“Maybe.” Smith smirked. “You never know what’ll make a man break.”
He stood up as Skye wrestled with her bonds. “And you.” Smith pointed the crop at a man in the shadows. “We’ll make sure to put this toward your debt.”
Skye stretched her neck trying to see who he was addressing. Beside her, Robby moaned, curled up on the linoleum floor.
“Oh, you want to find out who our mysterious informant is?” The bald man crooked his finger at the man. “Come on out and say hello to the lady.”
Julius edged out from the wall. He shook his head, sweat beading on his forehead. “I’m sorry Skye. So damned sorry.” He waved at the pots and pans hanging overhead. “They came to me for protection money, and I didn’t have it.” The manager gave Smith a sideways glance. “I never have enough.”
Smith clapped a hand on Julius’s shoulder, making the man wince. “He’s been my eyes and ears here. Sent me your brother when he kept yapping about work.”
A foul taste filled her mouth. “You.” She spat out the words. “You put Robby up to this.”
Julius shook his head. “I didn’t know this was going to happen to him. You have to believe me, I didn’t know,” he pleaded. “He wouldn’t stop asking me for more and more work, and I couldn’t give it to him. What was I supposed to do? I wanted to help him and they kept banging on the door asking for more money and I thought it’d solve both our problems. Then Finn showed up. I told you, I told April to tell you to get rid of him, get away from him as much as you could. That he was bad news, hanging around the bikers. I tried…” His voice trailed off as he stared at the floor.
“My God…” Skye shook her head. “What have you done?”
“What he had to do,” Smith said.
He walked over to Robby. “All you had to do was die, you little shit. All you had to do was lie down and die.” Smith turned his head and spat on the tiled floor, making Julius flinch. “Instead you end up the luckiest man on earth, between surviving the overdose and coming back. Too bad it’s all for nothing.”
He glared at one of his men. “Stay here. They make a move, kill them. If they don’t make a move, wait for my phone call.”
Julius stepped forward. “Wait. You said nothing about killing nobody.” He pointed at Skye and Robby. “Not here, not in my kitchen.”
Smith glared at him until Julius lowered his gaze, then turned his attention back to his flunky. “You don’t do anything until I call. If you don’t hear from me in two hours, you kill the three of them and run for our exit point.”
“But…” Julius shook his head. “I helped you.”
“Yeah.” Smith sneered at Julius. “Take him out first. Make it fast and painless. There’s my thanks.”
He looked at Skye. “One last time—tell me who he’s working for, who he answers to. Another cartel? Another gang?” He bent over, showing tobacco-stained teeth. “FBI? State troopers?”
Skye pressed her lips into a tight line.
“Good and loyal. I’ll make sure they put that on your tombstone.” Smith moved back. “Whoever he’s working for, he’ll break in the end. They all do.”
The gang member Smith had instructed to stay behind frowned. He scratched his beard, sending flakes drifting to the ground. “You sure about killing Finn? If he’s a federal agent, it’s going to bring a lot of heat down on our heads.”
Smith strode up to the man and placed the riding crop against the biker’s cheek. “That’s why I’m going to do it and not you. You’ve caused enough trouble for me today. You kill these three and leave Finn to me.” He nodded to another pair of men. “Stay here and wait for my call.”
Touching the crop to his eyebrow, he saluted Skye. “Good night.”
Then he spun on his heel and walked through the back door, followed by the rest of his men.
The roar of motorcycle engines filled the air, the bright headlights stabbing through the diner windows and into the kitchen for a brief moment before disappearing.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Finn stomped on the gas pedal, tamping down the rage that threatened to cloud his mind. He’d peeled out of the parking lot as soon as Smith hung up. The car around him seemed to vibrate like a ticking bomb, ready to go off at any second.
Dylan came on the line, answering on the first ring. “Talk to me.”
“Where the hell are you?”
“On a side road—you’re about to blow right by us.”
Finn didn’t bother to look around for one of the familiar black vans. “The deal went south, in case you didn’t figure it out by now.”
“I got that impression,” Dylan said. “So, what’s up?”
“Smith wants me to meet him out on the highway. Says he’ll trade Skye for the drugs. Exit 223, gas station nearby.”
“We’ll pass the info to Mac.” Finn heard someone tapping in the background. “You know Smith is lying. As soon as he gets that car he’s going to kill the two hostages before taking you out.”
“He can try,” Finn barked. “But I’m not going to go down easy.”
“Damned straight. Just sent the info to Mac. His men are scrambling. They were set up to jump the Wolf and his gang at the truck stop.”
Finn frowned. “I didn’t see them.”
“That’s sort of the point,” Dylan replied. “They’re trying to redeploy, and it’s going to take time. We’re right behind you—Wyatt’s down with a concussion, but Ace is with us and Jessie’s dying to take a piece out of the Wolf.”
Finn shook his head. “Can’t slow down and wait for you. The clock’s running, and I can’t afford to stand him up.”
It was easy to imagine Dylan shaking his head, his tone saying it all. “Mac’s people…”
“Mac’s people aren’t going to be doing anything other than collecting bodies. If you catch up to me in time, great. If not, see you on the other side.” Finn cut the connection.
…
“Julius.” Skye shook her head. “I can understand why you’d have to work with these monsters, but how could you give them Robby?” She stared at the semi-conscious man beside her. “My little brother.” Her voice cracked on the last words, and she pressed her lips together as tight as she could, holding back tears.
The large man sat on the stool and spread his hands. He shot a glance at the biker standing nearby before speaking. “Jake there mentioned one time when he came to take their cut that they needed someone to drive. I told Robby, and he agreed to meet Jake. How was I to know it’d go bad?”
“Because they’re criminals,” she hissed.
Julius dropped his chin. “Don’t go judging me, Skye. I gave you work, April gave you shifts. You got no soapbox to be standing on to try and lecture me on this. They threatened me. I never wanted this to happen.”
Skye swallowed hard, remembering her recent encounter with the gang at the truck stop.
“I know you didn’t. They’re damned intimidating when they put their minds to it. You did what you thought was right for you and the business.”
She twisted her wrists again and felt the faintest bit of give, the rope moving against her slick and sweaty skin.
Skye took a closer look at the nearest gang member, her heart racing as she recognized the name. If this was Jake, the same man Finn had spent so many hours talking to, he might be a person she could work with.
He stood there, arms crossed as he leaned against the wall and studied them.
“Jake.”
The man glared at her, but Skye kept talking, unwilling to be intimidated. “Why did you do this to Robby?” She ached to reach out and hold her brother, except she could only lean against him as he lay on the cool floor. “He drove your car. He brought it back. What did he do to deserve this?”
Jake stared at the semi-conscious Robby. “You get on the wrong side of Smith and you’re going to pay for it.”
“Like Finn?” Skye ventured.
Jake pulled his lips into a tight line before speaking. “He’s a g
ood man. Just made bad choices.”
“You talking about Finn or yourself?”
Jake opened his mouth to respond but shut it with a loud snap.
…
Finn had two choices—take out the Wolf, or try to find Skye.
His heart wanted to find her, except if he didn’t take down this asshole, she’d be pissed.
It didn’t make it easier as he scanned the highway for the exit, keeping an eye in the rearview mirror for the state troopers. The last thing he needed was to be pulled over for a broken tail light or any other excuse for a traffic stop.
His goal was simple—get Smith under his control, one way or the other. After that, he could negotiate with the rest of the gang for Skye’s safety.
Any other option wasn’t a viable one.
The exhaustion of the drive up was gone, stripped away by anger and fear for the woman he loved.
Smith’s instructions took him onto a side road, much like the entrance to the Rest ‘n’ Relax. He didn’t find that a coincidence—likely the gang had checked out more than a few secluded places to work their drug deals.
He couldn’t save everyone. But he’d be damned if he wouldn’t do his best to save who he could.
Faint streaks of light splashed across the dying night sky as Finn turned off his headlights.
I might go down, except I won’t be alone.
…
“Why don’t I make us some food?” Julius looked at Jake. “You and the boys gotta be getting hungry.”
Jake stared at him like he was crazy. “What?”
Julius rubbed his hands together. “I get hungry when I’m nervous. No use heating up the grill for one burger.” His gaze fell on the pistol stuck in Jake’s belt. “Just a thought.”
Jake chewed on his lip for a second, sucking in the salt-and-peppered whiskers. “Okay. Put on one burger for me and two more for the others. One for you.” He pointed at the cook/owner. “You make any funny moves, I’ll shoot you right here, right now.”
“Yes, sir.” Julius took an apron off a nearby peg and put it on. He busied himself with the usual routine of turning on the flat top, heating up the metal surface.
Skye watched him, pulling at the rope on her wrists. If she could get free, it’d still leave her outnumbered and outgunned, the three bikers and Julius against her and Robby.
Hardly a fair fight.
Julius tied the apron strings and hummed as he went about the kitchen, bringing together what he needed to make up his burger platter.
Skye frowned. There was something off about Julius, and it wasn’t just the fact he was an accomplice to kidnapping and murder. His movements were what you’d expect from an experienced cook, except stilted, every step a bit slower and a bit more calculated, as if he were picking his way through broken glass.
He kept glancing at her and Robby, an odd expression on his face.
She prayed it meant they had a chance to survive this.
…
Finn drove slowly up the road. The billboard signaling the gas station was a faint shadow of a picture, the image blasted away with time.
The station itself wasn’t much better. The pumps were rusted and covered in dirt and dust, the windows boarded up with plywood—someone’s attempt to preserve the building. It hadn’t worked. He could see one board hanging haphazardly at an angle, letting wild creatures inside.
The only wild creatures he needed to worry about were on the outside.
In the growing daylight, he could see Smith and his gang standing beside their bikes.
There was no one else nearby, not that he could see.
He parked near the group and cut the engine. He got out of the car with slow, measured movements, very aware of the weapons in full view – pistols, knives, brass knuckles.
It was unlikely anyone would make a move before Smith ordered it.
Smith stood up and rested his hands on his hips, the riding crop sticking out from his right hand. “Thanks for coming. Wasn’t sure for a minute if you were going to run.” He smiled. “It would have been more fun if you had. Hunting people down is one of life’s true pleasures, and I don’t get to indulge too often.”
Finn shook his head. “I never run from a fight.”
“Is that what you think this is going to be?” He slapped the riding crop against the side of his leg. “I see a man who’s going to give us our shipment then beg to live long enough to watch me put his girlfriend and her brother down like sick dogs.”
Finn tilted his head to one side, mimicking Smith’s pose. “I don’t beg.”
A chuckle came from the assembled men.
Finn continued. “I’m willing to accept your surrender at this point. No one needs to get hurt, and it’ll help your status with the law if you go down easy. This applies to everyone. Put your weapons down slowly, and you’ll have a chance at parole before you start collecting your Social Security pensions.”
Smith raised one eyebrow. “If anyone’s going down, it’s going to be you.” He gave a thrust of his hips. “And maybe Skye before I put a bullet through her pretty little brain.”
Finn shook his head. “Well, if that’s how it’s going to be.”
“Yeah,” Smith growled, all joviality gone. “That is.”
“Good.” Finn smiled, feeling the rush of his blood. “I was sort of hoping you’d decide to fight.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Julius flipped the burgers, the sizzle filling the small kitchen. Skye’s mouth started to water despite the tense situation.
She glanced up at Jake. “He could get things together faster if I help him out.”
Jake chuckled. “Thanks, but I think he’ll manage.” He nodded at the cook. “Smells good. That’s a mark in your favor.”
Skye pulled again on the rope, and it slipped against her skin. Beside her, Robby slept fitfully, his head in her lap. He’d woken up and moved closer, his arms around her for comfort. Smith hadn’t left orders for his hands to be tied, not seeing him as a threat.
“You guys use knife and fork for your burgers?” Julius snatched three of cutlery bundles out of the basket, the napkin folded around a knife and fork.
“What? No.” Jake scoffed. “Who the hell does that?”
“Okay. Just checking. You never know, people get all fancy at times.” Julius spun around and dropped the white bundles back into the basket.
But not all of them.
Something fell into her lap, hitting the side of Robby’s head before sliding down to rest on her leg.
One of the silverware sets.
Including a steak knife.
She shifted her hips, and it slipped almost out of sight, Robby’s shoulder-length hair helping cover it up.
A weapon.
Julius turned back to the plates, finishing up the buns. “You wait until you taste this. Going to be the best thing you ever had in your life.”
Jake leaned against the wall, arms crossed in front of him as he watched the cook finish off the hamburgers.
A buzzer went off, signaling the fries were ready.
Jake smiled as Julius went to the other side of the kitchen and shook out the wire basket onto a rack, letting the fries finish draining away the last of the hot oil. “This was a good idea.”
“I thought you were Finn’s friend,” Skye said.
Jake glanced at her for a second before turning his attention back to Julius. He wasn’t going to lose sight of the man using the hot grill in a kitchen full of things like cleavers and big knives.
Robby turned his head and smiled at her as his hand curled around the silverware. He pulled the paper tab apart with a flick of his finger and slipped the knife free before hiding it under his sweatshirt.
With a shock, she realized he wasn’t as weak and incapacitated as she thought. As they’d all thought.
Add in Julius’s defection, and the odds were almost in their favor.
Almost.
…
Finn stared at Smith. “
You going to do something or just play with your stick?”
The gang leader’s lips turned up in a snarl as he pulled the pistol from his waistband. He put his hand down by his side, index finger caressing the trigger. “Might want to save your breath. I could shoot you right here, right now.”
“You could,” Finn agreed. “But it’ll make you look weak to your crew.” His attention went past Smith to the assembled bikers. “Man like this, he needs to keep proving himself. Anyone can pull a trigger. Takes a man to do it up close and personal.”
Smith shook his head. “I only fight those I figure are worth my time. You are not.”
Finn rolled his shoulders. “Too bad. I was hoping to give you some payback for the beating you laid on Robby.”
Smith smiled and turned his head to address his men. “He wants to play fair.”
A wave of laughter swept the gang members.
“No.” Finn’s response brought Smith back around to face him. “I just needed a few minutes more for them to get into position.”
A flash of movement at the corner of his eye signaled the fight was officially on.
A drone dropped out of the sky and landed on the ground between Smith and his bikers. The flashbang grenade riding on the top of it exploded a moment later, deafening in the rising dawn.
Finn moved before the drone hit, ducking to the right and twisting around toward Smith.
Smith swung his pistol, searching for a target as he tried to recover from the surprise attack. Finn grabbed the man’s right arm, yanking him forward. Smith roared, his free hand flailing as he tried to swing around to punch, his pistol useless.
The gun jerked, sending a bullet into the smoke.
Finn prayed it didn’t hit anyone.
He tucked the arm under his own before snapping his right elbow upward into Smith’s face, enjoying the thick crack of a broken nose.
A satisfying gurgle reached his ears, confirming the strike.
Smith spat out blood, still struggling in Finn’s grip.
The biker’s arm shook and his hand opened, releasing the pistol. It fell into the dirt at their feet.
Smith roared and brought his left hand around to punch Finn in the side of the head.
Hard Run Page 19
