Hell or High Water (The Four Horsemen MC Book 8)

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Hell or High Water (The Four Horsemen MC Book 8) Page 21

by Rayne, Sara


  “It isn’t fun when people blackmail you into things you don’t want to do, is it, Mr. Beauregard? People can get hurt,” the voice said tartly. “Either go to jail or play the hero for a day, earn some goodwill, and drive your shiny Escalade again. What’ll it be?”

  “You have a deal.” The tone was crisp as a new hundred-dollar bill.

  “Thanks, dearie. I’ve already routed your GPS. Don’t dawdle.”

  The line disconnected from Beauregard.

  “Seriously, who are you?” Lex asked.

  “Never mind. When Beauregard arrives, he’ll be pissy. Big Daddy Beauregard must’ve been a busy man—he dropped kids all over the country. Byron has younger siblings, so play on those big brother instincts and you’ll be fine. Good luck.”

  “Wait—”

  “You can do this, Lex. Save Voodoo. I got your back.”

  The call disconnected.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  The attractive blond man stepped out of the Escalade looking like the devil himself in an expensive black three-piece suit. His leather loafers shone, his shirt gleamed white, and Lex would’ve bet every cent in her bank account the coat slung casually over his shoulder was custom tailored. He strolled towards her, something deadly in his walk and a lazy smile on his handsome face.

  It was like being stalked by a lion.

  Instinctively, she tugged at the cuff restraining her in the smashed Mustang, trying to flee the scene.

  “Ms. Cooper, I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure of a formal introduction,” he drawled as he opened the car door. “Byron Beauregard, at your service. Apparently.”

  She’d never felt a stronger compulsion to run away in her life. Beauregard wore dangerous like an expensive cologne—with style.

  “I see my reputation precedes me. Take a breath. I don’t hurt women unnecessarily.”

  She cleared her throat, licking her dry lips. “You may want to work on your reassurances. They sound like threats.”

  “Then I’m doing it properly.” Beauregard leaned across her to examine the gearshift. He smelled like soap and tobacco, clean but somehow sinister. He grasped her cuffed wrist. She wondered if he could feel her racing pulse, knew how afraid she was. “Goddamn, what an ugly gear shift. He’s such an asshole.”

  “Have to agree with you there.”

  Beauregard pulled a thin piece of metal from his pocket and inserted it into the lock. Two soft clicks later, the cuffs opened. He tucked the cuffs and tool into his coat.

  “How’d you do that?”

  He stood so she could climb out of the car. “No one taught you how to pick a lock? Captain’s shirking his fatherly duties.”

  “He’s the protective sort. And I didn’t have big brothers until recently, so I guess no one got around to it.” If the hacker was right and the mobster had a soft spot for younger siblings beneath his Kevlar exterior, anything she could do to appear in need of a protector would help her cause.

  Blood rushed to her head as she stood, and she swayed.

  Beauregard caught her arm. “You okay?”

  “I may or may not have a concussion.”

  “Jesus H. Christ.” He shoved her into the car again and knelt on the pavement, pulling a set of keys from his pocket. After clicking on the tiny flashlight attachment, he grasped her chin between his thumb and forefinger and flashed the light in her eyes. “Does it hurt?”

  She held perfectly still. “No.”

  Was he actually playing nurse? The hacker’s info must’ve been solid.

  “You’re fine. If you’re anything like your daddy, you’re hard headed.” His tone was sarcastic but somehow kind.

  “Can I get up now? We have to rescue Voodoo.” She pulled away from his grip.

  “What is all this sentiment about? Come to think of it, what is the MC’s little princess doing so far away from the castle? Did we run away with a biker?” Beauregard laughed. “How’d your father take it?”

  She sighed in frustration, clenching her hands on her knees. “We need to go now.”

  “I’m gonna buy me a white horse if I keep ridin’ to the rescue.” Beauregard sighed, standing aside so she could climb out. “Fine, let’s save the biker.”

  Lex trailed him to the Escalade, hoping she wasn’t about to get kidnapped. Again. He opened the passenger side door for her, and she was relieved to find working handles inside.

  “Your school made national news. Sounds to me like the football player you killed was no great loss to the world.” Beauregard climbed in on the driver’s side. “But considerin’ your unfortunate history with ‘car accidents’ and men dyin’, I’ll ask you to keep your hands to yourself.”

  “The football player was an accident, and I didn’t kill Apollo.”

  “No, you let him escape—much better.”

  “He was a bad guy, but I’m not a killer.”

  “So judgmental. I am.” He raised a brow. “What’s the verdict on me?”

  “Today, it depends on how fast you drive.”

  “I’m sure we’ll arrive in time to save the day.” He stomped on the accelerator. “Probably.”

  “You act like doing the right thing causes you physical pain.”

  “Let’s get this straight—I’m doing the smart thing.” He rolled his shoulders. “Doesn’t hurt, but it itches a mite.”

  They raced down the highway. Beauregard darted in and out of traffic with a casual elegance. His hard blue eyes stayed sharply tuned to the road ahead. He was observant and proactive. Oddly enough, once reasonably assured they were on the same side, she felt secure riding next to him. The more dangerous her companion, the safer she felt.

  I’m so fucked up.

  Lex counted the seconds until they arrived—the breaths Voo might have left. “Thank you for helping me.”

  “Let me clarify something. We’re not besties. We’re not gonna have ‘a moment’ here. I’m gonna save your boy’s ass because it serves my best interest and then we’re done. Understood?”

  “Damn. I’ll cancel the hair braiding and pillow fight, then.”

  He snorted. “You remind me of someone.”

  “Oh, yeah?”

  “Ain’t a compliment. She’s a smart-mouthed brat, too.” They drove through a break in the chain-link fence into the deserted parking lot of Mt. Olympus.

  “We’re here.”

  “How’re we gonna get in?”

  “There’s no ‘we’. I’m going in and pulling the MC’s proverbial ass out of the fryer. Again. You’re waitin’ in the car.” He pulled his keys from the ignition and waved them like a flag. “Gettin’ in ain’t a problem. I own this building. That’s how I got sucked into this mess.”

  “I’m going with you.”

  He climbed out and faced her. “I’d rather not explain to Voodoo why you’re in the trunk of my car—but I will.”

  “People never tell you no, huh?” She folded her arms. “You’re wasting time.”

  He scanned the parking lot, then he pulled a pistol from his jacket and pointed it in her direction.

  Lex threw her hands up. “Whoa! Okay, I’ll stay in the car.”

  He fired over her shoulder, and she heard a thud behind her. When Lex turned, Johnny lay dead on the ground, a bullet hole straight through his forehead.

  Lex swallowed a wave of nausea. Something long and pointed stuck out beneath his jacket. Kneeling, she moved the fabric aside. Voo’s knife was tucked into a pocket with four playing cards—black eights and aces.

  The dead man’s hand.

  The same one tattooed on Voo’s wrist. She gripped the hilt of the knife.

  “Looks like you’re comin’ with me after all.” Beauregard yanked her upright and sprinted towards the building, aiming the gun forward. They ran around to the large steel door marked “Employee Entrance” and locked with an electronic keypad. Beauregard punched in a code, and it flashed red.

  He cursed.

  “What? I thought you had keys.” Her hands closed reflex
ively on Voo’s knife.

  “Keys are the second layer, and the bastard changed the access code.”

  Beauregard’s phone started playing “The Devil Went Down to Georgia”.

  “Really?”

  “That’s not my ringtone.” He hit the speakerphone button.

  “Hello, dearies.”

  “Goddamn hackers.” Beauregard sighed.

  “Mercy me, aren’t we in a mood? See, Lex—told you he’d be pissy. Place the phone camera against the keypad and say ‘Alohomora’.”

  “Pardon me, goddamn nerd hackers.” Beauregard turned the camera towards the keypad.

  “Don’t be rude, Byron. I’m taking nerdy back.” The keypad flashed green, and the lock released. “Follow the GPS—I routed you the fastest way to the basement. I’ve shut the gas off to the building, but whatever’s blocking the runoff pipe must be a physical obstruction. I can’t drain the water.”

  Lex squeezed her eyes shut. If they couldn’t drain the water, her guys were still in danger. How many friends would she lose today? “Can you do me a favor?”

  “Of course. What do you need?”

  “My friend, Josie Bordeaux—she got shot today. Could you check and see if she made it to the hospital or…”

  “I’ll see what I can find, but you have to go. Now.”

  Byron tugged on her hand, and she followed his lead.

  “Good luck, dearies.”

  They raced through the industrial kitchen and down a set of concrete stairs with spray-painted numbers marking the levels. Please be okay, please be okay, please be okay, Lex prayed with every step. The GPS took them straight to the boiler room.

  She pounded on the door. “Voo? Can you hear me? Voo!”

  Beauregard flipped through his keys, trying them one by one.

  “You don’t know what key it is?”

  “Cut me some slack, kiddo—I’ve owned this place for a month.” He finally found the right key and wrenched the door open. The smell of propane gagged her. Water rushed out, flowing over her feet.

  “Voo!” Lex shouted as she jumped down onto the landing. The water swirled to the top of the depression. The guys had been secured to the bottom. “Voo! Boone! Guys, please! Rafael, answer me!”

  Beauregard coughed. “There’s too much gas.”

  As her vision adjusted to the darkness, Lex desperately searched for Voo’s shape. Beauregard grabbed her shoulder, and when she looked at him, the bad news was written all over his face.

  Lex shook her head. “No. You have to help me. There’s gotta be something.”

  “Unless you can instantly clear the propane…” Beauregard’s eyes hardened. “They’re probably dead.”

  Lex glared at him. “You got a lighter?”

  He pulled one out of his pocket, eyes widening when she snatched it. “Are you kidding me?”

  “We ignite the gas, it clears, and the room fills with oxygen. Then we dive down and cut them loose.” A memory flashed in her mind. Last November, she’d been watching Mythbusters with Coyote and had seen an episode about explosions and diving underwater to escape. “They’re safe from the blast underwater.”

  “You sure—”

  “Dive deep if you can hear me!” Lex yelled. Crossing her fingers, she flicked the lighter and tossed it into the room.

  “Holy shit!” Beauregard grabbed her, and they dashed behind the steel door.

  She slammed into the concrete, his weight falling on her like an anvil a second before the gas ignited. An ear-cracking boom resounded through the building. The wall rained dust and plaster down on them.

  Flames shot through the open door, then extinguished. A huge whoosh of air rushed past them, pulling oxygen back into the boiler room. Hunks of drywall crashed down as aftershocks vibrated the hotel’s foundation. The acrid stench of burnt propane filled Lex’s nose.

  Breathing heavily, Beauregard stared down at her. Bits of plaster stuck in his blond hair.

  Lex was stunned they were still alive.

  The mobster sighed. “What the fuck is wrong with you people?”

  “Born this way, I suppose.” She rolled from under him, racing into the room and down the metal stairs. Beauregard’s steps echoed behind her as she kicked off her tennis shoes and splashed down into the water.

  “There!” She could just see the tops of two dark heads in the water. The explosion could’ve knocked them out. “I’ll get Voo, you grab Boone.”

  “This is a new suit—Hugo Boss ain’t cheap.”

  Lex ignored him. Voo’s knife still clutched in her hand, she dove in. The cold shocked her muscles as the water closed over her head.

  Opening her eyes in the dark water, she swam towards them, lungs burning. A wave crashed over her as Beauregard dove in behind her. Lex grasped Voo’s floating body and felt for his wrists to cut him free. Then she hooked her arm around his torso and kicked hard, propelling them to the surface.

  Gasping, she tread water as Beauregard came up beside her with a sputter, Boone in tow. They swam to the stairs, and Lex dragged Voo out of the water. His chest was still. Pressing her thumb to his wrist, she prayed for a pulse.

  Nothing.

  Panic bubbled in her throat. Her ears ringing, she shook her head violently. She couldn’t lose him like this.

  Beauregard pushed Boone onto his back next to Voo.

  “Oh, hell, they ain’t breathing. Position your hands like this,” Beauregard said, placing his hands on Boone’s chest. “Count the compressions.”

  Shaking, Lex followed Beauregard’s instructions for CPR, pressing down hard on Voo’s chest. And when the mobster began mouth-to-mouth, she did as well.

  Lex sealed her mouth over Voodoo’s and blew a breath past his lips.

  Beauregard sat back on his heels as Boone gasped, shaking violently as he spit water up. “Welcome back.”

  Voo remained still as the grave. His dreads puddled around his head, open lips tinged blue.

  “Don’t stop,” Beauregard snapped.

  She repeated the movement, trying again to force air down his throat.

  Nothing.

  No. Fuck this. I gotta win this one.

  “Please, baby, please.”

  Lex blew another steady stream of her oxygen deep into his lungs.

  Voo gasped and sputtered, turning to the side and spitting up mouthfuls of water. Lex collapsed against his chest, laughing as tears rolled down her face. Voo held her tight with one arm, his other hand landing on Boone’s shoulder as if assuring himself they were all alive.

  “And I thought my association with your club would be useful.” Beauregard sighed. His suit was ruined, and he stripped the wet jacket off like a banana peel.

  Ignoring the mobster, Voo framed Lex’s face with his hands. “I never thought I’d see you on this plane again, ma petite.”

  She couldn’t believe it. They’d actually done it.

  They’d fucking won.

  “You found me.” Voo pressed his forehead against hers, his hoarse voice reverent as he whispered, “Sweet loa, who put you in my life. Merci, Bon Dieu.”

  She grinned. “Nothing’s keeping me from you anymore. Come hell or high water.”

  “Even both on the same day.” Voo gripped her tighter. “Where’s Apollo? How did you get away?”

  “I crashed the car.” She bit her bottom lip as his eyes widened and waved off his concern. “I’m fine, but he ran off. I don’t know where he is.”

  “And how did you end up with Beauregard?” Voo narrowed his eyes at the man wringing his tie out.

  “The Devil Went Down to Georgia” echoed in the concrete room from where he’d dropped his cell and wallet on the landing so they wouldn’t get wet.

  “Oh, for fuck’s sake.” Beauregard stalked up the steps.

  “My e-fairy godmother made him do it,” Lex snickered.

  “Hello, dearies. Everyone survive?” The electronic voice held a note of worry.

  “We’re all good, thanks,” she called.

/>   “Found your friend. She’s alive and in ICU. Things are serious, but the nurses are hopeful.”

  “Thank you.” Lex shared a look of relief with Boone.

  “And Byron, good job. I’m proud of you.”

  “So glad you approve.” Beauregard chucked his phone into the water, like a boy skipping stones.

  Still holding his chest, Boone looked up at Beauregard. “The mob boss saved our asses? Gotta say, didn’t see it coming. Thanks, bro.”

  “Don’t mention it. Ever.” Beauregard’s lips twitched.

  “Embarrassed about givin’ me mouth-to-mouth?” Boone grinned as Beauregard’s eyes narrowed. “Was it good for you?”

  “I’m done here. I’m sorry to say we’ll meet again.”

  “You’re taking off?” Lex asked.

  “You gettin’ attached to me, kiddo?” Beauregard wrung the bottom of his formerly crisp shirt out. “You’re too much like your daddy, and that smart-ass son of a bitch isn’t my idea of good company.”

  “You put the smug in smug bastard.” Lex was giddy with relief.

  He inclined his head. “I take very sincere pleasure in wishin’ you both a lovely trip back to Hell.”

  Voo flipped Beauregard off as he ascended the stairs then turned back to Lex. “I’m so glad you’re alright.”

  “So am I. Too bad the bastard got away.” Boone sighed heavily, wiping the wet hair off his brow. “He took the papers erasin’ our debt.”

  Voo looked at his friend over his shoulder. “Did he?”

  “No. You ol’ son of a pickpocket, you! When you fell against him?” A slow grin spread across Boone’s handsome face.

  “You’ll need to take a hair dryer to it.” He pulled a sodden envelope from his cut and handed it to Boone.

  “Rafael, thank you.” Boone caught his hand.

  “Thank you.” Voo squeezed his eyes shut. “You kept me together down there. I wouldn’t have made it without you.”

  “It’s the way it always should’ve been. Me and you havin’ each other’s backs.”

  “I won’t forget again,” Voo promised.

  “I know how you can make it up to me.” He flashed a grin. “Let me take Lex out to dinner and dancing. See who she leaves with when I give it my all.”

  Lex laughed.

 

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