Redemptive (Combative, #2)(24)

She nudged me with her knee. “I’m sure. You’ve done so much already. I’ll be fine.”

I placed my hand on her forehead to check her temperature, or, at least, make it look that way. I just wanted a reason to touch her. “Okay.” I leaned down, seeing her eyes close just before my lips met her forehead. “I’ll be back soon.”

I left the house smiling, but the smile was wiped the second I got in Tiny’s car, and he handed me a piece of paper.

“When did this happen?” I asked, staring down at the missing persons report.

Bailey Anne Wright.

And her picture, the picture PJ had taken.

“Last night.”

My heart stopped. “Who filed it?”

“I’m working on it.”

Finally tearing my gaze away from the picture, I asked, “So where are we going?”

“To talk to PJ.”

*

We pulled up just outside Harwood’s Deli, where Tiny had gotten word that PJ was running his mouth about Bailey and dropping names that shouldn’t be dropped in the open. That’s when Jerry, the owner, called Tiny and asked him politely to get the man out of his store. Which was odd, because PJ and Jerry were friends, and they spent a lot of time together considering the deli was PJ’s territory.

Pulling my hood over my head, I stepped inside, surveying the almost empty store before eyeing Jerry. Luckily, he was on our payroll and understood what my presence meant. PJ got up from his stool at the counter. “Well, well, well. I wonder what it is that could possibly bring you to me?”

My jaw tightened as I looked him up and down. My gaze flicked over to the owner. “Close the shop, Jerry.”

He clapped his hands together. “Everyone out.”

There were only two people in the store, and they were more than happy to vacate. PJ went to sit back down, but I gripped his arm and sent a silent message to Jerry—one that he understood. He moved around the tiny deli and closed all the blinds, then locked the door from the inside. The entire time, I fought to keep my rage in check. Feeling my pulse spiking through my body, I waited until Jerry had made himself scarce in the back room before fisting PJ’s collar. I pushed him until his back hit the counter and my face was inches from his. Then I grabbed my gun and held it to his head. It took some time for him to register what was happening. It always did with me.

I’d perfected intimidation. And I’d mastered the act of the perfect calm…

His eyes widened, and for the first time since the night Bailey killed Pauly, I saw the fear. And I loved every second of it. Hell, I thrived on it. “You got something to say?”

He tried to push me off him, but I held my ground and pushed the barrel harder against him. “You better say it.”

“I don’t know where the f*ck the girl is or where you’re hiding her, but I sure as hell know it’s not in the f*ckin’ river with Pauly’s shoes. I know, DeLuca.” His eyes thinned to slits. “I know what you’ve done. I just need proof. But I’ll f*ckin’ die before I let a brother’s death go unpunished.”

“Then prepare to die, PJ, because you’re f*ckin’ insane. And you won’t find shit. And even if you think you have, I’ll f*ckin’ kill you before—”

Tiny’s hand landed on my shoulder, interrupting me. “Boss,” he said, attempting to pull me away.

Jerry walked back out from the storeroom. “My little girl will be here soon. I don’t want her seeing this shit.”

“No problem,” I said, letting go of PJ’s collar and helping him to stand upright. I brushed down his clothes for him. Then I reached into my pocket, pulled out some cash and dropped it on the counter. “My apologies for the inconvenience today, Jerry. I hope this little altercation doesn’t ruin any future business relations.”

“Not at all,” Jerry answered, already busy counting the cash.

“Benny’s gonna hear about this bullshit,” PJ shouted after me.

I turned swiftly, my gun whipping the side of his face. I released it, knowing if I didn’t, I’d put a f*cking bullet through him. My fist landed on his jaw first, and then his nose and everything after that was a blur.

“Enough!” Tiny shouted, pulling me off PJ. “That’s enough.”

I paused mid-movement, watching the blood spew from PJ’s nose. “You’re done,” I told him, picking my gun up off the floor.

He cursed under his breath but didn’t say anything else. Tiny led us both out of the deli and practically shoved me into his car. Once he was seated, he turned to me. “You lost it, Nate. You never lose it.”

“Maybe it’s time I start.”





16




Bailey


When Nate got back, his mood had switched. He came into my room, asked how I was feeling, and when I told him I was fine, he nodded once and left. A moment later I heard him in the kitchen, slamming the cabinets.

Slowly, I got out of bed and tiptoed down the hall, stopping in my tracks when he came into view. His palms lay flat on the counter, his arms outstretched and his shoulders tense. His roped muscles popped out from under the sleeves of his T-shirt as he let his head drop forward, his eyes focused on the bottle of whiskey in front of him. I watched, transfixed, as he stood there, unmoving.