Violent Angel (Pretty Broken Things #1)

24. Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Four

L e Petit Délice stood apart from the other shops and restaurants, a building with old world charm that could’ve come right out of a storybook village in France. With dark blue awnings and gray stone walls, it attracted tourists year round, but the locals loved it just as much.

To Elliot, it was a nice place, but he didn’t care one way or another where he got his coffee. Parker used to tease him when they were teens, saying his taste buds were dead when no amount of candy sparked his interest.

A white van driving down the street offering sweets to little kids could’ve caught Parker, no problem. The heavenly scents coming from the café were probably a bit safer.

Until tonight.

The place Parker loved so much had been turned into a nightmare for him, and if nothing else, Elliot would make Saint Claude pay for that. He hadn’t caught Parker here, he’d hunted him on his mission and brought him back here to torture him.

A whole ‘nother level of fucked up.

Without Gerard to take charge and plan out this impromptu mission, Eros’ Eight—or five, when they got Parker back—was on their own. Putting Elliot in a position he’d never expected, or wanted.

As their leader.

But to save Parker, he’d do it.

The one thing he wouldn’t do without using every bit of power he’d been given?

Was put his little brother in harm’s way.

“No. You stay in the car with Awolf.” Two blocks away from the café, Elliot held his brother against the wall, caught in a staring contest like they were both little kids again and Lux was using his pouting persuasion against him. “We need to be ready to get the fuck out of here at a moment’s notice.”

Lux glanced over at Damon. “We have a driver. Make him stay in the car.”

“No.”

“Elliot, I—”

“I. Said. No.” Elliot gave Lux’s curls a little tug. “This isn’t because you’re not damn good at the job, baby bro. I know how quick you can drop bodies and one of these days? We’ll go on a mission together again so I can enjoy watching you work. I’m so fucking proud of you. Don’t you ever doubt that.”

Lux peered up at him with his big blue eyes. “Then why?”

“Because I can’t handle it right now. I’m a wreck and if anything happened to you in there? There’s no way I’d make it out. Parker might not make it out.” Elliot drew in a shaky breath. “I don’t care anymore if it makes me sound weak to admit there's some thing I just can't do. Please, just…let me give Parker his best shot at coming home.”

Pressing his hand to the center of Elliot’s chest, Lux nodded. “My big brother could never be weak. You’re so much stronger now, with all the feels. You make me feel like I can be stronger, even if I cry sometimes and need lots of hugs.”

Elliot kissed Lux’s forehead. “If you get any stronger, no one will be able to handle you.”

“No one can handle me now.”

“True.” Elliot managed a bit of a smile as he took a step back. “I was serious about the car. If you see us come running out, hit the gas and slow down only long enough for us to jump in. Then get us all back to The Inn.”

Another sharp nod, then Lux pounced on Tig, squeezing him while the second youngest of Eros’ Eight hugged him back with a slightly startled expression. “You’re small like me. Use it. Cut them off at the kneecaps if you have to.”

“Steal their kneecaps…I’ve heard that somewhere.” Tig pulled his hood over his dark red hair. “Maybe I’ll bring you one. Or a donut. Donuts would probably taste better.”

Winter chuckled, tugging Tig to his side. “Come on, my favorite little freak, and stop trying to turn Elliot’s kid bro into a cannibal.”

“Like you?” Tig perked up. “Will you tell me—”

“I’m not a cannibal, some things just happened. We’ll sit down over beers when this is over and talk all about it.” Winter glanced over at Damon, who was doing a terrible job of hiding his shock. “If anyone says it tastes like chicken, they’re lying.”

Tig’s voice trailed off as Winter brought him to the car to get suited up. “Why would it? Humans aren’t birds. I’m guessing it’s more like ham…”

Rubbing his hand over his face, Damon huffed out a laugh. “The rabbit hole I fell down brought me somewhere very dark and twisted.”

“Mmhm.” Elliot caught his man’s hand, lacing their fingers together. “Since I caught you, you have no choice—you have to stay. But I’ll do whatever I can to make it a little more Wonderland and a little less…”

“Pan’s Labyrinth?”

“Sure. I haven’t seen it, so I don’t know, but sounds about right.” Elliot glanced over at Lux as he walked with them to the car. “You loved it when you were little.”

“I still do. It’s creepy and beautiful.” Lux opened the back door for Awolf, then went to the trunk, grabbing two bulletproof jackets. He shoved one at Elliot, and the other at Damon. “Watch it with me when we get home? With Parker and Winter and Tig? We can have a ‘no one else died’ party.”

Damon brushed his fingers through Lux’s curls. “We’ll be there. I promise.”

There was no way Damon could know for sure if he could keep that promise, but Elliot loved him so damn much for making it anyway. Lux understood the reality of the situation, he’d grown up surrounded by all the harshness the world had to offer.

But it meant, if things went bad, Lux would remember there was nothing Damon wanted more than to spend that time with him. That he’d fought hard to make it happen.

Which was all any of them could ask for.

Weapons handed out, phones checked to make sure they were charged and on silent, and they were as ready as they’d ever be. Elliot led his crew to the alley behind the shops, until they reached the block of the café.

Then he met each man’s eyes in turn. “We don’t have the manpower to stick together for a direct attack, so we have to split up. Tig, you take the rear window into the employee bathroom. Get to the breakers as fast as you can and turn the power off. They can probably maneuver as good as we can in the dark, but if they don’t know how many of us there are, it might give us a slight advantage. Winter, take the back entrance. They’ll be waiting so hit them hard and fast. Draw them out if you can. Damon…”

“Side entrance.” Damon took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “You’re taking the front, because Saint Claude likely wants you alive.”

“Yes. But I won’t let them take me unless it’s in a bodybag.” Elliot cracked his neck, then palmed his favorite glock. “Let’s do this.”

Not much of a pep talk, but Gerard never gave them.

And Eros’ Eight didn’t need to be told how to do their jobs.

Seduction took some finesse, but the core of what they did could be as straightforward and blunt and brutal as they needed it to be. Death could be beautiful in all its chaotic, macabre glory, and they were all the artists of their particular craft.

But the finished product delivered the same results.

Always fatal.

Circling the café, Damon still in his sights, Elliot narrowed his focus, the clarity even sharper with his man than without. What Gerard failed to realize was Elliot hadn’t lost anything by being in love. His skills hadn’t dulled, his morals weren’t suddenly snow white. He still preferred his shades of gray.

Having something to live for, a life he was willing to fight for, long after the blood on his hands washed down the drain, motivated him more than duty alone.

Now…he had more than he'd ever hoped for.

Damon gave me that. My man, who was convinced he had nothing left to live for, gave me everything.

And there was no price tag on it, no expectations of what he'd get in return.

But I still gave him something…

I showed him he was wrong.

At the front door of the café, Elliot took a few steadying breaths. Listened to the wind traveling down the streets, stirring the dead leaves in the trees. Knees bent, he braced himself.

Then slammed his shoulder into the glass door.

A rain of bullets followed the crash, aimed for where Elliot had come through. Hitting the ground, he rolled, using the flash of weapons to pick off three men in rapid succession. More shots rang out from deeper in the building as the rest of his crew began their assault.

“They’re inside! Move move move !”

Ahead of Elliot, a man shouted, probably into the mercs' comms. Motion to the left and the right, at least a dozen men in the room alone, split his focus, but the rapid fire of a machine gun snapped his gaze to the counter, its smashed shelves covered in icing and sprinkles, smears of pastels between the puddles of blood.

The man who’d shouted gripped his throat, crimson gurgling in a fountain from his lips.

Straightening, Damon caught Elliot’s eye, shouldered his machine gun, and winked at him. “This thing cuts down numbers pretty fast. I think I’m starting to like it.”

“Good, because it's gonna be your new best friend.”

"Rome's gonna be jealous."

"I'm strangely okay with that." The lights went out and Elliot shoved to his feet, breaking into a run. “Save the big guns for our exit if shit goes bad. No friendly fire.”

One advantage to the café being their battleground was the building didn’t have many places to hide. Also the disadvantage, and a bullet clipping Elliot’s cheek before he dropped, Damon hitting the ground beside him, proved it could be used against them if they weren’t careful. Nodding toward the kitchen, Elliot rolled to his back as Damon dove past him.

Emptying his clip into the next wave of mercs, Elliot crab crawled behind a metal cabinet to reload while his man provided cover. Until he hit empty, too.

A flashlight lit up the kitchen, reflecting off metal surfaces, blinding Elliot as it was aimed right at his face. Taking a crazy chance, he stood, letting the merc get a good look at his face.

“Deliver a message to Saint Claude for me?” Elliot’s lips twisted into a feral smile. “Tell him I’ll take a rain-check on that date.”

Damon moved behind the merc, stabbing him in the back of the skull with a hunting knife. “We’ll deliver that message in person.”

“Isn’t that tacky?”

Snorting, Damon jerked the knife free. “A little, but I don’t run with the classiest crowds anymore.”

They continued to the short hall, stepping over the bodies Winter and Tig had left behind, meeting the two men in a large storage room, where the door to the basement was usually hidden behind a rack full of various coffee beans.

Winter grabbed a large bag. shrugging at Elliot’s questioning look. “It’s Parker’s favorite. I don’t think anyone will miss it.”

“No, probably not.” Taking point, Elliot threw the door open, waiting as bullets pinged off the cement walls. A nudge brought his gaze to where Tig was handing out baking trays. “Smart man.”

Gripping the top and bottom of the tray to use it as a shield, Elliot rushed down the steps. Most bullets could cut through the trays like butter, but keeping anything from ricocheting into his eyes would give him a fighting chance once he was in a position to retaliate.

The mercs would also aim for center mass if they couldn’t get a clear head shot.

Two bullets hit him in the chest like a solid punch, his vest absorbing the worst of it, but he threw himself behind a toppled table and a few stacks of crates to catch his breath while his men returned fire.

Elliot gave himself exactly three seconds before rising, zeroing in on the two mercs left standing. He shot one between the eyes, then dropped the other with a bullet to the upper thigh, while Winter shot the merc’s glock right out of his hand.

Voice raw, Tig called out from the small room on the other side of a tower of pallets. “He’s here! Elliot, hurry! He doesn’t look good.”

Rushing into the room, Elliot stumbled at the sight of Parker’s battered body, hanging from the chain around his wrist. His heart stuttered, but he forced himself to keep moving. “Get the weight off his wrist.”

Damon nodded as he lifted Parker into his arms. “Check the bodies. One of them probably has the key.”

While Winter and Tig did a quick search, Elliot pulled out his phone. They found nothing, but he had another way to get that lock open.

Lux answered on the first ring. “Do you need me to bring the car?”

“Yes. But come in, we need your lockpicking skills.” Elliot spoke fast so his brother didn’t hang up before he was done. “Bring Awolf and keep your eye out for any not-quite-dead mercs.”

“Got it!”

From the vicious snarling that filled the café a couple minutes later, his little brother and his dog had come across at least one very unfortunate merc.

I should’ve gotten Lux a puppy much sooner.

Awolf had already turned Elliot into a dog person. Maybe the furry dude needed a few friends.

Coming down the stairs on silent steps, Lux skidded into the room, patting Winter’s arm and waiting until the man lifted him so he could reach the lock holding the shackle around Parker’s wrist.

The second it opened, Elliot motioned for his men to clear the building. Sirens wailed in the distance, far enough away for them to be out of sight before the men in blue finally showed up. Lux started getting behind the wheel, but Damon cleared his throat as he placed Parker’s unconscious body in the backseat, leaning against Winter, who had Tig in his lap.

“Keep an eye on our man. If he wakes up, it’s not my face he’ll wanna see.” Damon kept the door open for Lux. “As everyone likes reminding me, I’m the driver.”

Lux climbed in without protest, but as Elliot got in on the front passenger side and Damon sat beside him, his little brother leaned forward between the seats. “You’re more than a driver. A lot more.”

“Agreed.” Winter adjusted Parker more comfortably against his side, checking his pulse and smiling. “You should demand a raise. I’ll do it for you if you get us home in less than twenty minutes.”

Tig stared down at his phone. “Dr. Fisher said he’ll meet us there.”

Gunning the engine, Damon inclined his head. “Consider it done.”

Adrenaline made everything pass in a blur, and the crash in the aftermath often left Elliot feeling a little lost. But not this time. This time, he didn’t have a successful mission where he’d been a faceless, nameless participant. He wasn’t going home alone, hoping to patch up the broken shards of his psyche while hateful voices from his past seeped through to attack him from the inside out.

Surrounded by his friends, by his family, he felt whole.

Hopeful.

Along with the man he loved, he felt…complete.

And for the first time ever, he was looking forward.

To whatever came next.