The message was clear. On my front door was an X; one line yellow, the other blue. They'd found me and I was marked for death. The LC had marked my family for death.
I paid the cabbie and stared, looking around, but there were no LCs around. Just the early morning light and the ugly X.
Shit. In three days I was twenty six and finally free. I had it all arranged; Andy would be declared mentally incompetent, I had the papers drawn up, the children would go to their maternal grandparents, the company would be in my name, and I'd be free.
Three fucking days and they found me.
I called Markus and had him find someone to replace it, hopefully before the children noticed. There was nothing else to do but slink in and wait for the tantrum that Andy would throw for staying out all night. I buttoned up my trench, hid my gun, and prepared.
It came faster than expected. I stepped into the house and I met the back of his hand. The action sent me sprawling back and I landed on my butt, half outside the house.
"Where the fuck were you last night?"
"W-what?" I asked and found my feet. No one was outside but dozens of anonymous cars getting an early start to their day. It was no use fighting; he'd remind me that all he had to do was make one phone call and I'd be in prison.
"The Marks were here. You were supposed to entertain Michael so I could get at his wife Juliet. You might be enough to get Andrew Jr into his school, but no more dressing like a slut. Were you whoring all night?"
Rage gripped me. Rage at him for my prison, rage at Patrick for making me do what flashed through my mind as guilt.
I pulled my gun. "Back off, Andy. Three more days until I'm free of you. I will not be insulted, slapped around, or whored out."
Casually he smiled and pulled a cell phone from his dark suit. "One call and you go away, for- what the hell?"
I didn't want to turn around, I suspected I knew who was behind me.
As I watched all of Patrick's height and bulk moved like lightning and Andy flew back, smacking his head into a banister. His cell phone fell out of his hand and he landed limply on the floor in a pool of blood.
My gun clattered to the ground and I rushed to his side. Patrick stood over him, fists curled, his face a mask of rage. Andy's pulse was strong; he was knocked out, and all the blood was from a mild scratch. Head wounds always bled but Andy had been drinking which made it worse.
"God damn it, Wolfe, what the fuck did you think you were doing?"
His rage turned on me, barely leashed. "He hit you. You pulled your gun. I heard him threatening you. Aileen I was trying to help."
"Daddy?" A plaintive cry came.
"Kids! Get out of here, daddy took a spill. Go get Marta, please."
"Annie Annwe?" Andy Jr asked.
"Captain Murphy," a voice said from Andy's cell. Fuck; he'd dialed. "Mr. Reilly?"
"Detective Wolfe, sir," Patrick said scooping it up.
"Marta!" I yelled and she came quickly, wiping her hands on her apron. When she saw Andy she turned ghostly but when I nodded she scooped the kids up and dragged them away.
Andy moaned and Patrick scowled down at him as he spoke. "Andy Reilly's phone dialed when he fell down the stairs. Drunk. Yes sir. Yes. An ambulance. Thank you sir. She- no, sir. Really? Yes sir. I will. I can. I will. I'll call my lawyer. Yes. Thank you."
"What have you done?" I growled.
"Aileen, you have to get out of here now. They're sending over uniforms and you'll get hauled in. You have to go. Now!" he said at my blank look.
I didn't have a car handy and dimly followed him to his. We sat down and he tore off, and for a brief moment it was like the night had never happened.
"Patrick," I said at long last when I realized he was driving to my condo. "I meant what I said. I'm not helping you, and being seen with me can only hurt you."
"Aileen, don't you think I know that? And I meant what I said, I love you. Screw the bureau, if you need to get lost I'll use my own money, my own connections, I'll do whatever it takes. And of it means never seeing you again, fine."
I winced, feeling like a monster. "Things have changed. Did you see what they did to my door?"
He nodded and pulled up to a wolf pack at a stoplight. "I told you they know who you are and they want you dead."
"On my door, on my brother's door. That doesn't mean they want me dead; it means they want my family dead, my brother's employees. My niece, my nephew! I'm not going anywhere now."
He gripped the steering wheel so tight I thought it might pop off. "We'll get you lost, I can take care of your family."
"How?"
"The kids can be made wards of the court, I just need to get a warrant from my cap-"
"No. No, this is my fight, I started it, I'll finish it."
"Do you know how crazy that sounds?" The light turned and we crawled forward into Chicago's morning rush hour.
"They won't stop. By the time you get those kids somewhere through legal channels they're as good as dead."
"So what are you going to do?"
"They want me dead, they want revenge. I left, I left with some of their money, and I've been embarrassing them at their attempts to gain ground in Chicago. What they want is blood, but they want everyone to know what they did."
"Jesus, you think racing them and getting killed will solve this?"
"Maybe. Look, Patrick I..." The words were difficult on my lips. "I need a favor."
