Chasing Thunder

by Ginger Voight

  “You think it’s M.J.?” Kelly asked, but Snake shook his head.

  “No. Just my idiot brother trying to get himself killed.” He stormed out of the apartment. Before Kelly could follow, he spotted the envelope sitting under the matchbook for Slick. His brow creased as he reviewed the contents, then he pocketed it and headed out the door.

  Kid pulled Baby along the darkened hallway until they reached Mad Dog, who had engineered his master hack from Dominic Isbecky’s own office. It had been a coup to find it unoccupied, especially since they were fairly certain Dominic was setting a trap for M.J. Its hidden control panel, which monitored cameras that surveyed the entire premises, had shown Baby’s exact location, and had afforded the computer genius carte blanche to create total confusion within minutes, giving Kid just enough of a window to rescue their damsel in distress.

  They made it down the service stairs and were almost home free when a big goon of a guy blocked their path. He was wearing the same kind of gang getup those creeps in the alley had been wearing, and Baby was terrified. Kid stood in front of her and Mad Dog stood behind.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” the big guy demanded.

  “To hell if I don’t change my ways,” Kid quipped.

  “Sooner rather than later, asshole,” the monstrous man growled. He took a swing. Baby was astounded as Kid sidestepped and used the goliath’s own body mass and momentum against him, tripping him over a bent knee.

  “Come on!” Kid urged as he pulled his posse forward.

  “I’ll get you fuckers!” the man cried, scrambling to his feet.

  Mad Dog pushed Baby forward as they raced through the few feet of darkness that separated them from the real world. Just as they reached the door, a gunshot exploded, and a split second later a bullet glanced off the doorframe. All three of them flattened against the wall, facing off against the giant man, who was now holding a gun. “You!” he said, pointing at Baby. He waved her over to him and she reluctantly went. Kid tried to hold her back, but she shook her head. If she could spare them, she would, no matter the cost to her.

  The big guy grabbed her and put her in a neck hold. He brandished his weapon at her two friends. “You have a choice, boys,” her captor said. “You can walk right out that door and never look back. Or you can eat lead.”

  Kid’s gaze never wavered. “You’re going to have to shoot me, then. Because I’m not leaving without her.”

  “Kid, no,” she whimpered, which made the big man holding her laugh.

  “Kid, huh? Sounds about right.” He glanced over at Maddox. “And who are you?”

  Maddox squared his shoulders. “Mad Dog.”

  Baby’s captor found this hilarious. “You’re a mad dog? Look more like a pampered poodle to me.” He started to bark and howl at the younger man, and Baby could tell by Maddox’s clenched jaw it was all he could do to stand there and take it.

  Anger bubbled up inside of her. Anger for all the times she didn’t stand up for herself, or that she didn’t say enough was enough. Anger for all the people who thought they could run her over because she was young or because she was small or because she had no choice.

  Today she had a choice.

  She stomped down on her captor’s foot with all her force before sending the point of her elbow right into his solar plexus. He grabbed a fistful of her hair as he fell away. “Bitch!” he hissed. She spun and kicked, breaking his hold and sending them both stumbling away.

  She heard the gunshot before she reached Kid, who was holding out his arms to her. For a moment, she didn’t even realize she had been shot. She heard the noise, contemplated what it meant, and only then did the pain set in. She collapsed into his arms as blood gushed out of her shoulder.

  “Jesus,” he breathed as he held her. “It’s okay. You’re going to be okay.”

  She nodded, even though she suspected he might be lying. Mad Dog hovered over her as well, ripping off the bottom of his T-shirt and holding it to her wound, trying to slow the bleeding.

  Another shot echoed through the hallway. Mad Dog and Kid looked up to find the big guy crumpling to the ground. Behind him they saw X holding a smoking gun. He dropped it to his side as he faced the three of them. “Get her out of here,” he said. “I’ll cover you.”

  “Like we’re going to trust you.” Kid sneered.

  X looked at Baby, who held his gaze for a moment and nodded. She struggled to stand. “Let’s go.”

  Kid and Mad Dog helped her outside just in time to see Richard Bennett arrive with a dozen uniformed officers to meet Agent Llewellyn, who was being attended to by first responders. But it was Snake that all three kids were relieved to see. The minute they emerged, he sprinted from his bike, running towards them. He didn’t even know which of them had been shot. They were all covered in blood.

  He wanted to scream at Kid, but he was much too happy to see him upright and breathing. He grabbed his baby brother in an arm hold hug, kissing his hair. “You little fucker,” he whispered. Logan was all the family he had left in the world. If he had lost him, he didn’t know what he would have done.

  But then he glanced down at Baby, who was wilting like a flower in his strong arms. She was covered in blood and still bleeding. All color had faded from her face. “Baby?” he managed, his voice cracking.

  She gave him a brave smile before passing out. He hoisted her up in his powerful arms and carried her to someone, anyone, who could help them.

  27. SYMPATHY FOR THE DEVIL

  M.J. walked right up to the door of the massive contemporary mansion. She didn’t bother to knock on the big double doors. She waltzed right inside, where uniformed staff greeted her like she was an invited guest, which of course she was. She was taken immediately to Isbecky’s study, where he waited, seated behind another ornate ebony desk.

  In fact, his home office was much like the office at Slick, including the artwork and the “beleaguered good versus triumphant evil” motif. “Déjà vu,” she quipped.

  He offered a smooth smile. “You don’t like the ambience?”

  “It’s not very imaginative.” She shrugged.

  He chuckled and tapped his ring against his desk. “There are other rooms in which creativity is exercised,” he said. “You’ll see them soon enough. You’ll have to reserve judgment until then.”

  “I make it a practice never to reserve judgment,” she said as she walked toward his desk.

  His eyebrow arched. “Judge, jury, and executioner?”

  “Something like that,” she said. “All’s fair, since that’s exactly what you did with my grandfather.”

  He chuckled as he stood. “That was business, my dear.” He rounded the desk. “You shouldn’t take everything so personally.”

  Her eyes bore into his. “You’ve stalked me since I was sixteen years old. There’s nothing more personal than that.”

  He perched on the edge of his desk. “That’s where you are wrong. I’ve had my eye on you much longer than that.”

  The longer he let that tidbit linger, the more nervous she got. “Why?”

  “Your grandfather wasn’t the first Bennett to interfere in my affairs.”

  She remembered that day when her grandfather was shot, the masked man had told him that he had met his son. She’d always suspected that Dick had something to do with it, but she had yet to put the pieces together. “Yeah, I get that,” she said. “I’m not an idiot.”

  He smiled. “No one knows that more than I do. I’ve had the singular pleasure of watching you evolve from a child into a warrior. It has been like studying a living, breathing work of art. I’ve had so many opportunities to destroy you over the years, but it would be like tossing acid on some undiscovered Monet. I couldn’t bring myself to do it.”

  Her eyebrow lifted. “And now you can?”

  He chuckled again. “I might not destroy you, but that doesn’t mean I don’t get to keep you on my wall.” He reached out to touch her face. “Who knows? You might even like it.”
>
  She twisted his arm away, but he was ready for her move. In fact, it was almost as if he were expecting it. He easily spun her right into his arms before pushing her, chest first, onto his hard desk. He ran his fingers over the weapons she kept closely strapped to her person.

  “Like I said, I’ve been watching you for a long time,” he murmured as he pressed his hard body against her. “So I know all your little tricks of the trade. It’s no use fighting, but I sure hope you will. That always makes the conquest more fun.”

  She struggled against him, but he kept her pinned with his body weight and her twisted arm behind her back. “Is that all you want? To fuck me?”

  “So crass,” he derided. “Like any common gutter whore. When are you going to demand more for yourself, Mojo?” he whispered against her ear.

  Her blood boiled as she fought against him, but it only aroused him more. She changed tactics. “I may be a common gutter whore, but you’re the one who wants to fuck me. What does that make you?” He said nothing, so she prodded further. “What kind of trophy can you take from me, huh? You want to put my pussy up on some sick little shelf with all the rest?”

  He laughed, which took her by surprise. He stepped away from her, which surprised her more. “Perhaps I have given you too much credit,” he said. “You still think much too small.”

  She tried to pop up off the desk, but he was ready to use her own momentum to send her backwards to the floor. She kicked herself back to her feet, where she squared off against him, ready to charge, but he met her with his own roundhouse kick, demonstrating advanced combat training. His kick landed right in her chest, winding her immediately. When he grabbed her by the throat and held her to his body, she could feel his erection poke at her back. Every struggle was only giving him more of what he wanted. “Fight me,” he commanded in her ear. “The longer you do, the better it is.”

  “You’re disgusting,” she spat.

  “You have no idea,” he promised as he dragged her down the hall toward his bedroom and into his master bath. He threw her into a large tiled shower stall, knocking her head on the wall. She slid down, disoriented. He held her by the hair and turned on the hot water, making sure it was aimed right at her face. When she sputtered and struggled, he put her in an unbreakable hold, again twisting her arm behind her back. He wrapped his other arm around her neck, with his fingers at her throat. “It’s time to be baptized, Mojo,” he said over the sound of the rushing water. “Welcome to my religion. I’m your god. I’m your devil. And you will submit to me.”

  She couldn’t think, sputtering under the unrelenting assault of the water. He peeled away each of her stealth weapons, which landed with clangs on the tiled floor. He used her own switchblade knife to cut away her top, baring her skin for his lascivious gaze. His teeth clamped down on her tender neck as she coughed and gasped for air.

  “You’ll never be clean, will you, you dirty whore?” he growled into her ear. “Stained with ink. Corrupted by man. And all you can do is bark at my feet like some dog that has lost her bone.” His hand slipped between her legs to grab her roughly. “They were so hell-bent on making you a soldier that they never bothered to make you a lady. Guess that’s up to me now.”

  She struggled against him as he held her directly under the spray. She kicked and used her elbows, until finally she used the back of her head to knock him square in the nose. He stumbled backward, his hold compromised. She twisted herself free and spun to face him. With a ferocious thrust, she slammed him up against the shower stall. She stooped to retrieve her knife, but before she could raise her arm and unapologetically plunge it into his black heart, she was dragged backwards out of the stall by two burly men in black clothing and expensive tennis shoes.

  Dominic Isbecky stood, cut off the water, and emerged from the stall. He watched as she struggled against her two new captors, who held her so roughly that each arm was twisted almost out of its socket. Isbecky’s coal-black eyes were merciless as he faced her. “If you refuse to be a lady, I’ll settle for a pet.” He glanced at the two men. “Take her to the Magic Room.”

  28. SWEET CHILD OF MINE

  Snake brought Kid a soda out to where he was sitting in the emergency room waiting area. Kid said nothing as he took it. Mad Dog’s leg shook a mile a minute, tapping away the nerves they were all feeling as they waited for news on Baby. The situation only got worse when the Rothchilds arrived, complete with PING camera crews in tow. Snake remained standing next to Kid and Mad Dog as he watched the made-for-TV drama unfold.

  Stuart Rothchild took immediate control. He scowled at the young, frazzled Hispanic girl at the desk. “We were told Haley Roberts was brought to your hospital. We are her parents and demand to see her.”

  “Yes, sir,” she said as she reviewed the records, none of which showed anything on a Haley Roberts. When she tried to convey this information to Stuart, he stood taller, spoke louder, and derided her even more.

  “You need to check your records again,” he instructed. “Haley Roberts. H-A-L-E-Y. Si habla English?”

  Just as Snake started for the desk, a large ebony goddess stepped in behind the admittance desk clerk. “Is there a problem here?”

  “This man,” the clerk started, but was interrupted again as Stuart bypassed her completely.

  “My name is Stuart Rothchild,” he announced, as if it should mean anything to the woman staring him down. “We were told our daughter was shot and brought in for emergency care.”

  “What’s your daughter’s name?” she asked.

  He took a deep breath before he said through clenched teeth, “Haley Roberts.”

  She looked him up and down before she referred to the list on the younger woman’s desk. “I don’t see anyone by that name.”

  Katherine joined her husband at the desk. “She was being held by the Hard Candy Killer. She was shot at a gentleman’s nightclub,” she added, as though that last bit of information was enough to make her swoon.

  Just as the older woman put two and two together, a doctor emerged through the sliding doors. “Scoggins family?”

  Immediately Snake, Kid, and Mad Dog rushed to him. The older woman turned to the Rothchilds. “You might want to talk to them,” she said before she ambled off.

  They rushed to where the ER doctor on call was apprising Snake about Baby’s condition. “Excuse me,” Stuart interjected. “We are Haley’s parents.”

  The doctor was confused. “Haley?”

  Immediately distrustful, Kid glared at the Rothchilds. “This doesn’t concern you.”

  Snake put his hand on Kid’s shoulder. “Come on, Logan.”

  “The name we were given was Baby Scoggins,” the doctor said, but Snake shook his head.

  “That’s the name she goes by. But these are her parents.”

  Stuart glared at Snake like he was a bug that needed stomping with his shoe. “And who are you?”

  “Cooper Scoggins,” Snake said. “Friends call me Snake.”

  Stuart sneered at him. “Figures.” He dismissed him immediately and turned back to the doctor. “How is Haley?”

  PING loomed nearby, recording everything. The young doctor tried to herd them to a private corner, but the gossipmongers were relentless. Snake took matters in his own hands. “Get a real fucking job,” he said. He backed them off with nothing more than his intimidating demeanor as he advanced, daring the cockroaches to take a shot. When they finally decided to stand down, the doctor turned back to the Rothchilds.

  “She’s stable. We were able to stop the bleeding. She was shot in the shoulder. It was a clean shot, missed the collarbone, but her lung collapsed. She’s also lost quite a bit of blood. We are admitting her to a room upstairs. I’ll let you know when you can see her.”

  “We want to see her now,” Stuart insisted. “She’s a runaway. Perhaps you’ve seen us on TV each and every night, pleading for her return?”

  The doctor was unimpressed. “I understand your concern. But she is getting the best care
possible, sir.”

  Richard Bennett joined the hodgepodge group. Stuart turned to him immediately. “We need to get back there and see Haley. Please do something.”

  Richard glanced at Snake. “Is your friend their daughter?”

  “No,” Kid and Mad Dog said in unison, but Snake nodded quietly. Richard showed his badge to the doctor.

  With a sigh, the doctor led the Rothchilds through the sliding doors. Kid glared at Snake. “How could you do that? You know what they did to her.”

  “No, I don’t,” Snake said. “And neither do you. She’s their daughter, man. They have a right.”

  With an exasperated sigh, Kid turned on his heel and stalked away. Mad Dog followed.

  Richard turned to Snake. “Now that we’ve solved the mystery of their daughter—” he started.

  “You want to know what’s happened to yours?” Snake finished.

  “Is she okay?” Richard asked softly.

  “Well, I can’t rightly say, Dick,” Snake said. “I’ve been here cleaning up this mess for you.”

  “I know you think I’m your enemy,” he said. “I know she thinks I’m her enemy. But I’m not. How many more people have to get hurt, Cooper?”

  Snake shrugged. “You tell me. This maniac has been on the streets since he murdered Pops more than ten years ago. Seems to me this whole mess could have been avoided completely had you done your job right the first time.”

  Richard studied him. “What do you mean?”

  “M.J. got a call earlier from Dominic Isbecky. He gleefully announced that he was the one responsible for Joe’s death, right before blew the shop to kingdom come. And now he probably has M.J., too. But don’t you worry about a thing, Dick. The Wyndryders are going to settle this old score our way.”

  He started to walk away, but Richard pulled him back. “Don’t make me arrest you, Cooper.”

  Snake advanced on the older man until they were nose-to-nose. “For what? For loving your daughter more than you ever did?”