Enemy (The Aces Book 3)

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Enemy (The Aces Book 3) Page 17

by A. J. Macey


  My body was buzzing, every nerve feeling like it was electrified. Adrenaline pounded through me as I took deep breaths in an attempt to keep my vision from tunneling. Stone and Brooks followed me, Valerian bringing up the rear as we went into the room to the left of the lobby. Stepping onto the bookshelf, I crawled up the reinforced shelves before popping the fake tile of the ceiling up and out of the way.

  “All right, boys, up you go. Break a leg and make sure you hit the bad guys,” I told them, climbing down. Val went first, and as he climbed up with one of the rifles on his back Stone and Brooks stared at me. “What? We can’t dilly dally, go. If it looks like the glass in the front is going to give, I’ll be going down there with Dwight. Stay safe.”

  “I love you, Baby.” Brooks kissed me hard before heading up into the crawl space.

  “If the glass breaks, I’ll be joining you,” Stone said, cutting me off when I opened my mouth. “No, I was in the military. This is something I’ve done before. I’m not going to let you get hurt; I care about you too much for that.”

  Stone didn’t give me a chance to respond, kissing me briefly before immediately following Brooks up. Another few cracks of gunshots rang out as I ran back to where Chase and Garrett were waiting, their eyes zeroed in on the monitor. When they saw me, they followed, footsteps loud against the tile as we made our way into the crawl space in the room to the other side of the lobby.

  “Now what?” Garrett questioned, crawling toward the small hidden openings after he put in the comm.

  “We kill them,” a familiar cold voice bit out. I turned to see Ciar glaring at Garrett. “Some days I really question your intelligence.”

  “Enough,” I ground out when Garrett went to argue. “We’re about to be in the middle of a firefight, eye on the ball.”

  “What I don’t get is what they’re waiting for,” Ciar murmured.

  “What I’m wondering is where the hell are all the cops? I mean, we’re not that far outside of Carson City,” Brooks brought up.

  “No, we’re not, but it’s pretty surprising what a couple thousand will get you, not to mention fucking with the dispatch system,” Elliot explained.

  “I think I know what they’re coming for,” Dwight added hesitantly. “I have the exterior perimeter cameras pulled up on my phone, and it looks like we have a very large SUV rolling right toward us.” A lead weight formed in my stomach. The front of the building may be bulletproof, but I had no idea how well it would stand up to a vehicle.

  Dammit.

  “Fuck,” I growled, getting up and moving back to the ladder. “We can’t wait for them to make a move! Take out as many as you can.” Several shots were popped off, but my focus was on what was about to come barreling through the front of The Bank.

  How do I plan on going up against a shit ton of metal on wheels? No idea, but I’m going to wing it like I do for everything else in my life.

  Especially things I definitely should not wing.

  Like eyeliner, a heist… and going up against a fucking tank.

  I had just jumped to the floor when the crash came through the lobby. Taking the rifle from my shoulder, I held it up and curled around the corner. The space was destroyed, the silver metal of the SUV mangled and smoking. I didn’t hesitate when the driver side door opened. Firing off two shots, I hit the man in the side and neck.

  Ducking back behind the wall, I took a breath, my vision tunneling slightly until I did so. My heart raced, but the whirling emotions settled, fear and excitement both dimming until all that was left was the pulse of adrenaline and the urge to survive.

  “Where are you bastards hiding?” one of the men called out tauntingly. My lip curled upward, a snarl at the audacity that he would come into my building and act in such a way.

  Didn’t his mama teach him any manners?

  “Come out, cowards—” A gunshot cut off his next taunt. Glancing around the corner, I saw Val and Stone on the other side of the destruction.

  “How’re we looking?” I asked, my question not directed at anyone in particular as I pulled back into the room I was in.

  “Looks like two down here are dead,” Dwight stated simply.

  “One across the way is down. I believe there are two more,” Brooks outlined. My brows furrowed. Peeking into the main lobby, I saw something that made my heart seize.

  “Take cover!” I shouted as a small hatch door opened and three men climbed out of the back of the vehicle. Darting out into the lobby before they could aim, I slid behind a chunk of cement from the wall and took cover. The sounds of gunshots filled the space, my eyes scanning what I could see to find the others.

  Val and Dwight were moving in and out of the other door, popping off rounds when they had a chance. Stone was camped out behind what was left of the counter, reloading one of his guns. With how he had crouched down, he didn’t see the man crawling toward him.

  The sound of everything around me silenced, a soft static buzz blanketing the fight. I didn’t think, I just moved. I knew everything was happening at normal speed, that nothing had changed, but I felt as if I was wading through molasses, the others all moving in slow motion. All my focus was on Stone, barreling into him just as the man fired. Crashing to the ground, we avoided getting hit somehow. I knew it was only a matter of time before the man tried again, but I had left my rifle when I ran. Rolling off of Stone, I dug out my pistol, trying to aim before the man came close enough to get another shot off.

  Only I wasn’t fast enough.

  Garrett, on the other hand, was.

  Panting, the world around me resumed its regularly scheduled programming. Everyone moved at a normal pace, and sounds started once more. Only, instead of gunshots and shooting, silence reached my ears. Garrett’s emerald gaze didn’t leave mine as he lowered his gun, his heaving chest betraying his facade of calm.

  A brush of calloused fingertips grazed my back, the thin material of my shirt sticking to the sweat that coated my skin. I jumped at the touch, still riding the adrenaline, but when I looked back, it was only Stone.

  “You jumped in front of a bullet for me…” he whispered, his face scrunching up as he tilted his head. My enforcer was confused as to why I had done so, but I wasn’t ready to utter the words, to tell him that I wouldn’t let him die. Couldn’t let him die.

  Not yet.

  “We got a man down!” Val’s yell was loud in the destruction of the aftermath. I jumped up, scrambling to get to where he was leaning over a prone form.

  Oh, god, Dwight.

  I fell to my knees on his other side, my hands immediately going to press on the bleeding wound on his chest. A sob threatened to escape, but I swallowed it, pushing back the tears as I looked at one of my oldest friends.

  “Quite the exciting visit this time, Mr. Abrams,” I murmured, my voice thick, nearly choking me as he wheezed a garbled laugh.

  “Can’t say… that I’m surprised… Ms. Kitty,” he muttered through the pain. I couldn’t stop the wayward tears that started to fall, the ache in my chest growing as the blood continued to pour from his wound. “It was quite the… ride. Get it?” Small flecks of blood hit my face as his laugh turned into a harsh cough. “Motorcycles… ride.”

  “That was probably the worst fucking joke you have ever made, Silas,” I chastised softly choosing to use his birth name. He would always be Dwight Abrams, but he was Silas Rogers first. The lump in my throat grew, knowing I would cherish the terrible pun for the rest of my life. However long that was.

  “You know… you loved it… Kiera,” he breathed out his words, his eyelids starting to droop as he bled out. “Thank you… enjoy your guys… and… have a drink… for me.”

  “Old fashioned with an extra curl of orange,” I whispered. “Just like old times.”

  His lip curled up ever so slightly before his breathing slowed and his heart stopped. My fingers curled into his dress shirt, holding tight to the blood coated fabric, a silent scream leaving me as I mourned the death of Silas Rogers, Ve
gas fighter reborn into Dwight Abrams, respected banker and friend.

  My father will pay for this, I vowed.

  For every moment, minute, and breath stolen, my father will suffer.

  Brooks

  Kiera was silent, staring at Dwight with a stone cold expression. My heart ached for her, and my anger raged for her, but most importantly, my revenge was ready for her.

  “We need to figure out who sold us out,” I said, breaking the silence. The rest of the guys looked at me, appalled for bringing it up, but I glared back.

  “Dude, are you serious right now?” Elliot hissed.

  “He’s right,” Kiera murmured, her voice icy and hard. “We also need to get the rest of the shit from downstairs and set the building on fire. Chase, call the Maintenance Man. Request a special clean-up.”

  “What does that mean?” Stone asked quietly. Kiera sighed, giving Dwight one last look before standing.

  “Means him and his team will get the police documents changed, surveillance corrupted, bodies cremated before an autopsy, the works. My bastard father and these fucking assholes aren’t the only ones who can bribe the system,” she ground out, glaring at the man who had more than likely killed her friend. “Let’s get to work. We’ll discuss who our mole is and how to weed them out after we take care of this place. Can’t fucking kill that person if we’re in fucking jail.”

  No one talked as we worked, but I saw the rest of the men giving Kiera worried glances every so often. I couldn’t blame them; we had just had our first true battle against her father and the hit he had put out on us, and I was worried for Kiera. Garrett’s earlier warning filled my mind as I watched her load the cars up with precise movements that spoke of the numbness she’d blanketed herself in.

  It didn’t take long to do what we needed to, and soon enough we were on our way back to the compound where we planned to drop half the weapons, storing the other half at the house. Silence reigned as we worked, all lost within thought until we finally got the last weapon unloaded onto the racks in the corner of the basement.

  “All right,” Kiera started, her eyes looking between us. “How do we figure out who sold us out?”

  “K, do you want to shower before we talk about this?” Elliot asked quietly, his gaze dipping to the blood that covered her, the dark red stains dry on her tanned skin.

  “No. I’ll shower after we have a plan,” she bit out. “It clearly wasn’t Lorenzo who leaked the information since he’s been under lock and key. He’s had no access to the outside world except Rider and Nate, both of whom wouldn’t sell us out. No one has been watching the house either; I’ve been extra paranoid since Jace decided he could come waltzing about in our home earlier this year.”

  “That leaves the compound,” I finished her assumption for her with a sigh. I was angry, incredibly so, that once again there was someone disloyal to the club, but I held back the urge to throw something. We had been through enough, and that wouldn’t help.

  “The only people currently on the compound are patch holders, prospects, and a couple of others like Abby,” Garrett explained, looking at me. “How do we want to go about looking into people? Not like we can just interrogate all of them.”

  “It’s almost Christmas; everyone would be too miffed if we did that,” I agreed. At my words, Kiera’s face lit up in a cruel, mischievous smile. “I take it you have a plan, Baby?”

  “I think it’s time for The Aces MC to have its first annual Christmas get together.”

  Chapter 15

  December 21st

  Saturday Evening

  Kiera

  I was numb as I walked down the stairs. There was no rage, no fear… no nothing. Everything was on autopilot. Silas’s blood was washed away, but I could still feel the slick liquid on my skin, hear his gargled laughter as he died.

  No, I commanded, I will not be sucked down that hole again. I will mourn him, in time, but now isn’t it. Rubbing my face, I forced the numbness to subside as I walked into the living room. It was empty, the guys more than likely still planning down in the basement or returning the crash vehicles to the compound, but as I turned to head into the kitchen I saw a familiar tattooed neck and messy hair outside.

  What the hell is he doing? I gawked. It was a cold winter night, yet Garrett was sitting on one of the lounge chairs. I made my way to the sliding door and as I opened it, I saw the large mostly empty bottle of liquor clutched between his fingers.

  “Having a party?” I murmured, crossing my arms against the chill in the air. Garrett looked over before taking a chug of the bottle. “Seriously, what the fuck are you doing?”

  “Drinking, what the fuck does it look like?” he muttered, looking out over the heated pool as it rippled in the wind.

  “Why?”

  “Why do you care, Kiera?” He threw the scathing question out, but when he looked at me again, I realized he wasn’t angry. Garrett was hurting, his eyes glistening as his jaw clenched under my scrutiny. I stared at him until he finally broke, letting my silence push him into action. “You almost died! I watched him line up his shot, and you weren’t ready.” His explanation was quiet, rough, as he stared down at the amber liquid. “I would have had to live with how much we… how much I had fucked up and knowing you haven't forgiven me.”

  “I could have lost you too, Garrett, and you don’t see me losing control and drowning myself in the bottom of a bottle,” I snapped. He shook his head, lifting the bottle up, but I yanked it from his grasp before his lips could grace the rim.

  “Hey!” he shouted, jumping up to snatch it away as I hopped back, chugging the last few gulps.

  “I’m not going to let you waste away, Garrett.”

  “Why the fuck not?” he countered, his arms coming out wide.

  “Because I love you too much for that!” I screamed, my chest heaving when a sob tried to overtake me. I pushed the heartache back, refusing to cry anymore tonight. “Jesus fuck, Garrett—” I went to say more, but his calloused palms cupped my face and his lips pressed into mine, cutting me off. Fisting his soft T-shirt, I kissed back, both of us holding on to each other as if our lives depended on it.

  And with how shit’s been going, they might be.

  The heat seeped from his body into me, chasing the chill of the night air away. Hard planes pressed into my chest, and muscled arms wrapped around my thin waist. Garrett held me tightly, his lips and tongue moving in time with mine. The pain of the day grew as Garrett poured everything he had into that kiss. I became so absorbed, so overwhelmed by his kiss that my heart nearly cracked when he pulled back. His emerald eyes were red ringed, a wall of tears still pooling despite trying to force them away with a swipe of his arm.

  He opened his mouth to say something, stepping away as he did so, but I stopped him. Intertwining my fingers with his, I kept him with me as I started toward the house. The main floor was quiet, the rest of the guys either down in the basement planning or up in their rooms for the night. No one had wanted to be social, choosing to process what had happened in their own way.

  How I wanted to process was to forget for a little while. Not just today, but the problems and fights between Garrett and me, what had happened earlier that year to break us all apart. I could hear my brain trying to talk me out of this, to stay angry, but for now, I shut it off and focused on what my heart wanted.

  And for tonight, it wanted Garrett. Or, if I’m being honest, for forever.

  “Come on.” I tugged on his hand slightly as I made my way up the first few steps of the staircase. Garrett stayed quiet, but he squeezed my hand, following me as I led us to his room.

  Black currant and grease filled my nose as soon as I crossed the threshold, the familiar scent bringing me peace after the long, painful day. When I heard the door close behind me, I wrapped my arms around his broad shoulders, my fingers trailing over the back of his neck. The silence grew, making me grow antsy in the quiet.

  “I, uh, had a similar point in my life,” I murmured, want
ing to get him to say something, anything. The broken expression that etched in his ruggedly handsome face made my chest hurt even more. “When I first left you guys, I did drown myself in booze. But someone who loves me didn’t let me waste away, and now I want to do the same for you.”

  “Why?” His question was almost inaudible. “I promised you I would always be there for you, to be your safe haven. I wanted so much more for us, and when you needed me most, I wasn’t there. How could you forgive that?”

  “We’ve been fighting for years, Garrett, and while your mistrust hurt more than the others’, we’ve somehow always come back to each other.” Reaching around, I cupped his scruff covered cheek. Garrett pressed into my hand, angling his head to kiss my palm. “I’m not saying it doesn’t still hurt, but I’ve lost too much in this war with my father to miss chances to spend time with the people I care about.”

  Garrett’s lips thinned, his jaw tensing at my words. His hand came up, holding my hand against his face. Neither of us spoke, lost in the silence and pain we were both drowning in. At least until I popped up onto the balls of my feet and Garrett met me halfway in a passionate kiss.

  When his tongue came out, brushing against my lower lip tenderly, I felt a sliver of hope bloom in my chest. This may not be the normal possessive, asshole stepbrother I was used to, but I felt myself falling for this side of Garrett just as much as the other side.

  I loved him, and right here, standing in his room and clinging to each other, I knew he loved me too. Despite all the shit in our past, our stubbornness, irritation, and fights, it seemed nothing could truly break us. We were in for the long haul.

  Garrett started walking me to the bed, but before we could fall back to the bedding he stopped. My brows drew together when he stepped back, confused at what he was doing. Watching with curiosity, I stood by his bed as he opened his closet. He stepped in briefly before returning with a shoebox.

 

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