by Emilia Finn
No longer casual, he pushes off the truck. “A contract on his head? Why the fuck would I send him there to die?”
“Tell him Hayes has the girls. Tell him the twins are at the club.” I rush to the fire-engine red Charger and slam my hand against the locked door. “I need a fuckin’ car!”
He sprints forward and unlocks the driver’s side door. “Get in!”
“No, you gotta–”
“The twins?” His gray eyes lock onto mine. “Laine and Jess Lenaghan?”
“Yes! Give me the fucking keys and get out!”
The engine roars and rocks on its chassis when he turns the key. “Get in, motherfucker.”
Fuck it. I slide over the vibrating hood and swing the passenger door open. Tossing my backpack in first, I don’t even get my ass on the seat before the monster car skids along the loose gravel parking lot.
“Infernos?”
I nod and unlock my phone screen. “Infernos. Go fast.” I dial the local police station.
“Hello?” The receptionist shouts over chaos on her end. “Hello? This is Britt.”
“Britt, this is Kane Bishop. Put Turner on.”
“Bishop?” Her voice raises several octaves. She knows my name, and so do the thirty other voices that screech around her. “You need to come in. X is searching for you.”
“Put him on the phone! I need to speak with him.”
“He’s not here! He’s looking for you.”
“Is he looking for the twins?”
“What twins? Our twins?”
“Yes! Fuck. Your twins! Put Alex on the fuckin’ phone.” I grab the the ceiling as this dude rips the Charger around a corner and rockets toward the edge of town. “Hayes has them.”
“Hayes has… Hayes has who? Jess?”
“Yes! Put Alex on the fucking phone!”
“He’s not here.” Her angry voice turns to a whimper. “He’s not here. He’s out there looking for you. I didn’t know… I thought they went home with Jules. Riley was hurt, so…”
“Riley’s hurt?”
“Yes! He got shot. Luc’s here because Riley’s dying, and Alex went back out because you hurt Riley.”
“I didn’t hurt Riley! Hayes did. He took the girls to the club. You need to get your cops over there.” My breath comes shallow, like my chest is caving in on itself.
Never in my life have I felt like it might all end any minute.
I’ve worked with homicidal motherfuckers for a decade. Some, I talked down, others refused to let go of their plans. I’ve stood by and watched some shoot themselves. Others, I’ve watched step in front of a bus.
But never have I known, deep in my gut, that it would all come to an end.
Abel will hurt Jess. He’ll do it to hurt me.
“Get your cops to the club, but tell them to watch their backs. Abel won’t give a damn that they’re cops. They’re in his way.”
“Okay.” Shaking voice, it’s like I can see her sitting at the dispatch desk with tears in her eyes. “Alright. I’ll tell them.”
“Okay.” I turn my phone volume up in case it rings again, then shove it into my pocket and turn to the man beside me. The wrench remains on his lap while he handles this monster car like he’s been racing his whole life. I brace against the dash when he slams the accelerator down and we jump the train tracks. The engine roars so loudly, I feel it in my teeth. The bonnet scoop makes room for the engine that just won’t fuckin’ fit under the hood. “You know guns?”
Concentrating, lips pursed and eyes laser focused on the road ahead of us, he still manages to calmly shake his head. “Nope. Never shot one in my life.”
“Wanna learn?”
“Sure.”
I reach into my backpack and take out a Sig Saur like Eric’s. I push a single magazine in and extend my hand. “You get twenty shots. It’s double action trigger. Push it in, shoot, release the trigger, and it’s primed for the next one. Once you run out, run the fuck away. Aim for Abel or his men. Don’t hit anyone else. You shoot my girl, I’ll blow your fuckin’ brains out.”
His eyes slide over to me. “Who’s your girl?”
“Jessie’s mine. Laine’s the twin. We keep them both safe.”
He nods. “I know who Laine is. I’ve got her.”
“You can tell them apart? Because I only found out last night there were two of them, and fucked if I didn’t kiss the wrong one.”
“You kissed Laine?” His knuckles turn white against the steering wheel. “You just happened to kiss the wrong girl? How the fuck can’t you tell them apart? They’re nothing alike.”
“Get the fuck outta here. They’re identical!” We slide around a hairpin bend and send the back wheels skidding out to touch the dirt on the side of the road. “I only know Jess because of her scars.”
“What fuckin’ scars?”
“She’s got scars that no motherfucker except me is allowed to see.”
“You’re crushing on Thing 1?”
I nod. “She’s mine. We’re going there to get her back. Whatever it takes.”
Downshifting to move around another sharp corner, he watches the road with eagle eyes. “We get them both. They aren’t replaceable. We get them both, or I’ll use your gun and show you how to swallow a bullet. Then when we get home, we discuss the fact you’re kissing either of them. I don’t know who the fuck you are, but you look like a thug, you have a bag of guns, and I’m not sure I like you hanging around my girls.”
“Kane.” I lift my hand and extend it to the gap between us.
His eyes slide over to mine for a long beat, but with a single nod, he bumps it with his and whips the car around the last corner before the club. “Angelo.”
I take a ski mask from my backpack and slide it over my face. Angelo frowns as we pull into the street out front of the club. Still no cop cars. “Why do you have that?”
“Because Abel’s gonna want to kill me.”
“I don’t get a mask?”
“Definitely not. If he thinks you’re me, he’ll shoot you. He’s still gonna shoot at you, so watch your six, but he’ll spend most of his time aiming for me.” I push the car door open, swing my bag over my shoulder, and take a pistol in each hand. “Stay low. Find the girls. Don’t get shot.”
“You got it.”
“Get them out. That’s the main objective. No matter what else is happening, no matter what you see, if you get a chance to move the girls, do it.”
He nods and follows me across the street.
34
Jess
Inferno
“How long do we think it’ll take to get him here?”
Taunting, Abel slides the tip of his icy cold gun along my belly button. Trapped, I stand in front of a support beam in the center of his club with my hands tied behind the beam, and my sister mirroring me on the next one along. My heart races. I work hard to ignore the greasy haired man in front of me. I clamp my lips shut and still my shaking body, and instead of breaking down and begging to be released, I study the boxing ring Kane took a beating in just a week ago.
I can’t break.
I’ve been through worse.
I won’t break.
Laine’s hair covers her face, and tears drip off the tip of her nose as she watches her feet. Abel doesn’t know that I’m Jess. He doesn’t know that she’s Laine. He simply came across two identical women in the police station, and since Riley shielded us both and neither of us admitted who was who, Abel and McDouche took us both.
He stands in front of me now with his gun on my belly and makes assumptions based off the anger glittering in my eyes, compared to the complete lack of giving a shit in hers.
Mimicking her while I think of a better plan, I drop my eyes and let my hair cover my face.
“Not playing?” Laughing, he digs the barrel into my stomach. “No?” He moves toward Laine and repeats the process. “You, then? One of you is a club whore. The other belongs to Bishop. I swear to God, I thought you were one and the s
ame!” He throws his head back and laughs. “I thought you were ballsy as fuck. In here on weekends to whore, weekdays to be with Bishop. And I thought he was clueless.” Walking to me, he folds lower to catch my eyes. “I wouldn’t have ordered that last party if I knew you were two different bitches. Does it hurt getting ass fucked? Does it hurt your soul when you say no, but they do it anyway?”
It hurts my soul that he thinks I’m Laine.
That he did that to her.
I summon every last ounce of strength I possess, every lick of rage that fires through my body for my abused sister and meet his eyes. “I’m gonna kill you.” I take a leaf out of Jules’ playbook and whisper, rather than shout. “I’ll gut you, Hayes, then I’ll shove dirty coke up your ass until you choke on your tongue and die all alone in a shitty apartment. And when you say no, when you cry that you don’t want it anymore, I’ll do it again. And again.” I don’t take my eyes off his. “And again. And again.”
His gun digs into my stomach so hard, I swear I feel it on my spine. “That makes you Bishop’s. You wouldn’t know about the coke if you were the whore.”
I nod. “I’m Bishop’s. Bishop is mine. And you’re gonna die today.”
Scoffing, he turns away and nods to the two men standing sentry halfway across the room. One of them is the Fed that swore his alliance to Alex and Jules. He watches me closely and knows I recognize him.
And he smiles.
Abel waves a jewel covered hand. “It’s time.”
Immediately, the two men break away and come back with cans of gasoline. My bravery flees the instant they begin tipping them everywhere. The thought of dying in a fire, of being tied to this beam while flames rage around us, and to be able to do nothing while the skin melts from my bones as I watch my sister and her own pain, leaves me with tears streaming over my previously brave face.
Come back, Kane. Come back and save me one more time.
A man I’ve never seen before – I don’t recognize his eyes or the crooked grin on his face – steps up with a half empty can of gas and a silver lighter. “You’re prettier in person than on the internet.”
“Fuck you!” I kick out with my feet and knock the lighter from his hands, but he doesn’t back up.
Instead, he leans in and bites my lip until blood floods my mouth. “I wish I got to fuck you before you died. Everyone else got a go, but I was always in the warehouse.” He looks over to Laine, who wildly fights her restraints. “We’ve had bets on the blonde for months. But we had no fuckin’ clue there were two of you. The opportunities are endless.”
“Let me go.” I work my wrists behind the beam until the rope burns and blood dribbles off my fingertips. “Let us go and I’ll fuck you. We both will.”
He chuckles. Fussing with the cap on his gas can, he shakes his head and starts pouring the odorous liquid onto my jeans. “Nah. I’d rather find a different blonde, ‘cause if I let you go, my boss will shoot me in the head. Then I don’t get to fuck anybody.”
Screaming, I use the beam behind me to lift my feet, practically levitating myself off the concrete, and kick out at his chest and face. Despite landing hit after hit, he ignores me and continues pouring the gasoline until my sneakers fill. Like I’m already on fire, my skin burns. My heart hammers in my chest and my arms blaze from rope burn. Tears blind me, but when he turns to Laine, the reality becomes so much worse.
She kicks against him the way I did, but she’s been to half the self-defense classes I have.
I suck. Which means she has no chance.
Sirens wail from somewhere across town. Police. Fire. Ambulance. Three separate sounds, all easily distinguishable to a girl who personally knows most of the first responders in this town. My eyes dart around the room in search of escape, but when the dirty Fed tosses his lighter to a pool of liquid, the room bursts into light.
Flames race across the lines of gas and up onto the boxing ring. Others follow the rivers that lead straight toward me and Laine.
“Jess?!”
His voice.
Instantly, my eyes snap up and stop on Kane in a ski mask. Mask or not, I’d know him anywhere.
His eyes – there’s nothing like them anywhere else.
Angelo, one of my extra brothers stops beside him, and though it feels like a lifetime of staring, the guys break in less than a second and split up.
Angelo sprints across the flickering room in a grease stained tank and heavy boots, and in his hands, he holds a gun just like Kane’s. I didn’t know he owned a gun. I didn’t know he knew how to use one. But he wears it the way Kane does; with steely determination and complete confidence in his skills.
He runs toward Laine, and before the man with gas can react, Angelo slams the gun against the side of his head and sends him sprawling. Stopping in front of my sister, he works on her ropes like a madman.
She fights the beam. She fights the ropes.
And every time she moves and tightens what he’s undone, she delays her freedom and mine.
I look back to the front door and catch sight of Kane sprinting through flames. Then half a second later, Alex and Oz skid to a stop.
Alex’s eyes pierce mine. Rage. Worry. Panic. He kicks off and runs across the room, and behind him, Oz takes off in the direction Kane went.
“No!” I scream. I have to compete against the roaring flames, Laine’s cries, Angelo’s swears, and the shouts of men at the top of the stairs. But still, I try to get Oz’s attention. “Don’t hurt Bishop! He’s one of us. Don’t hurt him!”
Unhearing, Oz disappears behind smoke and leaves me gasping for oxygen in a room quickly running out. The flames eat up everything they touch. The air. The walls. The beams and boxing ring.
Through the flames, Kane stops and meets my eyes. Despite the ski mask, I see the apology in his eyes when his gun comes up and points directly over my shoulder.
To Alex.
The thick ropey muscles in his forearm contract, and his finger squeezes the trigger. His arm doesn’t move a single fraction as the bullet explodes from the gun.
The bullet passes within inches of my face. My hair whips back and tears slide over my cheeks when I squeeze my eyes shut.
My ropes release, and when I spin, I come eye-to-eye with a surprised Alex and the Special Agent Fuckface dropping to the concrete floor with a bullet hole in the center of his forehead.
“Oh my God.” My chest collapses. My lungs won’t expand.
It’s exactly like in my dreams, but at the same time, it’s not.
In my dreams, it’s me with the bullet hole. It’s Alex with the bullet hole. It’s my family who lay in the fire with dead eyes.
I turn and face Kane. My brother’s savior.
Alex is here to apprehend him, and if roles were reversed, he wouldn’t do the same for Kane. He wouldn’t save him. He’d consider it a job well done.
My eyes remain trapped in Kane’s for eternity. He watches me. I watch him. Flames roar between us, and yet, I don’t move until Alex grabs my arm and drags me away from the failing beam. I fight his hold. Spinning away, I skid down beside the dead agent and snatch up his gun.
Angelo throws his arm over Laine’s shoulder and propels her across the room.
With all the gasoline, all the rubber in the boxing ring, the smoke turns pitch black and blinding, forcing a torrent of tears from my eyes. I bend lower as the cloud comes closer, and when I catch sight of Laine’s feet disappearing, then Angelo’s sprinting away, I breathe easier.
My sister’s safe.
Angelo’s safe.
I slide out of Alex’s hold a second time and sprint for the stairs. “Kane?” With the gun in my hand, I bound up the metal steps with none of the fear I felt the last two times I was here. I ascend into thick smoke and bring my shirt up to cover my mouth and nose. “Bishop!” My eyes water, and the hairs on my arms sizzle and sting my flesh. “Kane?”
“Jessica?” Alex’s enraged voice follows me up the stairs. “Lenaghan! Get down here, now!”
“Kane?”
I catch sight of his eyes for half a beat, but he’s lost to me again when gunshots ring out through the club and one bullet pings off the metal bannister no more than a foot away from my hand.
I squeal and whip my hand back close to my body. Holding the gun the way he taught me, I breathe in. Out. In. Out.
Two hands. Control. Care.
It’s not a fuckin’ toy, Blondie. If I can’t trust you not to hurt yourself, you can’t use it.
I move slower up the stairs. In. Out. Breathe.
As soon as I hit the landing, I jump with a squeal when something on the main floor explodes. It’s probably nothing more than aerosol cans popping, but to my hypersensitive ears, it feels like the club is falling down around me. Metal sizzles, and the platform I stand on warps. A storm of gunshots ring out within feet of where I stand almost blinded by smoke.
Lowering to a crouch, I lean against the hot bannister and plug my ears against Kane’s shouted instructions.
Run away, Jess.
Put your gun down, Hayes.
Get to safety, Jess.
Go get her!
Alex’s shouts and stomping boots coming up the stairs add to the cacophony of deafening booms around me. My heart pounds. My eyes water. I’m dizzy and fast losing consciousness, but when Kane bolts through the smoke and sweeps me up into his arms, I cry out with relief and clutch at his chest the way I have so many times before. Running, his body jolts forward, but it’s not until his beautiful eyes turn impossibly wide do I consider what could have caused that jerking in his muscular body.
He sprints down the stairs and away from the smoke. His breath whistles through lungs that refuse to expand the way they’re supposed to. I hold onto him the way I did only a week ago – my legs around his hips, my arms around his neck – but this time, I hold a gun in my hands, and his blood seeps through his shirt into mine.
He bounds down the collapsing stairs into the raging hot inferno and literally tosses me into Alex’s arms. “No!” I spin in Alex’s arms. Chest heaving and heart pounding, I meet Kane’s eyes, and like the night he overdosed, they glitter with pain.
