Betrayal: A Red Dog Thriller (The Altered Book 2)

by Blou Bryant

  “Good,” she said, satisfied. Her needles clicked and clacked as she continued her work while he continued his.

  Three, he had his friends. The rules applied to the Dogs as well, but he was sure he had their needs at heart. If anything, he cared more for them than he did himself. They’d been a mostly quiet, somewhat peaceful group until he’d arrived and shattered their world. The two men who’d led the group were dead because of him. He swore silently that he’d only use them to help them.

  This wasn’t enough. Four, he needed more if his plan was to work. “I need people. The group out front, what’s their story?”

  She gave him a cold look, “You mean you need pawns?”

  He blushed. That was exactly what he meant. “Yes.”

  “They’re my neighbors, here for me, I put out food, and they make sure nobody causes trouble. They ain’t going to war for you and I won’t ask them to. Ain’t invested in you. Life is hard enough for them.”

  “I know,” he said.

  “No, you don’t. You ain’t walked in their shoes.”

  He winced at this, but it was true. There were, however, some people who could help him—and who he could help in turn.

  He himself was the fifth in this series, the one thing he could control. Wyatt made his decision, he said, “Marylyn, is Sandra here?”

  She stopped her knitting, picked up a cloth grocery bag from the foot of the bed, and placed her yarn and needles inside. “You’re ready?”

  He was about to ask her what she meant but realized he already knew. Asking would be pretending. She wasn’t a woman to pretend around. “Can I get clothes—and can you have Sandra bring me my phone?”

  She nodded to an antique stuffed chair beside the bed. There was a stack of clothing on it. “Washed them myself,” she said. Slowly, she moved her rocking chair back to the corner of the room and approached him. With another kiss on the forehead, she said, “I’ll send her in.”

  Chapter 25

  Wyatt managed to get half-dressed before Sandra arrived. She opened the door, only enough to let herself in, and she closed it right behind her. He had his underwear and pants on; that was good enough. He greeted her with a long hug, relieved to see her. “Well, we’re still alive,” he said.

  Eventually, she pushed him back and considered his bruised and battered face. “Just barely, and I don’t think we’re winning,” she said, but it wasn’t a recrimination, she was beaming. There was a joy in survival for the Dogs. Winning was often nothing more than living another day.

  “You said I had to lead. Now you want me to win as well? No changing the rules mid-game,” he joked.

  “Oh, you get funny after a concussion. Rocky said he will kick your ass. After three years of training, you get beaten by a rich nobody?”

  He grimaced. “Next time it’ll be different.”

  “Going back for more, are you?”

  “I’ve got a plan.”

  “That’s not a surprise, you always do, tell me.”

  “We’re going to take the fight to them. Do you have my phone; what time is it?” For this to work, he needed to have his phone on him. Jessica likely had another way to find out what the Dogs were doing, but it wouldn’t hurt to make sure.

  “Evening. Eight or nine, not sure,” she said and put the four phones on the bed between them. “They’re all off.”

  “Which one is…” Wyatt said and noticed little stickers on each. One had his name. “Um, someone labeled them?”

  Sandra laughed, “Quince, she found a label maker.”

  Wyatt smiled. “On the run from murdering drug dealers, and she’s labeling things. That’s great.” He paused and then continued, “We need to hurry before they are ready for us.” He hesitated, wanting to share everything, but someone could be listening. He didn’t trust the phone and didn’t trust all the Dogs. Sandra had hinted that she didn’t either.

  “Okay, we’ve got resources, we will throw everything at them, and we’ll do it tonight. We’ll use the police, Seymour and his mob buddies, street people, whatever it takes. And if we lose, at least we go down fighting. I’m done running. Are you with me?”

  “One-hundred percent, let’s have some fun. What do you need?”

  He needed to warn her about what was coming, but couldn’t say anything out loud. He took a pillow and covered the phones, so their cameras couldn’t see the room. He thought through what he wanted to say and how to say it.

  In the hope of seeing Teri, the young mute he’d rescued and who, in turn, had rescued him, he’d asked Hannah and Sandra to teach him sign language three years before. Despite his efforts, they’d kept him separate for her safety.

  With effort, and likely with several errors, he signed, “Trust me. Follow my lead. Get all together. One minute.”

  She signed back, “Okay. Do you…” he thought she might have said, “Do anything?”

  He held her gaze and signed, “River,” hoping she’d figure it out, that she’d remember her comment at the cottage, and realize that he didn’t trust all the Dogs any more than she did.

  When she nodded and signed, “Yes,” he let out a long breath. She shot him an appraising glance and smiled. “It’s going to be an interesting night,” she said and left.

  When she’d shut the door, he looked around the room and eventually found something to write with. He finished getting dressed, took his phone and left the other three on the bed. Before joining the group, he stopped by the bathroom.

  There was no way there’d be cameras in there. Using toilet paper, he wrote three notes as quickly and concisely as he could, stuffed one in each front pocket and one in his back left. He committed the locations to his memory palace. If he gave the wrong one to the wrong person, it would all fall apart.

  Finished, Wyatt got up from his toilet writing desk and chuckled to himself. It would likely all fall apart anyway. He washed his face, took five deep breaths, put on his best ‘I know what I’m doing’ face and left the room. Pausing, he turned on his phone and then followed the voices until he joined everyone in the small living room.

  Hannah, Wendy and the twins were on a long couch, Marylyn next to them in a fat, comfortable chair. At a dining table, Rocky, Timo, Carl, and Emm were playing cards. Big smiles greeted him and Rocky stood up, arms out. Wyatt shook his head, ‘no.’ Rocky gave him a confused look but sat back down.

  “Where’s Sandra?” he asked and was answered as she came through the front door with Quince. She locked it behind her. “Sit down,” he said, pointing to the living room. Wyatt kept his face impassive, stern even, and watched as everyone moved, the card players bringing their chairs with them.

  Not wasting time, he said, “We need to cut the head off the beast. Tonight, we’re going to take Jessica out. No more playing nice, no more hiding in the shadows.”

  Tito leaned forward, his face flush with excitement. “How?”

  “We’re going to her headquarters, it’s the last place she’d expect us. There is a tower downtown where she lives, where she runs her business. We’ll march in the front door and pull her world down around us.”

  Emmelyn turned in her chair to Sandra. “Are you sure? Shouldn’t we rescue the rest of the Dogs first?”

  Wyatt walked forward three steps, taking the center of the room, right in front. “Emm, me, look at me. Don’t look at her. I’m in charge.”

  Rocky appeared ready to say something. Wyatt shot him a glance that he hoped said, ‘Trust me, I know what I’m doing, this isn’t just me being me.’ With a confused look, Rocky leaned back in his chair, and continued to watch.

  “Yes, our friends are being held hostage, but we don’t know where, we don’t know by who, and we don’t have a plan to save them. Our best hope is to attack her. Once we have her, we’ll have them.”

  Ira said, “I like a fight… but this isn’t a plan, it’s suicide…” she started and glanced at her sister. A moment passed, some communication between the two of them. “Fine,” she said with a pout. �
�We’re with you.”

  Hannah wasn’t so easily convinced. “We’re not killers,” she pleaded.

  “This isn’t a debate.” He snuck a glance at Sandra, she was scowling at him. Good. “We’re leaving at eleven. I need to clean up some things first. I have Ira, Ari and Hannah, and just need one more.”

  Hannah objected, “I didn’t say I was coming with you.”

  “That’s fine, I didn’t ask,” he said to his old friend. “Sandra put me in charge and I need you to heal Patterson. Come with me, come for him, and I’ll drop you off here after.”

  “What’s the plan? I’m not just following you blindly.”

  “That’s the only part of the plan you need to worry about. Come to the hospital, heal Patterson.”

  Her face twisted, “Wyatt… can we talk privately?”

  It hurt him to be short with her, blunt with her. She’d saved his ass so many times, he owed her an explanation. But there wasn’t time, and anything he said could be heard, could be reported. “No, we don’t need to talk. Vasca said we aren’t a democracy, and he was right. The Dogs need leadership and now it’s my turn,” he said.

  This enraged Rocky. “Don’t talk to her like that,” he shouted.

  “Don’t?” shouted Wyatt right back at the big man. “How about we don’t sit around playing games? How about we don’t waste time? I’m tired of arguing!”

  Rocky stood up, fists balled. He had his own way of solving disagreements. Wyatt wanted to take a step back—he’d gone too far—but forced himself to stay standing, to look strong, even though he knew the other man was a bulldozer when angry.

  Sandra saved him. “Rocky, sit down. We’re not going to fight. I told him that I wanted him to lead, and that we needed him to.”

  With one last deadly glance at Wyatt, Rocky stopped moving forward. Still, he didn’t sit down, and kept his fists balled, but he respected Sandra too much to disobey.

  Wyatt took a deep breath. That had been close. “I need one more to come with me to the hospital. Who’s with me?”

  He walked over to Quince, a tall woman, her face covered in piercings with chains linking her nose, lips and ears. He didn’t know her well, she was a sweet, quiet, woman, mostly. There’d been trauma in her past, but he’d never asked for details. “Come on Quin, let’s do this.”

  Timo stood up before she could answer. “I’m with Wyatt,” he said. “I want to fight, it’s about time.”

  Wyatt nodded with satisfaction, he had his one more, that was all he needed. Step one was complete. “Hannah, Timo, you’re with me. Twins, I need you to go to the HUC and clean things up there. Shazam has sided with Jessica and her lap dog. You’re going to take him out and distract her. When you’re done, you’ll join us at the Tower.”

  With Rocky glowering at him, and the others staring, confused and troubled, he motioned to the door. “Come on, let’s move.” As Ira passed him, he grabbed her and gave her a hug, keeping his back to the group. As surreptitiously as possible, he slipped the first piece of paper into her pocket.

  She jumped. “Oh my God, Wyatt goosed me!” she exclaimed.

  With her so close, he couldn’t see her face, but over her shoulder, he saw Ari blanch. She had guessed—or knew—something was going on, she always had a stronger ability to sense others than her sister.

  When Ira pulled away, he saw that she’d got the message. The look of horror lasted only a second and then she pulled him in and kissed him. It was a full, wet, passionate kiss, both of her hands pulling his face to hers, hard enough that their teeth ground together.

  She let him go and it was his turn to be shocked, it took a moment to compose himself and he was glad that nobody behind him could see his face.

  “It’s about time you let people know about us,” Ira said, staring defiantly at the others. “We’re a thing now.” She turned with a flip of her dreads and looked apologetically to Hannah. “I’m sorry, but I couldn’t help myself.”

  Tito slapped him on the back as he passed. “Nice,” he said.

  Wyatt stood still for another moment and noticed everyone was staring at him. In the far corner of the room, Marylyn gave him a nod. With a faint motion of her hand and what he swore was a half-smile, she motioned for him to get out while the getting was good.

  Chapter 26

  Oscar was out front with the neighbors, chowing down on a hot dog and laughing loudly. Wyatt waved him over. “We’re going to see Seymour.” To the twins, he said, “Find a ride or take a bus. Just make sure you’re done in two hours.” Without waiting for an answer, he got in the back seat and motioned for Hannah to do the same. Timo got in the front.

  With his lunch on the dashboard and a napkin in hand, Oscar maneuvered between pedestrians. “To the hospital?”

  “Is he still there? Seymour, I mean.” Wyatt was going to heal Patterson, but also needed to see Seymour for his plan to succeed.

  “Yup,” said Oscar. He ate his dogs as he drove, licking his fingers between every bite.

  Eyes forward, Wyatt tried to think through his next steps but wasn’t given the opportunity to reflect as Hannah elbowed him. “What the hell?” she said, and edged towards the door, better able to stare at him.

  “Don’t worry about it, it’ll work out. Do as I say,” he told her. He’d expected this. The twins could read people, Ari especially, he’d trusted that they’d understand what he was doing, or if they didn’t, at least follow orders. Hannah on the other hand, she didn’t follow orders.

  “Don’t you trust me?”

  “I need you to trust me. Please.”

  “Just like that? This plan of yours? It’s idiotic. I didn’t say it in front of the others, I owe you that much, but there isn’t any way this works out for us.”

  Wyatt wanted to confide in her, to give her a note of her own. Unfortunately, he hadn’t written her one. It was the honesty of her anger that was necessary. She had to be pissed, but it wasn’t pleasant, and he winced. “Jessica will keep coming for us, you know that as well as I do. She’s got the police, she’s got her private security, and she’s got a drug gang working for her. We won’t ever win by chipping away at the edges, she knows too much.”

  “But, a direct attack, and killing her?”

  “I tried to kill her once before and I wish I’d succeeded.”

  “No, you tried to save her. Did you forget that part? You tried to save her and Joe too. Even after all she did. And you know why?”

  He stared straight forward.

  “Because you’re not her. You’re not a killer, you’re not a psychopath. If you go ahead with this, we’ll need to kill people, her guards, the police, anyone who gets in the crossfire. Do you want that blood on your hands?”

  No, he didn’t, but he couldn’t say that. “A couple of lives lost tonight will be better than many over the coming months. The lives of people who work for that evil bitch aren’t worth spit compared to those of our friends.”

  “This isn’t you,” she said. “And Ira? There’s no way you two are together.”

  He wanted to laugh out loud, that was so very true, he was way too repressed for her. “She’s a lot of fun,” he stuttered.

  She stared at Wyatt as if he was mad. He wondered if he’d gone too far—if it was too unbelievable. Eventually, she looked away and shut up. That was good enough, it would have to be.

  When they arrived, the back entrance was quiet. Nobody was there to let them in but the door had been left unlocked. They made their way through the halls and up the elevator without meeting anyone.

  On the third floor, Wyatt stopped at the entrance to the operating room. Seymour was visible through the glass, but it wasn’t time to talk to him yet. “Timo, do your thing, find out where Patterson is being held. Hannah, go with him and provide a distraction if needed.”

  He turned back to Oscar, capturing his attention so he didn’t notice Timo fade into the background.

  “You should talk to Seymour before going to your friend,” the grizzled ma
n said.

  Wyatt didn’t respond and watched until he was sure that the others had left. He pulled the slip of paper out of his right front pocket and put it into Oscar’s hand. “For Seymour,” he said, leaning in, whispering, just in case. “We’ll be back in ten minutes. Perhaps less. Tell him to be ready. Oh, and you left your keys in the car,” Wyatt said and put his hand out.

  Oscar held his gaze for a moment, not long, enough to size him up. “I get it, you got something going on, your friends don’t know about it. Will Seymour be okay with this?”

  Wyatt pointed to the note, “I expect he will.”

  Oscar handed over his keys. “No more bullet holes?”

  Walking away, Wyatt said, “I can’t promise anything.” He reached the end of the hallway and pushed through the double doors. Hannah stood next to a counter, arguing with a nurse. He listened in, she’d made something up about an aunt who had stayed in the hospital and had been mistreated.

  A whispered ‘314’ in his ear told him that Timo had got the information.

  “Honey,” Wyatt said as he stepped forward, and took Hannah by the arm. “I’m sure this nurse wasn’t responsible for the problems with Auntie. Let’s not bother her, please. I told you this was a bad idea.”

  He glanced at the room directions on the wall and walked the two of them up the corridor towards Patterson’s room. The hallway was quiet—one young boy trudging towards them on crutches, wearing only a gown, and two bored looking officers outside a room. That’d be 314.

  “Timo,” whispered Wyatt. “You with us?”

  “I’m here.”

  “Get ahead of us. The second guard, take his gun when Hannah and I get there. Don’t use it, the noise would attract too much attention.”

  “Invisible?”

  “Well, yes, they won’t just hand it to you.”

  “Then they’ll know,” said Timo. The rule was always to keep their special skills secret, hidden. If people knew, the world would hunt them down—for good or for evil.

  “No more secrets and no more hiding. Do it.”