by C. M. Owens
I force a smile as I skate to the edge.
“How are the girls? I’m trying to keep my distance for the time being,” I say to her.
She beams at me, unaware of my current situation—heartbreak and all that lovely shit.
“The girls are fantastic. Both are doing so well in school, but they do miss you. Smitty thinks we can arrange something so they can see you. I’m just glad you’re back home.”
I frown. “You knew I was gone?”
She rolls her eyes. “I’ve been married to Smitty for almost thirty years. Of course I knew you were gone, even though he never told me as much. He gave me the same story about you returning months ago, just as he gave everyone else. But I know him too well, and I could see the worry on his face. He wouldn’t be worried if he had eyes on you.”
I glance over, seeing John, one of my father’s favorite bodyguards, as he pretends not to listen in on our conversation.
“I saw Troy yesterday, and he filled me in on Lathan’s guys crouching near your brownstone,” I say on a sigh to her.
She rolls her eyes. “Lathan can’t touch us. He can’t touch you either. And we’ve moved to our Manhattan apartment since then. Good luck getting through those doors without access. Not even the elevator works to our floor without a passcode.”
She bats a dismissive hand, always the optimist.
“Oh! I meant to tell you, I got you some of those tiny condiment bottles you love so much! All sorts of different ones. Including hot sauce. I’ll go grab them and be right back.”
Considering this small rink is on the top floor of a large building, it will probably take her a while to return. So I resume skating, closing my eyes and turning the music up with my remote.
I’ve been trying to unwind for five days now. Ever since I returned.
Not even skating is freeing me.
Not screaming lyrics and shaking out the nerves either.
Nothing is working.
Giving up, I go to put my shoes on, my head down as I swap my skates for sneakers. Just as I stand and my head comes up, a scream flies out of my lips as something rough wraps around my face. My eyes open to darkness, and I struggle, when an arm comes around my throat, choking me.
I suck in air, and fabric goes into my mouth. Air barely squeezes through the threads, and I grow dizzy when the massive arm strangles me tighter, cutting off the small bit of air I was getting.
I try to scream again, wanting the men outside the doors to rush in with their guns, but a garble is all that escapes my lips.
Colorful dots sparkle in the darkness as I continue to suffocate, and my eyes grow heavy until…
CHAPTER 35
AXLE
“Where’s Sarah?” Drex asks me as we all linger by the entrance of the warehouse.
Jude is fucking antsy, like he wants to be anywhere else right now. His eyes don’t meet any of ours.
The second I open my mouth to speak, there’s suddenly a knock at the door.
Jude walks away, and I pull open the door to see…Sarah. Or AJ. Or whatever.
This double name thing just gets more confusing by the minute.
She beams at us as she stands there all dressed in leather with her blonde hair straight and hanging around her shoulders.
“When does the killing start?” she asks a little too giddily.
“Five minutes ago. You’re late,” Drex says with an arched eyebrow.
She rolls her eyes, then turns and bends. My smile etches up when she starts dragging a body inside.
“I was busy getting you a gift,” she says, dragging in a struggling Ben, who has been on the run for a while. After kidnapping Eve.
Drex’s eyes widen and then narrow as his features harden.
Ben is tied up like a fucking calf at a roping exhibition or whatever it’s called. And he’s gagged as he sweats, panicking as he continues to struggle uselessly.
“And Cecil—your little rat—is in a body bag in my trunk. One of you boys can handle that,” she says, patting Dash on the shoulder suggestively.
He groans while going outside to handle the body, and I smirk as I think back to Maya’s comment about Sarah.
Sarah’s like a cat. She gifts you dead rodents as a show of affection.
Is there any-fucking-thing that isn’t going to trigger a memory? She wasn’t in my life that damn long.
Drex’s fist slams into the side of Ben’s face, and Sarah whistles the tune to Jeopardy.
“We can reschedule this hit for tomorrow,” I tell him as he shakes out his fist, while Ben cries on the ground.
“Agreed,” Drex bites out. “I have plans for tonight.”
Jude walks back over, his steps hesitating when he sees Ben on the floor. His jaw grinds.
“Need help?” he asks Drex, intentionally avoiding looking in Sarah’s direction.
“Why the hell not? Everyone should get a turn,” Drex says, smirking when Ben sobs around the gag, tears pouring from his eyes. “Drag him below,” he adds as Dash walks in and drops the small body bag that is carrying our ex-tattooist and rat.
Jude and Dash grab Ben under the arms and legs, and the two of them carry the writhing snake toward the basement. Drex cracks his knuckles while looking back over at Sarah.
She forces a smile, jerking her gaze away from Jude’s retreating figure to eye Drex.
“What do I owe you for that?” Drex asks her.
“Simple. Bring Maya back and do what I asked you to do in the first place. It’s crucial she stays here. It means the other Families won’t just come in guns blazing and wipe all of you out.”
Trying not to strangle her, I say, “Maya is a liability. And we’re a liability to her as well. It’s not safe for her or us to be around each other. If Herrin—”
“Spare me the details of your reasoning. I’ve already heard it all,” she says with a shrug.
My eyes dart over to Drex, and he curses Eve under his breath.
“Don’t be mad at my girl. To be fair, she sort of owes me a debt as well. And she pays it by feeding me information that may keep you assholes alive.”
“We can handle ourselves,” Drex tells her with narrowed eyes.
“You can’t handle what’s coming without help,” Sarah says seriously. “Trust me. I know the depths of depravity that follow Phillip’s reign. Believe me when I say you pray for death once he sets his sights on you. And he will. Eventually. He’ll wipe out all the MCs in the area, because they’ll be in his territory once he finally settles in for good. You either work with him, or you’re against him. Unless you want to be a set of bitches for him, you will need my help. And Maya’s. And the other Families’ help as well.”
Drex runs a hand through his hair. “Deal with this and go scout the site again,” he says to me. “Take Sarah and make sure we didn’t miss anything.”
Sarah follows me out, and Drex turns toward the basement, ready to have some fun and release some pent-up frustration.
Sarah straps on a spare helmet as we walk out, and she climbs onto my bike without touching me.
“I have to hold onto you,” she says, clearly not touching me without permission.
I just nod once, and her arms slide around my waist. My entire body tenses, and I feel her tense in return.
“Should I just ride separate?” she asks me as I undo her hands from my waist, and pull my helmet off. I don’t answer.
Instead, I walk to her car that is parked against the alley wall, and she follows me, sans helmet. Wordlessly, we get into her car, and I hold my hand out. The second she hands me the keys, I crank the damn car and drive us toward the massive warehouse that is just a few towns over.
“Want to tell me what all that was about?” Sarah asks flippantly after a long stretch of silence.
“Guess I wasn’t in a mood to be touched.”
“Have that problem with Maya?” she chirps.
I glare at her for a second before returning my attention to the road.
“Touchy. T
ouchy,” she says around an amused drawl.
“Drop it,” I warn.
“Or you know, you could just go get her. You’re going to be at war no matter what. She’s going to be in danger no matter what. You can be at war and in danger together.”
“Not until we have Herrin handled,” I say while bristling.
“Herrin is of no consequence. Even with his best sources, he’d never figure out who Maya is. And the Families would obliterate him before he even found Phillip to strike up a deal. He’d know that. If anything, Herrin would fear you more if he found out Blackbird was teamed up with you.”
I say nothing as we drive, because I refuse to let her twist this and make me feel as though sending Maya away was pointless.
“This is it,” I say when we’re parked a safe distance away. “We walk from here.”
She follows me out of the car, and because we need to be stealthy, she says nothing as we hike through the patch of desert that spans for almost a mile, and finally come out behind a few sheds that offer us coverage.
We both peer around, and I mentally curse. There are twice as many men here today. If not three times as many.
I jerk my head back, avoiding being seen. I half wonder if they saw us come through the desert, even though it’s night. It’s doubtful I can spot all of them.
“Lot of security,” Sarah whispers.
“Possibly triple the amount here last night,” I say just as quietly.
I peer around the edge again as a guy walks out of the warehouse with a cigarette lit and hanging out his mouth, an AK-47 hanging off him like it’s just any other day.
Sarah backs back up, shaking her head.
“Why would they triple security?” she asks in a hushed tone.
I shrug, because I’m not a fucking mind reader or psychic. I don’t just know these things.
I glance around, noting the spotlights seem to be trained toward the sky, weirdly enough. Not the desert.
Sarah and I both silently start trekking back, waiting for guns to fire at any moment. That side was clear last night. Seemed to be a blind spot. Tonight, not so much.
Fortunately, they never detect us, and we make it all the way back to her car that I crank immediately.
“Something had to have happened for him to amp up security since yesterday,” she says in a normal tone as I drive us back toward Halo.
“Regardless, it’s going to be twice as hard to get in there now and make this plan work,” I growl.
“And you told no one outside your circle that you were doing this, right?”
“That’s why we called you in. We don’t know who else we can trust right now, so only the circle and you know about this.”
She heaves out a frustrated breath. “Then obviously something else is going on. We need to find out what. I’m going back later tonight, because I’m like a ghost when it’s just me.”
“Too dangerous, and if—”
“Axle, I’ve taken on jobs that were ten times more complicated than this one. I can handle scouting solo. I need to see if I can’t get a closer look at what’s going on inside that place and what has them armed to the gills, shining spotlights on the sky instead of the desert.”
When we make it back to the warehouse, Sarah is the first to exit, ending our argument prematurely.
She bursts through the doors, and we find a few of the girls from the strip club lingering near the bar for some weird reason. Tiffany, Simone, and Darla.
Sarah walks right up to them, and Simone and Darla throw their arms around her, hugging her tightly.
“What’re you girls doing here?” she asks as she pulls back.
Darla wipes a tear out of her eye. “Herrin’s guys shot at the club when we were in there. We didn’t know where else to go. But the guys were killed. A bunch of Grim Angels were there. They drove us here to meet up with Drex.”
“Always something,” I groan.
But then a smile graces my lips. Herrin just fucked the hell up.
The Grim Angels on our side just killed any chance he had of beating us.
About damn time he fucked up. I was starting to get tired of him winning.
“By the way, who is Tiffany?” I hear Sarah asking as I walk away.
“I am.”
I’m not sure what else is said—nor do I give a fuck. I jog down the stairs that used to be restricted to anyone outside the circle, but given it’s the only place not in need of some construction right now, it’s obviously where we’re conducting business.
Nicholas—President of the Grim Angels—is casually propped against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, when I reach the bottom of the stairs. He and Drex look over at me, both of them wearing the devil’s smirk.
“Nicholas has some guys tracking down where Pop is staying right now. He’s all too ready to help us take them out.”
“Good. Because we may only be able to focus on Herrin for a minute or two. Our other problem just got a little extra security.”
Drex’s lips thin, and he turns back to Nicholas. They clasps wrists and shake once.
“We’ll be in touch,” Nicholas says. “I noticed there was no longer an FBI detail on Herrin. Seems a little odd they went from watching his every move to vanishing right when he wants to try tearing five different towns apart.”
They don’t know the FBI was pulled off to hunt down the notorious AJ after they found out she had been staying with us. Nor do they know she’s sent them on a wild goose chase that has them stalking half the country for her.
We keep that to ourselves.
Drex’s knuckles are a bloody mess when he runs a hand along his jaw. “Things are changing a lot in Halo. We’re about to raise some hell to let people know that we’re not weak just because we’re split. Probably best those feds aren’t around.”
Nicholas snorts and winks at him. “Understood, brother. Let me know if you find him before I do.”
Drex nods, and Nicholas walks by me, careful not to brush against me on his way out.
“Where’s Ben?” I ask Drex when I hear the door closing topside.
“In a few pieces right now. Jude is rinsing out the room.”
“That didn’t take long,” I point out.
“I don’t have your patience. I just make it hurt really fucking badly all at once.” He grins, but it falls quickly. “Now tell me what the hell is going on with the other place.”
“It’s covered with men and crawling with security. We should move forward with the other hit. Is Sledge up for it?” I ask him.
Drex pulls out his phone with his other bloody hand, and sends a text. When it chimes with a response, he looks up at me. “Message is being sent. Liza will be dead within the hour, and she’ll be delivered through one of his goons that Nicholas brought to us alive. The guy was pointless—had no idea where Herrin is. New prospect sent to his death for tonight’s little show that cost Pop a lot more than he realizes.”
“If he doesn’t know where Herrin is, how will he send the message?” I ask him.
Drex just smirks. “Because Pop will find him. And when he does, whatever guys are sent, we’ll end them. Because we’ll be following the little weasel until someone shows up.”
“I feel a lot better about this fucking game,” I tell him on a breath, leaning against the wall.
“So do I. We’ll get back to the junkie, though. I promise.”
I shrug like I’m unconcerned, and turn to head up the stairs again. The second I reach the top, I see Tiffany staring blankly, her body as pale as they come, as Sarah and the other two girls talk animatedly about the old days.
“You good?” I ask Tiffany, who blinks a few times before her eyes meet mine.
She practically scrambles away from me, and I roll my eyes. Forgot that the majority of women are terrified of me. Maya tended to make me forget.
And just like that, she’s in my head all over again, leaving me to wonder if someone else is watching her dress, or skate, or do her bizarre other ritu
als.
I’d probably kill someone if that was the case.
This fucking sucks.
CHAPTER 36
MAYA
Groggy, I hear a few voices that sound miles away, even though I’m pretty sure they’re in the same room. My eyes struggle to open, and each peek I manage just offers me a glimpse of light trying to make it through the black, cloth bag over my head.
When the voices start growing more distinct, I get a little excited at first, hearing the voice of my savior. The excitement is fleeting, though, because the words he’s saying register next.
In that blink of an eye, he goes from savior to traitor in my mind, and my stomach roils.
“This was never the fucking plan, Lathan! How am I supposed to explain my absence that coincides with hers? I just drove us from New York to fucking Texas, and my phone has been blowing up with calls from Smitty. I had to kill John. Fucking John! Because you swore he was one of your men, and he wasn’t. He almost managed to kill me before I even made it to her. We’re lucky she listens to her music so damn loud when she skates. You fucked this all up, and then didn’t even bother to show up with a ride for her.”
I hear a sniff, like someone is snorting something, then laughter.
“You’re far too annoying. Sure you don’t want some?” Lathan’s voice has chills rising up my spine.
“Snort your drugs with your other junkies all you want. Just give me my half of the money, because there’s no way in hell I can go back.”
“As soon as my sister awakes from whatever drug-induced coma you’ve left her in—”
“I had to sedate her when I realized I was going to have to drive her out here myself,” the traitor growls.
“—I can torture all the account information out of her, and you can take your money and run,” Lathan goes on, pretending there was no interruption.
A phone ringing has the traitor cursing. “It’s Dad. Again. I have to tell him something.”
“He won’t suspect you. Tell him your phone was dead and you were fucking that little whore you love so much. That little excuse has worked for you before.”
