by James Tate
"Answer it," I urged him, sobering up. "It might be the guys."
He let me go and grabbed for his phone, wincing slightly at the movement on his injured arm. The scowl he gave his screen told me it wasn't Kody or Steele, though.
"Cass," he said, answering the call on speakerphone. "What's going on?"
"Wish I knew," the older gangster rumbled back. "Is the kid there with you?"
"I'm here," I spoke up, frowning at the tense way he snapped out his words. "What's wrong?"
He blew out a sigh. "No idea. But Zane's up to something. I reckon it's got something to do with you."
Archer and I exchanged a worried glance. "Why do you think that?" Arch asked cautiously.
Cass grunted. "Little fuck had a meeting this morning with his inner circle."
"Nothing suspicious with that," Archer murmured, confused.
"Without me," Cass elaborated. "He's been acting shady for a few weeks, but shit just got weird these last few days."
Archer snorted and rolled his eyes. "Since when is Zane not shady?"
"Worse," Cass grunted. "Anyway, I don't have much more. Just keep all eyes on the kid. Whatever is going on, it's about her."
I bit my lip, meeting Archer's concerned gaze with my heart in my throat. We really didn't need to add another player to the board this late in the game.
"Gotta go," Cass growled. "Stay alert."
He ended the call, and Archer ran his hand over his hair, then cursed.
"What do we do?" I asked in a quiet voice. Worry was knotting my stomach, but I had confidence in all Archer had already done to safeguard us.
He shook his head, thinking. "Nothing," he finally said. "The worst thing we can do right now is leave here. Ryan and Adamson are still guarding the door, and the Timberwolves will be here as backup soon. We just stay put and hope my brother isn't really stupid enough to try anything."
I groaned. "He is, though, isn't he?"
Archer sighed. "If he is, I'll kill him. Simple as that."
Yet somehow, that didn't make me feel better. Did I want Archer to have his own brother's blood on his hands? It was bad enough that I'd carry Samuel Danvers’s death with me forever—not that I regretted killing him for even a second—but I'd rather spare Archer that.
"Let's hope it doesn't come to that," I murmured, then sighed. "Wanna watch a movie with me? Sounds like it could be a while before Kody and Steele get back."
He let out a long sigh and tossed his phone onto the coffee table, then sank back into the sofa. "Sure, why not?"
We settled in together to watch some lighthearted comedy, but neither one of us was paying attention to the screen. We were both tense and alert, knowing it would just be a matter of time before something happened.
About ten minutes into the movie, Archer's phone pinged, and he groaned.
"Bad news?" I guessed.
"Maybe," he murmured, thoughtful. "Zed's guys are held up in traffic. Some accident on the bridge that blocked two lanes."
"Could be a coincidence," I offered.
Archer shook his head. "I don't believe in coincidences."
As if with choreographed timing, the fire alarm screamed to life. It damn near deafened us with its piercing volume, and I clapped my hands over my ears in instinct.
Archer gave me a silent command to stay where I was, then grabbed a gun and rushed over to the door. He took a second to peer through the peephole, then tugged the door open to speak with our security guards.
"Decoy?" he asked one of them, but the guard shook his head.
"Uncertain," he replied.
Archer jerked a nod. "Stay alert; I have a bad feeling." He closed the door again, then hurried back over to me. "Here, take this." He handed me his gun, then strode through to the bedroom.
I got to my feet, following him with the gun in hand. I needed shoes on at the very least, just in case we did need to evacuate.
Archer was quickly dressing, pulling a black T-shirt over his muscular chest. So I sat on the end of the bed to put my socks and shoes on, then swept my hair up in a high ponytail. The alarm was still screaming, making my head ring, but I ignored it.
"Wear this," Archer told me, ripping open a carefully wrapped gift box. He lifted a delicate necklace out. "It's a gift from Steele, but I doubt he'll mind me giving it to you."
I frowned in confusion at the odd timing for a present but lifted my hair out of the way so he could clasp it behind my neck for me. The pendant was a small, gold music note that sat just an inch below the hollow of my throat.
"Arch—" I started to say, but was interrupted by heavy pounding on the front door.
Both Archer and I grabbed our guns before hurrying back through the suite to open it.
"Not a decoy," the guard informed us. "Smoke is coming up through the south fire escape. Hotel is on fire; we gotta get out of here ASAP."
Archer spat a string of curses, then grabbed a second gun to tuck into the back of his jeans. He handed me two extra clips for mine, and I stuffed them into the pockets of my hoodie.
"Alright, stay close. I'll put money on the fact that this is a trap." Archer looked grim, but I knew where his head was at. What were our other options? Stay put and risk burning alive? That certainly didn't factor high in my list of preferred ways to die.
We moved out quickly, heading for the north stairwell to get out. Adamson took the lead, followed by Archer, then me, and Ryan took our rear. At each and every bend of the staircase, they followed military-style procedures. Despite the pressing need to get out of the burning hotel, no one was taking chances at being ambushed. We'd waited so long after the alarm had initially gone off that the stairwell was empty, all the other hotel guests probably having already made it outside.
Around the time we reached the seventh floor, the heavy sounds of boots on stairs traveled up to us from below, along with voices.
Archer and Adamson exchanged a flurry of hand signals, then Adamson took off ahead, hurrying down the next few flights well ahead of us. Meanwhile, Ryan peered over the railing and gave a small shrug.
"Looks like firefighters, boss," he told Archer in a low voice.
Archer gave a nod, peering over the railing himself. "Probably," he murmured, "stay close anyway, Kate."
We continued down and soon ran into a half-dozen fully geared-up firefighters. But... no sign of Adamson.
"Hey," Archer barked when the firefighters were on the landing below us. "Where—"
That was all he got out before one of the "firefighters" pulled a gun from under his heavy jacket and shot Archer straight in the chest.
"No!" I screamed, reaching out to grab Archer. My fingers snagged his T-shirt, but he was already falling. His weight tipped forward, and I could do nothing but watch in horror as he toppled down the short flight of stairs toward the firefighters.
Ryan grabbed me faster than I could fully react, shoving me behind his body and around the low corner of the stairs as he popped off a series of bullets toward our attackers. He dropped three of them, but then he, too, collapsed.
My pulse thundering, I clutched at my own gun. I kept low, hiding behind the low railing but knowing it'd only be a matter of seconds before the remaining attackers were on me. Tears burned at my eyes, but there was no time for falling apart. If I was going down—and I probably was—then the least I could do was take some of them with me.
With that thought, a calm resolve flooded through me. I slipped into a cold, emotionless trance and let my fresh training take the reins.
Quicker than a whip, I rolled out of my hiding place and fired on my attackers. There were more of them now, but I wasn't shooting to stay alive. I was shooting to inflict damage, and as much of it as possible.
When my body jerked and searing hot pain flooded my veins, I hit the ground with the sweet satisfaction of knowing I'd dented their numbers. That, apparently, was the best I could do.
My limbs lost feeling and my vision blackened, but I still held onto enough consciousne
ss to watch one of the firefighters crouch down beside me, then sweep his helmet off.
Fuck.
"You cunt," I spat with damn near my last breath.
"Such language, Madison Kate," Zane scolded me. "Your mother would be horrified."
I wanted to curse him out, to tell him my mother would have personally cut his balls from his body for this. But... I had nothing left.
The fire alarm continued to scream in my ears, but my whole world went black and my body gave up the fight.
36
Ever so slowly, consciousness crept back into my brain. For several moments, it was just a daze of confusion and pain, but after a series of deep, calming breaths, I found my wits once more.
Enough that I connected some important dots. The first of those was I hadn't been shot like I'd thought. I wasn't bleeding, and I wasn't dying. I'd been tranquilized. That gave me a surge of hope that Archer had only been tranked too... It certainly would explain the way he'd instantly crumpled and the lack of blood spray.
The second thing I assessed was that I was bound. A thick gag covered my mouth, and my wrists were tightly tied behind me. Worse yet, I was in the trunk of a car. Again.
Fuck.
A weak, pathetic sound of fear whined out of my throat before I could get a handle on it, and my body trembled with anxiety.
Pull it together, MK. You survived every other small space; you'll survive this one.
Still, it was one thing to give myself a stern pep-talk. It was another to calm my panicking body down. As it was, I was tugging frantically at my wrist restraints and trying to free myself. The effort was totally futile, and I already knew this, but couldn't stop trying anyway.
The car was moving, the rumble of the engine vibrating through the trunk, and I couldn't stop the flood of worst-case scenarios washing through my brain. What the hell was Zane up to? Why had he suddenly flipped on us? I'd never totally trusted him, but I'd really believed he was looking out for my safety. Why else would he tell me about Archer's marriage arrangement? Why help me out with a place to stay and…?
But the answer was clear. Because it all hurt Archer. And he hated his little brother. Hated the fact that he was beholden to him and that he could do nothing to wriggle free. Until now, it seemed. Zane had made his move, and I could only hope it was all about to spectacularly blow up in his sneaky, lying face.
Fuck.
I had a weirdly confident gut feeling I knew where Zane was taking me. Like Archer had said, we no longer believed in coincidence, and it was all too coincidental that Kruger was in Shadow Grove at the same time as Zane pulled a reckless move like this.
None of my thrashing was loosening my hands at all. It was just exhausting me. So instead, I bit down hard on my gag and turned my effort inward. I needed to survive however long I was going to be left trapped in the trunk of this car. I needed to overcome my claustrophobia, or I'd be no use to anyone when I was eventually let out.
It was hard. It was so freaking hard, and by the time the car had stopped, it felt like I'd been locked in that truck for days. But despite the cold sheen of terrified sweat all over my body, I was still okay. I was still holding onto my sense of self and hadn't dissolved into a mindless puddle of panicked goo, or worse.
The engine shut off, and car doors slammed. Muffled voices reached my ears through the trunk, and more cars arrived. More voices, and the distinctive clicks of guns being loaded with fresh ammunition. There was no doubt in my mind this was going to end in bloodshed.
I just hoped it would be Zane’s and the Reapers’, not mine.
When the trunk finally opened, I needed to blink a thousand times to make my eyes refocus. It didn't help that it was dark outside and several cars parked nearby had their high beams on to illuminate the parking lot.
"Oh good, you're awake," Zane commented with a cruel snicker. "I hate shooting people when they're unconscious. Half the fun is seeing that look of blind terror in their eyes a second before they die." He wasn't looking for a reply from me. He just reached into the trunk and grabbed a tight handful of my ponytail, using it to all but drag me out of the trunk.
Without the use of my hands, I tumbled onto the gravel as soon as he let go of my hair. My cheek stung with a graze, but it was nothing compared to the heavy kick Zane delivered to my ribs.
I couldn't even curse him out, because my mouth was gagged so securely. It didn't seem to deter him, though, and he kicked me again just for fun. Pain lanced through me, and I moaned in desperation.
Fucker was gonna pay for this when I got free. Because I would get free. Somehow.
Zane hauled me up to my knees by my hair and crouched down to sneer at me. "I warned you I was a businessman, Madison Kate. And I smelled money to be gained in keeping you alive. Turns out I was right, huh?"
His smile was wide, and his pupils were unevenly dilated. He was high as fuck.
"You wanna know how much the hit on you was increased to after yesterday's wedding bullshit?" He let out a peel of hysterical laughter. "Your family really wants you dead, little girl. Far be it from me to stand in the way of that, huh?" He backhanded me then, making me lose my balance and eat gravel once more.
One of the other Reapers yelled something out at Zane, but my ears were ringing too hard to make out the words. All I knew was that Zane's drug-jittering intensified, and he slammed a fist into my face so hard I felt my teeth rattle.
My boys were going to murder him for this, even if I didn't make it out myself. Especially if I didn't.
"You know," Zane confessed, yanking me back up to sitting. His face was so close to mine that I could feel his breath on my aching cheek. "Kruger paid extra to have you delivered alive, but he didn't say unharmed. Guess that means he doesn't plan on keeping you breathing for long, huh?" He patted my face, sending spikes of pain through my skull, but I could do nothing but glare.
The sound of more cars arriving pulled Zane's attention, and I decided to throw caution to the wind. How much worse could my situation really get, right?
I dropped to the ground, letting my body crush my bound hands into the gravel as I kicked out my legs.
Boom. Nailed it.
Zane howled, clutching at his junk and spitting curses at me. I tried to roll to my feet, but was stopped by a scruffy, bearded Reaper. He swung a fist at me as I staggered up from the gravel, knocking me straight back down again. This time I wasn't getting up so easily. A high-pitched whine had started ringing in my ears, and my vision was getting spotty.
How hard had that motherfucker just hit me?
Zane gave me no time to pull myself together either. His hand went around my throat, and he climbed on top of me for better leverage. The sheer hatred twisting his face was what scared me the most. His eyes were so similar to Archer's, but the fury and disgust spoke to years of instability.
"...fucking whore," he was snarling at me, but my ringing ears were only picking up fragments. "...like Deb... baby..."
If I wasn't being choked to death, I'd have had something to say about that. He clearly thought my mom had been cheating on him when she got pregnant, when in reality she'd been raped. Then again, Zane wasn't proving himself any more of a man than Samuel, so maybe it wouldn't have made a difference to him either.
A loud bang sounded somewhere close by, and Zane startled enough that his grip loosened. I greedily sucked gulps of air, refilling my aching lungs as I blinked the tears out of my eyes, but Zane just seemed more pissed off by whoever had interrupted.
"...something of mine?" Someone was asking him, and the Reaper leader scowled deeply.
"I'm just doing you a favor," Zane snarled at the newcomer. "You wanted her dead, right? Consider this a freebie."
Apparently my distant relative didn't like Zane's offer, because a moment later a gun was pressed to the older D'Ath's forehead.
"If you want to be paid, Zane, I suggest you hand over my property immediately," the man said in a cool, accented voice.
Zane scowled down at
me again but slowly raised his hands up and climbed off me to back away.
I wasn't about to be shot lying down, though, so I rolled over and wriggled up to my knees to face my would-be killer head on. I wanted to look into the eyes of the man who’d murdered my mother and grandmother. The man who'd probably pushed his own wife down the stairs to paralyze her and take control of her estate.
"That's quite far enough, Madison Kate," the man told me in a bland tone before I could stand up fully. "You're one tough girl to catch, you know that?"
All the punches and choking on the ground had loosened my gag enough that I could spit it from my mouth and wet my lips.
"Maybe you just weren't trying hard enough," I retorted, my voice husky and edged with pain. My whole damn body hurt, and a sharp agony when I breathed hinted at a broken rib.
Karl Kruger just tossed his head back and laughed. His gun didn't waiver, though. A quick glance around the parking lot told me just how outmatched I was too. Zane had six guys with him, all decked out in the full gangster costume with bandanas and tattoos on display. Kruger had brought twice that with him.
Where were Kody and Steele? Had they found him, or was the whole thing just one big setup? Or, worse yet... had they walked into a trap and been killed?
No. No way. I refused to even consider that possibility. They were alive, they were all alive. There was no other option.
"I have to confess," Kruger told me with a smile, "I haven't had this much fun since I tracked your mother down."
My stomach rolled with disgust, and he just clicked his tongue.
"Silly me, I was so worked up from the excitement of it all, I never dug too deep. Maybe if I'd stuck around, I would have worked out what she did to cover you up. You... the one and only blood heir to Wittenberg."
"What about Selena?" I asked, glaring up at him and trying my very best to ignore the gun pointed at my head. "Your wife is a blood heir. Isn't that what this is all about?"
Kruger parted his lips to reply, then grinned and shook his head. "Nice try, girl. You won't trap me into confessing all my deep dark secrets here for one of these criminals to use later." He jerked his head toward the Reapers. They'd backed off a small way, but they hadn't left. Probably hanging around to get paid once I was dead.
