kneel next to Whit. I reach my hand forward and slowly place it on Joe’s forehead before running it down his face to close his eyes. Whitley follows my actions with her eyes, but they are dead. Void of emotion. Void of life. Turning my head to look at her my chest hurts. It’s a real fucking ache that I can’t get to stop.
“Whit we need to leave before the cops get here,” I tell her softly. She doesn’t speak. She only looks back down at Joe’s body in her arms.
“He was the only one that cared enough to give me a chance.” Her words twist an invisible knife deeper into my chest. I reach over and pull Joe’s head out of her lap to place it gently on the floor.
“You were a good man. Always a great friend. You didn’t deserve this,” I whisper. A sob comes from next to me. I know this is it. I know this is her breaking point. Shoving myself up I grab Whit and hold her to my chest.