Fix You: Bash and Olivia, Book 2 of 3 (McDaniels Brothers) (6 page)

"Look," a low, menacing voice called from the direction of the foyer. "I don't know who you are in there, sweetie, but that's okay. I don't need to. Give Matty McDaniels a message for me."

The voice was getting closer and I barely managed to hold back my scream. Okay, so not Andy, but whoever had broken in knew I was there, and probably knew I was alone. I pursed my lips to keep my teeth from chattering.

"Tell him that, while Mr. Flynn appreciates his position, we're not in the charity business. We let him borrow twenty for thirty. Once he agreed to those terms, we expected to get back thirty, no fuss, no muss."

The sound of wood splintering filled the room and my stomach flipped. If I went out there, he might use whatever he was using to vandalize the gym on my kneecaps. But if I didn't, he could destroy the only thing Bash and his brothers had. Bash had taught me some self-defense basics, but there was no way I could take this guy on without getting myself killed.

I squeezed my eyes closed and tried to will him away. If Bash came back before he left, who knew what he would do to him? It was that thought that made me stand up on shaking legs.

"I-I'll tell him. Please, I'll tell him whatever you want. You've made your point. Just go now."

Maybe if I'd realized that there actually two men there, I'd have thought twice about showing myself. Then again, if they had planned on hurting me, they wouldn't have let a pile of mats stop them. At least, that was my hope.

"Good decision, little lady." The smaller of them was apparently the mouthpiece. His face was lean and hard, but his eyes had a down-turned appearance that made him look like a droopy dog. A little old. A little sad. "Sorry you had to get caught up in all this. Pretty girl like you." He offered a chillingly calculated smile, and set down the bat he'd been holding, freeing his hand to hitch up his pants.

Droopy dog was gone now, and I realized it was probably part of what made him a good choice for the job. He could go from scary to sympathetic and back again on a dime, depending on whether his assignment was cooperative or not. I'd apparently said what he wanted to hear, and he motioned to the goon standing with him.

"This young lady is going to give Matty our message, Pete. You feel like she's a good messenger or what?"

Pete was a hulking six and a half footer who was dull in the eyes, like maybe his parents had been siblings. This seemed to be a familiar game to him, because he answered right away, like he was reading from a script. "Guess we'll see, boss. If not, we can always ask her again, only we won't be so polite next time."

I worked up a tight smile, trying to keep the tremor from my voice. "Look, fellas, I'm going to make sure this gets taken care of, all right? I do the books here at the gym, and I think we can liquidate some things lickety-split and get this taken care of in a jiffy."

Lickety-split? In a jiffy? I'd apparently digressed to not only being a big fat liar, but also following their lead and talking like I was part of a fifties gangster movie. Whatever. If pretending I was a character in a film got me through this, kneecaps intact, I was all about it.

"I’ll take your word for it, doll.” Shorty turned to go and my knees almost buckled, but I caught myself as he paused mid-step and looked back. "Should we leave a business card, or you think he'll know it was us?"

His self-satisfied smile let me know that was his version of a funny haha, and I played my part and smiled back.

"Pretty sure no card is needed." My smile was starting to waver as I estimated how long Bash had been gone. I ran through the grid of streets in my head, trying to place exactly how far Sake Hana was from the gym, but before I was done, so were Shorty and Pete.

"You try and enjoy the rest of your night, sweetie."

Shorty walked out like he had nowhere special to be, and Pete the Giant trudged behind him, crunching his way directly over the broken glass that littered the floor.

When Bash walked in shouting my name ten minutes later, I’d already graduated from rocking in the corner to sweeping up the glass. Apparently, all the strife of late was toughening me up, because I hadn’t even cried. Yet.

“Liv? Jesus, are you okay?” He dropped the bag of food on the floor and barreled toward me, cheeks going chalk white as he took my face in his warm hands. “What the fuck happened?”

I recited the events like I was reading a research paper on the topography of Pakistan. It was so strange, because I felt nothing. Like it had all been a bad dream, or had happened to someone else.

“Come sit,” Bash demanded, pulling me over to the desk chair, sitting himself, and then pulling me into his lap. “I think you’re in shock, Liv. I think we should go to the hospital and get you checked out.”

“No,” I whispered, burying my face in his neck, breathing in his scent. I tensed my muscles, trying to quell the tremors, but then realized it was Bash who was shaking. I pulled back and pressed a hand to his cheek. “No hospitals. No doctors. I’m fine, just a little dazed.”

In fact, I was already feeling a little more in touch as his body heat warmed me and his obvious distress made me drill down and dig deep. He’d just found out his brother was in serious trouble and he needed me to be strong right now.

“We can’t be getting a whole bunch of people involved, Bash.”

Which was exactly why, once Shorty and Pete the Goon had left, I hadn’t call the cops. This wasn’t a police matter. Matty had clearly gotten himself hooked up with the wrong people. The kind of people who rolled into gyms in the early evening with a bat and had no fear that anyone would try to stop them.

“He did this because of me,” Bash muttered, rubbing his temples with his thumb and forefinger. “This is about the money he got to bail me out and to get a new lawyer. I’ve got to call him. He’s got to come home so we can figure out what to do.”

I looped my arms around his neck and squeezed. “You do that while I clean up here, okay? And don’t worry, we’ll figure this out. I still have my car. I don’t know how much I can get for it but—”

His eyes went flat and he clenched his jaw. “Enough is enough, Liv. I’m not letting anyone else get hurt trying to clean up my mess. Jesus, if something had happened to you, I don’t—”

I cut him short, pressing a hard kiss to his lips. “It didn’t. I’m fine.”

“Right, and I’m going to keep it that way.” He was so solemn, it was more like a vow than a statement, and my heart gave a little stutter. “After I call Matty, I’m taking you home. I don’t think they’ll be back tonight, but I’m not willing to risk it. My brothers and I will deal with this from here on out. And for Christ’s sake, do not sell your car. From what I understood, Matty just borrowed the money the other day. Seems awful quick to come due so fast. This could all be a huge misunderstanding that can be worked out with a simple conversation.”

I nodded, but only because I didn’t want to upset him more by arguing. Clearly this was much more than a misunderstanding, but until he talked to Matty and got to the bottom of it, I knew there was no point in discussing it further.

“Will you come and stay at my place, at least?”

“I can’t. I have to get to the hardware store on the way out and pick up some boards, get the windows covered so no one can get in at night. I’ll be all right, though. Once I call Matty, it’ll only take him a few hours to make the drive back, so I won’t be alone.”

I didn’t like it, but his jaw was set and I knew it was a losing battle. It helped some that I agreed with him. These guys just wanted to get paid. They’d gotten their point across, and the odds of them coming back tonight were nil.

I stood, unable to sit still anymore. “I’m going to keep cleaning up while you talk to your brother.”

“I’m sorry, Liv.” He squeezed my hip and blew out a sigh. “I’m so sorry you had to get caught up in this.”

I was too, but not for the same reasons. He’d finally seemed to accept that I wanted to be with him, and consider the idea of our finding a way to fit as a couple, and now this. It would be so easy for him to pull away again out of some skewed sense of responsibility…to shield me from the uglier part of life.

This time, though, he’d have a fight on his hands.

Chapter Six

Bash

"What the fuck did you do?"

Matty stepped out of his car and glared at me. I’d come out to catch him in the parking lot when I heard him pull up, because as pissed off as I was, I hadn't wanted him to see the gym until we talked. It was everything to him, as crappy as it was, and had been the one place we'd gone with our dad that wasn't riddled with bad memories.

After six years of being shifted around to various foster homes, sometimes together, a lot of the times not, when the gym had gone up for sale, Matty had come and begged the owner and family friend, George, to let him buy it from him. He didn't have any money, but then again, Georgie couldn't seem to
give
the shithole away and was ready to get rid of the tax liability. He and Matty had settled on a creative monthly payment plan that sometimes involved a little cash, but mostly involved car washing, chauffeur services to take his daughter to and from ballet classes, and a bunch of other shit he didn't want to do.

That was four years ago, and Georgie had signed over the deed officially last year. The gym still wasn't profitable to speak of, but some day, it could be, and we'd all had big dreams of turning into a community center for kids to train when one of us hit the big time.

If
any of us hit the big time.

I shoved thoughts of the Spada fight to the back of my mind. I had to work off the belief that it was still a go, and even if it wasn’t, there was nothing to do about it now. It was on the bottom rung of the crisis ladder that seemed to be getting taller and taller every time I turned around.

Matty came at me until we were toe-to-toe in the dimly lit parking lot.

"What’s wrong with you?" His scowl was menacing and he was posturing like he wanted to fight me, but there was a look in his eyes I hadn't seen in years…since Dad had died and Mom had checked out. Fear. He could try to play it off if he wanted, but he'd known why I'd called. "And who contacts someone, tells them to come home, it's an emergency, and then doesn't tell them what it's about?"

Someone who was so furious, they were afraid they'd say something they regretted if they didn't hang up the phone. But I didn't say that. Instead, I gave him a clipped nod. "That was a dick move. To be fair though, I said no one was dead. And don't play dumb with me, man. You know why I called. Whatever mad dogs you decided to bring into our house have come back to bite."

He rocked back on his feet, wincing. "What did they say? Did they touch you?" All the anger drained out of him and suddenly he looked way smaller than his six-plus feet and way older than his twenty-two years.

"No. But Olivia was here alone and they could've hurt her.” A fact I still wasn’t over, five hours later. “Jesus, Matty, you should've told me something so I knew. I wouldn't have brought her here."

"Don't lay that on me. You shouldn't have brought her here in the first place." He shouldered his way past me toward the front door and slowed as he finally had a clear view of the side of the building. "Fuck."

"They came in when I ran out to pick up food.” I came up behind him and continued. “They threatened you. Threatened her. And they wanted her to give you a message. They said the deal was twenty for thirty, and that's what they expect to get back. What happened?"

He waved me toward the gym door, his long, angry strides making short work of the parking lot. I followed behind, not at all comforted by his lack of response. The slim remaining odds of this being a misunderstanding were disappearing like David Blain at a magic convention.

Matty blew through the gym, barely sparing a glance at the damage, and jogged up the stairs. When we were both inside the apartment, he closed the door and locked it behind us.

He wheeled around to face me, and the look on his face wrecked me. "I messed up, Bash."

"Okay. Talk to me." I let the last of my own anger go. This was my brother. My family. One of the only people in the world who I knew had my back no matter what. And whatever he'd involved himself in had been in a misguided attempt to help me.

"I went to Mickey Flynn's boys and asked for a loan."

Mick Flynn was our neighborhood’s version of a goodfella. He wasn't big-time, but he wasn't small potatoes either. He had a reputation for running numbers and trafficking hookers, as well as loan sharking and some other businesses. I'd never heard of anyone getting killed for not paying him back, but I did know a guy we called “Two-Fingered Lou” who used to just go by “Lou” before he'd borrowed money from Mickey.

I sank to the long pleather couch and ran a hand through my hair. "Okay, right, for twenty thousand. And what? He wants it back already? You just borrowed it a few days ago, right?"

I'd assumed this whole time it had been a loan he'd just taken to bail me out and try to get me a better lawyer. Maybe he was in some kind of trouble of his own too?

Matty sat across from me on the beat-up recliner and nodded slowly. "Yeah. The day before you got sprung."

"So you owe him thirty thousand?"

"No. Ten."

Some of the tension faded and I let out a long breath. "But he still wants the vig. Even though you paid it back already?"

"I didn't pay him back. I never even took it."

"What does that mean?" I stared at him, now totally confused.

"I agreed to the terms of the loan. He got me the cash, and before I went to pick it up, Olivia had bailed you out. I told him I wanted to hold off.” He shrugged and tossed his hand up. “Not take the loan until I talked to you about your lawyer situation again. I was already realizing it was a bad idea contacting him. I just wanted out. I figured once I got you home, we could strategize, see if we came up with a better way."

"So you never even had the money? And he still wants the vig?"

Matty slumped back and buried his head in his hands. "He still wants the motherfucking vig," he confirmed.