Kristen Ashley - At Peace

He watched her leave him and follow the caddy.

“Fuck!” he exploded, tagged his phone on the seat beside him, scrolled down to her number which he’d meant to erase about seven dozen times in the last seven years but he’d not only not done it, he’d programmed her new numbers in the three times she got them.

He was okay with her on his ass and he left her to it. She went it alone, that he was not okay with.

He hit go and she answered, “Hello?”

“Stand down, Frankie,” he growled.

“He’s got the woman. You’re on Cal, I’m on her,” she said, her voice calm.

Jesus, he forgot this about her. Francesca was a fuckin’ nut. Nothing scared her, not before life got scary. Attitude mixed with idiot fearlessness and a whole lot of not knowing what the hell she’s doing. Not a good combination. Christ.

“Stand… the fuck… down,” he repeated.

“Benny, I won’t do anything. I’ll call Sal, he’ll send –”

He cut her off. “You get the location, you call Sal, you get the fuck outta there.”

“I’ll just stay, keep an eye out,” she replied.

“You’ll get the fuck outta there,” he was again fucking repeating himself.

“I’ll hang tight and they won’t see me,” she said.

“Woman, you have no idea what you’re doin’. I know you’ve been on my ass since the turnpike.”

She was quiet then she said, “Oh well,” then she stopped speaking.

“Oh well?” Benny asked, wondering if it was possible for his head actually to explode and thinking if it was he was close.

“Ben –”

“They’re stupid enough to let you know their location, you feed it to Sal and you get the fuck outta there.”

“Ben –”

“I got things on my mind, babe, and I don’t need you bein’ one of them.”

She was quiet again then she said, “He’s not gettin’ another one of us.”

Fuck. Now he knew where her head was at. This was about Vinnie. This was about Cal. This was about Frankie being family even though that family turned their back on her.

“Frankie –”

“He’s taken enough from us.”

Benny’s voice went soft. “Francesca, honey –”

“You don’t do anything stupid. You call backup too.”

“Babe –” he said to no one. She’d disconnected.

Fucking hell.

He scrolled down to Sal’s number in his phone and he hit go.

“You think you mighta wanted to tell me this shit when you saw the woman climb into that car?” Sal asked Benny who was on his phone.

“You made this mess. Do you think I was fired up to call you in to clean it up?” Benny asked back.

Fuck, but only Benito Bianchi would speak to him that way. Even Cal had respect. Benny played the game before his brother bought it, since then he didn’t give a fuck.

The fucking Bianchis. Always a pain in his fucking ass.

“I was in Indiana, Sal, what were you gonna do?” Benny went on.

“Get fuckin’ organized,” Sal snapped into the phone then ordered, “stand down.”

“He’s been in there the length of this call and they’ve also got some girl. Blood on both of them, Sal, she didn’t look too good. I’m goin’ in,” Benny told him.

“The cops and Feds just left my house. They want this. Bad. Let me call them so they can get boys on it,” Sal demanded.

“They need to hurry. I’m goin’ in,” Benny returned.

“Benny,” Sal said to a dead phone.

He flipped it shut and had trouble catching Vinnie’s eyes. He didn’t need to look at his cousin to know that he was barely keeping his cool and his seat.

He was saved having to say anything when his phone rang and he saw on the display it was Frankie.

He flipped it open. “Amata, now’s not the time.”

“Cal’s woman is at Hart’s house,” she informed him and Sal went still.

“How do you know that?” Sal asked.

“Because I’m –”

She didn’t finish. Instead she let out a small scream and the line went dead.

Cal watched the goon toss Lindy aside, she hit the floor and went skidding, leaving a trail of blood.

He stood, silent and still, his eyes moving from Lindy to lock on both the boys who had them. They were in good shape, lean and fit. Neither as big as Cal nor nearly as tall and one was so lean he was almost slight. Could mean he was wily, could mean Cal had lucked out.

His hands were behind his back in plastic restraints that they put on too fucking tight and they’d done it because they were pissed after the gunfight and pissed he’d taken down two of their boys but they were clearly following orders so they hadn’t taken him out with a bullet to the brain at the scene. During the ride the restraints had dug in deep, rubbed raw, breaking the skin.

He had bullet grazes to his right hip and just below his left shoulder. They both had bled a lot but the bleeding had stopped and the nagging pain was easy to ignore.

This was because his mind was focused on three things. He needed to get out of this alive. He needed to get Lindy out of this alive. And he needed to find Vi and take her home to her girls.

How he was going to do all of that weaponless and with his hands tied behind his back, he had no fucking clue.

Why he was still alive, again, he had no fucking clue. The only thing he could figure was that Hart wanted to play with him.

Not good.

“On your knees,” one of them ordered, Cal stared at him and didn’t speak nor did he move. “Knees!” the man shouted, his eyes narrowing, jaw tight, lips puckering, giving it away.

He had the gun and Cal was in restraints but Cal intimidated him. He wasn’t wily. He’d survived a gunfight where Cal took down two of his comrades. He was pissed and he was scared. He knew Cal wasn’t going to make it easy and he wanted to get this done.

Cal’s eyes went to Lindy. They’d shot her in the thigh which was the reason they both were there.

No, that wasn’t the reason they were there. He’d shot two men dead, clearing a path for her to get away and he’d ordered her out the backdoor while he was providing cover.

She instead went to the safe, grabbed a gun and tried to join the fight, not about to leave Cal behind with four armed men in the office, all of them firing, two men already down and Cal having suffered two graze wounds that looked a lot worse than they really were, though she didn’t know that.

Then they got her before they got Cal and put a bullet in her thigh then lifted the gun to her temple.

Then they got Cal.

The woman was a glorified receptionist and a bookkeeper but she was also the daughter of a decorated marine who had three sons, one daughter. It was made clear that day that Lindy’s Dad didn’t sexually discriminate when it came to life lessons.

Semper fuckin’ fi.

After he assured she was going to leave this building breathing, he paid the co-pay for her on her hospital visit and he knew she’d walk again, he was going to fire her ass.

“Knees!” the man shouted again, he came at Cal and it was now or fucking never. If he got to his knees, he’d get a bullet to the brain.

He hoped to God that Lindy was conscious because someone was going to have to find a way to cut the restraints off after he somehow took them both down with his hands tied behind his back.

The man got close and Cal was fucking thrilled beyond belief that he did it stupidly, moving in front of the other one. Cal let him get close and at the last minute he dipped a shoulder and hauled ass. He took the man in the gut with his shoulder, the man let out a surprised, winded, “oof,” and went back into the other one. When they hit the second man Cal kept right on moving. Both men hit the wall, Cal pulled back then moved again, catching the one in front with a sharp knee to the balls.

He dropped his gun, made that winded noise again and this time it even hurt Cal to hear it considering why he made it. His hands went between his legs and he instantly went down to his knees.

The other one recovered and started to lift his gun but Cal was faster. Moving in, he head butted him. The man took the blow to the head twice, front from Cal and then against the wall at the back.

He let out a yowl even as he blinked but Cal moved again, whirling, he planted a foot and lifted the other leg. Connecting with his boot, Cal roundhouse kicked him away from the wall.

Going fast, Cal recovered, got close then twisted his lower body. He clipped the man with a calf around his knees and the man went down. Then Cal kicked him, boot straight to the face and watched his head and neck jerk back, as did his torso. The gun went flying but Cal stayed focused and aimed a boot to his crotch. This connected, also sharp but this time vicious, and the man groaned as he curled forward immediately, knees up, forming a man-sized ball.

Cal’s attention turned to the other one who had yet to recover but Cal didn’t hesitate. He needed them incapacitated. Cal landed another kick then another, the force of the blows sending the man rolling. Arms, face, spine, gut, ribs, any target he could get, again and again, Cal following him as he rolled.

He heard a gunshot, his body jolted and he whirled around.

Lindy was up, balancing on one foot and holding a smoking gun in two bloody hands.

“Don’t fucking move!” she shrieked, her eyes were wild and they were on the other man who was up on a forearm, the other hand still cupping his crotch but his eyes were glued to the gun that she had right in his face.