'I'm gonna fight 'em all

A seven nation army couldn't hold me back

They're gonna rip it off

Taking their time right behind my back'

*BLADE'S POV*

"Police, hands up! You're under arrest."

I'd heard those words enough in my young life to know the long second your heart stopped, and the only thing moving was the hair rising on end across every part of your body, before everything restarted faster: heart, instincts, brain, and questions clashing as you decided what to do next.

But it was the first time I could witness it from this side, and I must have admitted that the prick of adrenaline was giving me a different kick under that hat, especially as the large man slowly turned around.

"What in hell– holy fuck!" Pete's heart stopped for a second time, his beard almost falling to the ground as he looked past the blue bodywork and through the open car window, giving my smirk a double, and even triple, take.

Yes, it was hard to believe, even for myself, that I was behind the wheel of a fuzz car and back in Subrose center, and out of the two, I still didn't know what was the most improbable as my gaze trailed to the shiny storefronts around and the wanted posters of my face plastered on most, except for the diner a few feet away – and that, something told me it had to do with the man still staring dumbfounded at me.

"Thought you could sneak out? Come on, hop in." I tipped the peaked hat on top of my head, nodding at him to get in as he still needed a few more seconds to react.

I'd clearly caught him first thing in the morning.

"A fucking fuzz car?! You're crazy, kid!" he panted as soon as he slammed the door shut, his hand already clasping my shoulder like to make sure he wasn't becoming senile.

"The more obvious, the better." I shrugged, throwing him a wink. "I learned with the best."

Buttering him up wasn't my specialty, but I knew how to do it, and the old fella loved it. Besides, it was true that his tricks worked. The ride from Carrion to Subrose had never gone as smoothly, cars moving aside to let me past, elderly too, and some pigs even nodded at me under the hat.

It'd been almost too easy how that fuzz car had been laying in the middle of Carrion South because in all the years I'd been there, I'd never seen one. Usually, pigs used unmarked cars to go to the whores and dealers, but I guessed they were growing confident, too confident, which was turning them careless too – a mistake I wouldn't make as I restarted the car.

Obvious was one thing, but a fuzz car parked for too long next to the diner in the busy morning, and with a large bearded man almost crying with joy in the shotgun seat, that was like wearing a sign saying 'cuff me'.

"Oh, if you think I don't see you coming from a mile around with your taffy... But you're lucky I'm too damn happy to see you!" He shook his head, finally getting a grip on himself, at least, until something else hit him. "And Dorothy?! Is she okay? Where is she?" He glanced back to the passenger seat as if he could have missed her red curls in the small compartment.

"She's fine." I chuckled at his deep frown, and before he could ask what was etched in the wrinkles there, I added, "They're safe, somewhere with Spencer."

'Home', the word was lingering in tickles like her kiss on my scarred dimple. Both had slipped out of her lips so easily... 'Take care, and come back home quickly!'

She should have really been more careful about the words she let out through this cherry mouth...

"'They'?"

Apparently, I too should have been careful about what came out of my dumbass grin because the word landed straight on Pete's lifted eyebrows, and I couldn't beat around the bush anymore. Though I still pulled over at the back of the quiet park before we got to the important matter.

If the old man's heart stopped another time, it was better to have my hands free to revive him because I needed him.

"Yes," I sighed, my own heart pounding too fast as my hands let go of the wheel, and I turned to face him. "She's pregnant."

Spencer had repeated those words more times than I could count, and even myself, I'd pronounced them many times. But they echoed differently here, in the quiet compartment, and through Pete's breathless voice.

"Pregnant?"

It hit me all over again. At the cabin, with only the birds chirping and Moonlight's bleating, everything sounded simple. We were Lucy Lucas and Ford Wels, but back in Subrose, she was Dorothy Duncan, the girl on all those wanted signs, and I was Blade Sayer. That was why Pete looked on the verge of choking with the questions.

"When? Who? How?"

"Four months. We don't know from whom, and how... Do I need to draw you a picture?" I cocked an eyebrow, putting my fingers in an O and sliding the forefinger from my other hand through it.

But from his dead serious look, he once more wasn't catching my humor, only grabbing my finger and twisting it painfully.

"Ouch! Calm down, old man!"

"You know that's not what I'm asking. How will you do?" He'd sadly found back his breath, and his question made me flinch more than the sharp tug at my finger as I swallowed my snide remark and smug grin.

Pete was one of the few people who pierced through my bullshit, and I couldn't decide if it was a good or bad thing as his unblinking eyes observed me carefully.

"I don't know..." I let out an empty sigh, my shoulders slouching with it.

It had been more than four months. I'd considered the question nights and days, and I still had no fucking clue.

"I don't know how to take care of a baby... a family, and all that..." My gaze went back down to my hands, now on my lap, those inked fingers that could spin a sharp knife easily, that had wrapped around many necks, that had drawn too much blood, those same fingers Dorothy had put over her small belly. I could still feel the warmth of her skin tingling my fingertips, the thuds of her heart, and the fragile life under, and my hands clenched into tight fists around the white fabric of her panties as I added,

"But I want to learn for the baby, for her. It doesn't matter if this baby is mine or not, and whatever happens... I wanna do the right thing for them. That's why I'm here." I landed back to the present time, in that fuzz car, in Subrose, and to Pete, whom I'd almost forgotten next to me, as I turned my head to him again, and fuck, if I'd thought he'd looked ready to cry before, it had been nothing in comparison to that moment.

His brown eyes were glistening like a proud mother watching her child taking their first steps, and even his beard was quivering as he fought the tears, shaking his head.

"And me who thought you came here because you missed me!" He put a hand over his chest, his lifted eyebrow quickly replacing the watery look in his eyes.

We both were better with sarcasm than emotional shit, though his gaze was still glimmering too much when he asked, "What do you need?"

"Your connections in Carrion." The words fell down louder than the news of the pregnancy, annihilating any humor or lightness in the confined silence, and I knew I had his full attention as he nodded. "We've found Thornton is the one behind the buzzhead."

"The bastard..." he almost growled. "I always knew it was someone of power."

The old man rarely lost his shit, though when he did, the big teddy bear turned into a full beast. I hadn't witnessed it often, but I could glimpse it wasn't far at this moment, his eyes already darkening with the memories, the same memories that were crawling under my skin, even if so far, I'd managed to keep the devil inside me tamed, and it probably had to do with the soft fabric in my whitening fists.

"Yeah, and we've got a plan to take him down." That thought was also helping to keep me calm.

Nothing better than an evil genius plan to focus all your anger and thirst for revenge. My mischievous grin was already stretching in excitement, and before Pete's eyes could bulge out in fear, I added,

"Proofs to expose him. We're not planning to kill anyone." At least if the plan worked, but that, I wouldn't tell the old man who chuckled a sigh of relief.

"Let me guess, it's Dorothy's plan?"

I nodded, the images of her green eyes sparkling with a mix of hope and power still fresh in my memories. "Yeah, it's her grandpa who'd collected all the evidence, and she wants to publish it."

"Smart, this girl is something else!"

"She is." She was a Shooting star, one of a kind, unstoppable, and fiery, and I shook my head before my heart could try to take off to her. "That's why I need your help to protect her. Taking down Thornton is one thing, but we can't risk telling the truth about Douglas's death, even if his daddy is out of the picture. So we're gonna frame someone else and–"

"And you want me to find someone from the Carrion's gang?" Pete asked before I was even finished.

I was spending so much time with Captain Obvious that I'd forgotten that Pete was quick on the draw, especially for illegal matters.

"Yes, someone no taller than 5'2, and with no alibi for that night."

"Consider it done," he replied with no hesitation, the hint of a smirk tugging at his lips that not even his beard could hide. "I have some old 'friends' there who owe me..."

That, in the gangster language, meant that he would get the info, and it pulled a breath of relief out of my tight chest, the air seeming to reach my lungs for the first time since I'd last glimpsed the red Cadillac in my rearview mirror.

I'd never doubted Pete would help us. I trusted him, and he was always there when I needed, but that also implied that he wouldn't have hesitated to throw me a few home truths if he'd thought the plan wouldn't work.

Even if usually, I didn't need anyone's approval for my plans – I'd made it in this field for a reason, and I was the best – here, it wasn't only about me. There was so much more at stake, and Pete had way more experience than I did, like he always liked to remind me. So if he agreed, I could be sure our plan wasn't completely crazy, just the right kind of crazy.

"For when do you need it?"

"The soonest possible." Even with a weight off my chest, my voice still sounded too breathless, and I wouldn't breathe fully until I had that name, and it replaced Dorothy's on all those wanted signs. "I'll stay around until I have the info 'cause it's a long ride ho– to our hideout."

Fuck, I was slowly but surely losing my outlaw credibility. Though luckily, for once, Pete didn't notice, his frown already set down hard on something else.

"And how do I deliver you the name? You can't come back around here. It's too risky."

"I was thinking about the wood behind the shooting range. You know the tall pine tree I–"

"No, the whole East side is on close watch." He shook his head, the creases between his eyebrows growing deeper.

"What? Even the woods?" I'd expected the East side to be teeming with pigs. That was why I'd come here, but even the woods?! They were spreading for miles.

"Yeah, they're still taking rounds around the whole area. Kenneth Thornton isn't dropping his guard... Did you see the wanted signs everywhere?"

It would have been hard not to. Even here, in the shadows of the park, I could glimpse Dorothy's curls plastered on the playground slide several meters away, and the sour taste of irony didn't pass unnoticed in the back of my throat. It was becoming hard to swallow when Pete continued,

"And they're on our asses all the time. It's serious shit."

I'd prepared for that. A whole night of driving alone had left me enough time to consider what was waiting for me, but the solemn look on the old fella's face told me it was much more than I'd imagined, much more than what I could glimpse with all the signs around. What I'd done so far was nothing with what was coming.

"I can't risk leading them to you or the info. We need something to deliver it out of town and that doesn't arise suspicions... some sort of mule..." He rubbed his beard, sign that he was in deep contemplation, and before I could suggest any of the hideouts I'd thought of during the long ride, a large smile broke through his face. "I know!"

Yes, I knew that grin too, and I wasn't really surprised when he announced,

"Nellie does some deliveries of her pastries out of town on Saturdays. We could pass it on that way. I'm sure she'll accept if it's for Dorothy."

"Yeah, and if you ask her nicely..." I lifted an eyebrow at his lovey-dovey smile, not needing to say more for him to catch the hint. "I see things are going great between you two!"

Between his grin that had grown wider and the fact that he knew her schedule so well, it was quite obvious – oh, and also, the little detail that I'd caught him on the way out of the diner in the early morning, instead of in like I'd expected. It seemed he wasn't only going for the shakes now, and a lot had happened in those four months.

"Yes, they are." Here were the old man's gleaming eyes again! "I didn't even think it was still possible... and it's thanks to Dorothy!"

Yeah, it was her who had set them up without even trying, and the changes hadn't happened in just four months. They'd started the moment she'd crashed into our lives like the hot mess she was, making magic on her way, and granting our deepest wishes. That was what a Shooting star did, didn't she?

"And Meteorite? How's he doing?"

Speaking of the lives she'd changed, I knew she would want to have news about the little raccoon.

"Oh, he's growing up fast! You should see him, now reaching the top of his wooden house!" Pete moved his hands in an attempt to show me the raccoon's size, the gesture clearly exaggerating the reality. "He's doing fine, but he misses you a lot. He'll be happy to hear from you 'cause he was so worried."

"Meteorite?" I chuckled, looking dubiously at Pete.

The baby raccoon might have been missing using me as a pillow every morning, and having someone to annoy, but even if the little fucker was smart, the worry was in Pete's eyes, his shadowed frown more marked than the raccoon's fur mask.

"I miss him too, but tell him he doesn't have to worry. We have an evil genius plan, and we'll be back soon." It would reassure the raccoon... "Now, do I drop you at Nellie's again?"

Moving speeches were great, but I was still on the run, and the park would soon fill up with too many eyes.

"Yes, and I'll write you down the address for Saturday morning. I should have the info by then and put it in a pastry box you can recognize easily in the delivery truck."

"Put it under the name Lucy Lucas." I smirked, restarting the car as Pete rummaged through the glove box for a piece of paper. "And if you can get more info on the buzzhead, I'll take anything."

"Well, you already know Rye was trying to get a deal for the Crossbones..." He cleared his throat, the shuffling noises stopping, meaning he'd found something to scribble or... "And the word's going around that it's him who snitched to the pigs."

Oh right, I'd forgotten about this 'detail' in all of that.

"I know it's him. I saw him shaking hands with Kenneth by the station. That's how I've been able to get to Dorothy before she ran away." I shrugged, my gaze staying unblinking from the road, though I could still feel his eyes widening, and it wasn't because he was shocked by the revelation about Rye.

He was searching for a sign of explosion all over my face, as I was too calm, and I was even surprising myself when I simply spat,

"Did that bastard get what he wanted? Is he the new 'boss'?" My due role.

But strangely, I hadn't thought much about it in those last months. I'd worked my ass off for more than two years for this, yet when I'd seen Rye and Kenneth together, my only concern had been Dorothy. She still was, Dorothy and the baby, and the bitterness in my throat was only because the gang, like the construction job I'd now lost, could have been useful money. Maybe I was maturing.

"No, Otto stayed in charge." Aw, what a bummer for Rye. It looked like his daddy would never give him the gang. "You know him, he wasn't really happy to hear his son could be teaming with the pigs and failed the Cross' code. Rye's already lucky he's his kid, but I'm not sure it'll be enough when he knows it's the truth–"

"Don't tell him." I turned to Pete seriously because he was right.

When Otto would know, he wouldn't stay loose, and so far, the only one who could tell him was Pete. Even if he had nothing to do with the gang anymore, he would obviously let his old friend know. Once a Crossbones, always a Crossbones. And I couldn't let that happen.

"I want to take care of him myself, once I'm done with the Thorntons." My hands tightened around the steering wheel, although the car was already stopped by the diner again, and my smile slowly stretched.

Yes, I was maturing. My sour anger was maturing into a lethal poison, and Rye had no idea what was coming to him. His daddy's wrath would be way too sweet in comparison with what I would do...

"As long as you don't get us another dead body!" Pete chuckled, but his gaze was fully serious, and I only kept my wicked grin as I couldn't promise him anything.

I was the evil genie. I would never be the good guy in the story, and he knew it as his eyes flickered to the paper in his hand, and he resigned himself to give it to me with a sigh.

"Say hello to Dorothy for me."

I didn't reply anything either, as nothing was sure yet. But the images of her smile when I would tell her about Pete, Nellie, and Meteorite appeared closer and closer... in just a few days, if everything went right.

"Pete," I called before he could open the door, before I could think, and it was probably the images of Dorothy's lips, or just the fact I was spending so much time with her and she was rubbing off on me, that made the words slip out so easily. "Thank you."

For the umpteenth time today, I made the old man's heart stop, his eyes bulging again as if they were spring mounted, even though he quickly recovered, nodding and walking out of the car like nothing had ever happened.

Always make it look like nothing, even when it's near impossible. It was another basic gangster trick, and the old fella had clearly kept his habits because what I'd just asked him was near impossible: going into a rival territory to get info on gang members and find out their exact whereabouts on a night months before. It was impossible. But if someone could do it, it was him.

The old gangster had a lot of tricks up his sleeve, more than I'd expected when I unfolded the piece of paper he'd given me, and I realized he'd got back at me.

There was the address and even the time of the delivery, yes, but also something else that squeezed my ribcage into a tight hold until my own heart stopped for a few beats.

'Keep your eyes and heart open. Don't make the same mistakes I did.

I'm proud of you.

You're gonna be an awesome dad, kid.'

Aww, whose heart has stopped too? 🥺 I think we'd all missed Pete, right? 

Do you think the old gangster will succeed in the mission?

Also, tell me what you think about Blade's POV? Did you expect this? 😏 He's always so devilish and fun, so it isn't surprising, except that now, he's also getting emotional and adorable. All because of his Shooting star and the little badass. 😉✨

I hope you liked this chapter as much as I loved writing it, and if so, don't forget to vote ⭐ and comment!

I love you, my little Shooting stars! And remember, 'the more obvious, the better'... 😂😏😈😘🌠