by Evelyn Glass
Abbey shook her head. “No. No, I haven’t — oh God. Is she okay?”
“I think so. The man who grabbed her — he’s the one who brought me here, wherever here is — said that she was okay, but he made it sound like her breathing—” Emma forced herself to take a breath. Abbey’s grip on her fingers was painfully tight, and she wouldn’t help either one of them by sending them into a panic. She made herself remember Abbey’s medicine cabinet, and how similar it was to her own. Who knew how the woman was feeling right now, even if she had been in a calm and neutral situation. Some meds didn’t have to be taken far off schedule for the missing dose to start screwing with your head. “I told him what she needed. What inhaler she needed. He seemed to care. I think he’s going to help.”
“How could you have let this happen?”
The words were like a slap, but Emma couldn’t pretend she didn’t deserve them.
“I didn’t want to,” she said simply. “Dean came to get her, saying you’d called him to, and someone snatched her out of the room while I was letting Dean in. I still don’t have any idea how they got into the school. We’ve been running since then, using Dean’s contacts to try and figure out where you two were. He thought the Scorpions were behind it, and this was some kind of ploy or leverage against him.”
Abbey shook her head, but it didn’t seem like she was trying to negate what Emma was saying.
“If that’s the case, no one’s said anything,” she said. “But they’ve given me food, and taken me to the bathroom when I’ve said I needed to go. They’re not hurting me. I don’t know what’s going on, but it’s like you said. They don’t want me dead. At least, not yet.”
“And you don’t have any idea where we are?”
“Not a clue. Someone hit my car yesterday when I was in traffic. I called Dean to tell him to get Mia because I was going to be late. Someone grabbed me out of my car, and when I tried to fight, I got hit in the head. I was in and out for a long time. I was in at least a couple of different places, I think. But beyond that? I have no idea.”
“Okay,” Emma said. “Dean will come for us. We’ll get out of this.”
The other woman laughed, her voice cold. “Girl, it’s a good thought, but let’s figure out our own deliverance, okay? Just in case that boy is running late like usual.”
Emma couldn’t put her finger on why exactly, but it was one of the more comforting things she’d heard in the past twenty-four hours.
###
For a few minutes, Emma listened to Abbey’s slow breathing, but there didn’t seem to be any more conversation to be had. Emma couldn’t think of anything in particular to say, and just chattering to fill the air sounded annoying even to her. The best thing to do, she decided, was to get some rest. She was painfully tired. Being unconscious in a car was not the same as sleeping, and her entire body ached for a little bit of sleep. She laid down on the narrow pallet, and closed her eyes, letting herself drift. She didn’t feel safe enough to sleep, but she let her brain power down for a little bit, hoping to feel more alive in a few hours. More resolve to fight would also be nice.
When the door burst open, she was startled, her heart leaping up into her throat and making her stomach clench. The heavy door slammed against the wall, bouncing back, and before she was even upright, she braced herself for a blow to the head or the body.
It didn’t come, though. There was light pouring into the room, and she found herself flinching away from it, but no one tried to hit her. She saw a big, bulky man filling the door frame, skin a medium brown, his head covered in small, narrow braids.
“The girlfriend and the sister,” the man said, looking back and forth between the two women. Emma glanced over at Abbey. She was quietly pleased to see Abbey watching the big man with a steely look.
“Chains,” Abbey said. “Should’ve known. Emma,” she said, glancing across the room, “Dean’s guess at the Scorpions was right. This piece of walking shit is their second-in-command.”
The man—Chains—spat on the floor. “Don’t say that shithead’s name here,” he snarled. “Dean Patterson is responsible for the death of one of our brothers, and he’s going to pay for it.”
“Wait, what?” Emma shook her head. “Dean didn’t kill anyone. What are you talking about?”
The man eyed her, but he answered her. “Last night. One of our brothers was found dead. Fucking decapitated. Left in the gravel pit like common fucking trash. That’s not how our brothers deserve to be treated.”
“No, hold on,” she said. “I was with him when that boy — Fred, right? — was found. Dean had nothing to do with it. I was with him all day yesterday, and Fred was dead when we got to the pit.” It was amazing that she could say her name without vomiting. She didn’t let herself think of him there, of what he had looked like, of that eerie space between his head and his body. That wasn’t going to do her any good at all.
“There’s something bigger going on here,” she said. “Someone grabbed Abbey and gave her to you, right? Same as they did me. And they’re sending you after the Night Titans. Someone’s trying to start a war between your two clubs, and if you’re not smart, it’s going to happen. And more of your brothers will die.”
It seemed like an incredibly cogent argument to her, but the big man was just shaking his head. “Piece of ass will say anything to protect herself and her man. Don’t bother. I know he’s on his way to us now, and don’t worry. We have ways of dealing with him, and we’ll make sure that you get all the pieces. What do you like best, little girl? His dick or his fingers? Maybe his tongue? Come on, what kind of souvenir do you want?”
There was an explosion of laughter behind Chains, and she realized that there were several men standing behind him. How many? Three, four? Could she run at him, get past him, and get out?
Even if she did, where would she go? She’d barely seen anything outside when she’d been dragged from the car, and the areas outside the city weren’t distinctive enough for her to know where she was. She didn’t have her cell phone – she couldn’t call for help or try the GPS. She had to play this out. She had to hope Dean was really coming, and that he knew what he was heading into.
Chapter Seventeen
Dean
Dean pulled up to the old warehouse with half a dozen of the Titans riding with him. He was starting to feel like he’d crossed this town a dozen times in just a few hours, even though it had been much less than that. Worry for Emma, worry for Abbey, and worry for Mia were all consuming a substantial portion of his mental abilities. Fighting with that Rat back at the clubhouse had thrown him for a loop, and he didn’t like it at all. That was the second time in two days someone had pulled a potentially deadly weapon on him. And the way Marv had been so damn coy about what was waiting for him here. What did that son of a bitch know? There had to be something, something that could explain all of this. But what it could be? Dean didn’t have a damn clue.
The outside of the warehouse still looked deserted. This was an old factory from when this little New England town had been a manufacturing hub. It had gone out of business some thirty years ago, and many of the machines had been broken down for scrap, shredded, taken away whole cloth. Some were left, skeletons left out for the buzzards. Broken glass everywhere. Graffiti everywhere.
This was how he would have hidden the Titans, too, if it had come to that. Make them look like the spot was just as deserted as it had always been. Because he was looking, he could see signs. The tire tracks were too fresh, and there were too many of them for him to be looking at a bunch of tracks from random kids out here on bikes. He could see the flash of unbroken glass up on the second floor, where he would have set up some mirrors to help relay information down to where he could stay out of sight.
Marv hadn’t explained why he’d sent half the club off while he’d gone to confront Connell and the Titans, but then, it hardly mattered. Whatever rational the man wanted to offer, the point was that he had information about the women, and this was
where he’d said Dean had to go to get it. There wasn’t anything else to discuss. For better or worse.
The brothers who’d followed him formed up behind him without discussion. Dean didn’t lay hands on his piece as he walked towards the warehouse, but his hand itched to wrap around the iron. It was nothing good, being out here without something to protect himself. It was dangerous in the worst possible way. But if he walked into that house looking like he’d arrived ready for war, he’d be dead before he spoke to anyone, and that wasn’t acceptable. No matter how angry he was, no matter how much he wanted to hurt someone to ease off his own guilt. It wasn’t okay. He couldn’t let it be okay.
About five feet from the door to the warehouse, which stood slightly open, Dean planted his boots and waited.
“Marv sent me,” he called, hooking his thumbs in the belt loops of his jeans, and waiting for a response.
It took some time for one to come, and then a voice came out of the top floor window. Someone was leaning out, not far enough for anyone to have a clear shot at him unless they were some kind of sniper, but enough to make sure their voice was clearly heard. “Who are you?”
Well. That was an ego-blow. Dean had to laugh. He’d gotten a little too used to people knowing exactly who he was the last few days anyway. “Dean Patterson. I’m the VP of the Night Titans. I was sent by Marv to take possession of a woman you have here.” Emma or Abbey, he wondered. Who would be brought out to meet him? Who, if anyone, was going to be here?
There was a long moment, and then Dean saw movement on the ground floor, across from where he was standing. A figure, tall and broad, stood back in the shadows.
“I haven’t heard from Marv,” rumbled a basso voice. “Who the fuck are you again?”
“Dean Patterson,” Dean said, running through the fine points of his posture in his mind. The last thing he needed to do was to set off some over-tired and trigger-happy ex-militia dude who was on completely justifiable edge. “VP for the Titans. I know you guys have been through hell tonight, and I’m not looking for any trouble. I just want the woman.”
The man took a few steps forward, moving into a patch of weak sunlight, filtered by the dusty shards of glass still left in the windows. He was bald; it looked like the top had come naturally, and he’d buzzed the sides short to match. He had a trim beard, however, salt and pepper brown, and tattoos of chains starting at his knuckles and wrapping up his forearms, then disappearing into his elbows. Dean placed him then. Called Chains, the man wasn’t an official within the Scorpions organization, but he was known as the kind of guy who really enjoyed doing the club’s wet works. Dean’s stomach churned at the thought of anyone he knew at this man’s tender mercies, but especially those he cared for.
“What woman? What’s her name?”
There was something about the way he asked. It put Dean even more on edge than he already was, and he felt the Titans behind him shift carefully. They didn’t want to set anything off, any more than he did, but they were just as concerned as he was. He could feel it, breathing behind him.
“That’s the funny thing,” Dean said, pushing his lips into a smile that he hoped seemed genuine. “Marv wouldn’t tell me. But he assured me that at least one of them was here. That in fact, you had traded something important to get her, so that you’d have leverage over the Titans and me. Because Marv seems to have a funny idea that we were somehow involved in what happened to your clubhouse.”
“Weren’t you?”
“No. There are a lot of things that the Titans does, man, but violence and shit that gets people killed ain’t on the list.”
The big man shifted, crossing his arms across his chest in a way that made his tattoos ripple. “That’s not what I hear. In fact, the rotting body of my friend Fred seems to put the lie right to that idea.”
Dean wanted to shout, but he forced himself to bite back his irritation instead. “Fred Killian was a friend of mine, too. I’d known him for years, since school. I want to find who killed him, and I want to obliterate them. If you want, we can have a foot race, see who gets there first. But me and mine had nothing to do with that. I give you my word.”
“Yeah? And what’s your word worth?”
Why was this guy standing here, jawing on his own? There had to be more people here, something had to be happening while Dean was hyperfocused on the man in front of him. He trusted the rest of the Titans to have his back, but was there something none of them were seeing? He tried to be subtle as he glanced up, looking for rifles or guns in the upper story windows, but there wasn’t anything.
“I think you’ve got this the wrong way around,” he tried to say, but there was a tire iron coming at his head, so fast that he almost didn’t duck out of the way in time. He stumbled back, losing his footing, and threw up a hand, fully expecting the tire iron to break his forearm and then come for his skull.
But it didn’t. Chains stood over him, the tire iron raised and ready. The other Titans members had drawn back, and suddenly everyone had a gun on everyone else.
“Let’s all just take a breath here,” Dean said, but no one seemed to be paying any attention to him. He’d fallen badly, lost his breath, and his voice was barely carrying at all.
“Bring them out,” Chains shouted, and one of the men that Dean had known had to be somewhere started to move. “Let them see what’s going to happen.”
###
Emma
Emma tried to stay calm when the biggest number of the club members stepped out of the small backroom area, Chains in the lead. She could hear some conversation towards the front of the building, but not anything specific. Her heart was pounding in her throat when someone came back and motioned to the thugs still holding on to her and Abbey. They were pushed forward together, each of them held by one strong arm. Emma’s instinct was to kick and fight, but when she glanced sideways, she saw that Abbey was moving along smoothly. It made sense. They didn’t know where they were going, and they didn’t know how to get out of this damned building anyway. It was a maze of industrial machinery and raised catwalks and all sorts of mess. Emma knew she could find her way out if she were walking along, but running away from someone? Someone who was bigger than her, and madder than her? That didn’t sound like a good idea at all. She moved along, not pushing back against the too-tight grip on her wrists. No matter how much she wanted to.
She blinked hard when they walked her into the light. This didn’t look like the same dirt yard where the man in the car had left her behind, but she wasn’t sure she’d recognize it anyway. She looked around and saw a group of men facing off, around one big brute with a tire iron, holding it over a man on the ground. It took her a moment to recognize him, and then his name burst from her mouth before she could control herself. “Dean!”
Both Dean’s head and the head of the man over him — Chains — snapped in her direction. She tried to kick at the man holding her, but he easily widened his stance, so her foot went straight through his thighs instead of connecting. Well, that was fine. She threw her entire weight into him, twisting so that she hit him in the bread basket. He made a woomf sort of sound as he fell, the air knocked out of him. She ran, darting through people who had not expected to see her fight, and placed herself directly between Dean and Chains, her arms spread wide. She had never felt so exposed in her life, but she stared up at Chains.
“Leave him alone,” she said, fully aware of how her voice was shaking.
“What’ll you give me, little girl?” Chains asked, a smirk on his face and in his voice. “I already told you. This man killed one of my best friends. A boy I was supposed to protect.”
“I know,” Emma said. “You told me. And I told you that he didn’t do it. I’m pretty sure that the guy who did do it was the shithead who dropped me off here. But you said you didn’t want to hurt me. You just wanted to send a message.” He hadn’t said any of those things, but hey, it might work. It seemed like at least a sensible shot in the dark. “Come on, Chains. Come on. Has
n’t enough blood been spilled today?” Shit, she sounded so goddamn corny, but he was adjusting his grip on the tire iron, and his eyes were shifting in a way that reminded her of a really big preschooler who was realizing that the situation was not unfolding the way they had wanted it to. She reached out slowly and laid her hand on the center of Chains chest. His eyes closed, and she almost thought he was holding back tears for a moment.
“Come on,” she said. “Let’s work together. Let’s fix this together.”
The tire iron fell in the dust.
“Let her go,” Chains said, his eyes still closed. “Let them all go. I don’t want to see them again. Get out of here.”
Abbey yanked free from the man who held her and ran towards them. Emma thought she’d run to Dean, but instead, she went straight past him, into the arms of one of the women who’d come along with Dean, wearing the same colors. They slid into a passionate kiss, then simply clung to each other.
Dean watched them, mild surprise playing over his features, and then he took Emma’s hand as she boosted him to his feet.
