The howl he let out sent a shockwave through my system and I pulled the knife back out, freezing, unable to do anything but fight down the bile that was rising in my throat.
Before my eyes, I watched a screaming, bleeding Lex take a right hook to the side of his face and fall unconscious to the ground.
Then there was Breaker, yelling at me, dragging me toward the staircase.
We had barely made it into the finished side of the basement when a battered Greg came barreling through with Lex hanging off him only half conscious, going to the side of the bar and opening a door into a small white panic room.
I almost laughed as Breaker dragged me up the stairs and into the kitchen.
I had half-expected some kind of war to be going on. But all there was was confused chaos. Anyone we encountered looked through us like we weren't even there. So we just kept moving, Breaker pushing the door to the outside open, and we knocked over a still living, breathing, laughing Shooter.
I felt a wave of relief that made all my air whoosh out of my system at the sight of him. I barely knew him. Had literally shared only a handful of words with the man. But he was good. He was willing to sacrifice himself for me. He offered me his pinkie for support. And he and Breaker loved one another like brothers. That was enough for me.
I was so happy to see him alive, I felt tears stinging my eyes.
But then we were running again, watching Lex's property start to break into wild fires from whatever the hell kind of explosives were planted all around.
We had just gotten to the truck when I saw Jstorm.
One look was all I needed.
I knew.
It could have been anyone in a hood.
But I knew.
You could have knocked me over with a feather when a hand reached up, pulled off a hood, and revealed a woman who had to have been younger than me. Or at least, she had one of those faces, eternally young. Sweet. Delicate. Except she wore her eye makeup heavy and her lips red and her tattoos were bright and colorful against her pale skin.
We got into the car, driving away, me watching Jstorm in the rearview mirror.
“Fuck,” Breaker growled as we all did the weird 'there was a loud noise, you instinctively duck' thing despite being in an enclosed car. The ground underneath the truck seemed to shake for a long time even as we kept driving away.
Jstorm turned her head toward our retreating car and though we were too far away to see, I was sure she was grinning.
I found myself smiling back as we drove out of sight.
My mission in life was to take down Lex Keith.
There was a poetic sort of justice for it to be a woman to be the one to finally do that deed.
Maybe it didn't turn out the way I had planned- selling off his information to someone who would do him in for their own personal reasons.
It turned out better.
Two women who didn't know each other from Eve conspiring to, in the end, blow his world to pieces.
I fought the laugh and lost, putting a hand over my eyes and letting the weird hysterical sound roll through me.
“Doll,” Breaker's voice called, firm, making me turn my head and look at him.
“Yeah?”
“How the fuck do you know Janie?”
“Janie?” I asked, my brows drawing together. It was just a... plain name for someone as badass as she obviously was.
“Janie. From Hailstorm.”
“Hailstorm?” I asked, my face dropping. Hailstorm. The survivalist camp full of ex-military who did all kinds of odd jobs- hits, jumpers, corporate espionage. You name it, they dipped their toes in it. And they were good. Like... really good. They were also, like the Henchmen MC and the Mallick family, not in Lex's pockets.
“Yeah, doll. That was Janie... Lo's like... favorite pet,” he said, making an image of Lo pop into my head. A fake image, because like... nobody knew what Lo actually looked like. I pictured him big and mean with a scar down his eyebrow. Don't ask why. That's how I viewed him.
I swallowed. “That was Jstorm, Breaker,” I told him, and her SN finally clicked. Jstorm. Janie from Hailstorm. Holy shit. Was Hailstorm in on my mission to take down Lex? That kind of made sense. They did stuff like that sometimes. Just for the greater good. And they were known for using bombs. I guess it was all the ex military in their ranks that made them like the big booms.
“Speaking of Hailstorm,” Shooter's voice broke in as he moved to lean up between mine and Breaker's seats, holding an arm out, pointing out the windshield and up the hill.
Where Hailstorm was smoking.
“The fuck?” Breaker said, jaw getting tight.
“Shit,” Shooter said, but an accent slipped into the word, dragging it out, making it sound like “sheeee-it”. Making it sound southern. I turned my head slightly, looking at the side of his face, wondering about him, wanting to know his story. “What did we get ourselves into here?” he asked, shaking his head.
“Fuck if I know,” Breaker said, shaking his head. “But we ain't hanging around to find out. We'll drop by my place, get some cash and supplies and get the fuck out of here,” he said, sounding all bossy and I felt a familiar tug of desire in my core. Bossy Breaker. There was nothing better.
“Drop by my place too,” Shooter said, shrugging when Breaker sent him a disbelieving look. “Been in these clothes for a week, man. Need to grab some shit if we are bugging out.”
“Fine,” Breaker said through gritted teeth.
“Oh, can we stop at the motel I was staying at?” I asked, looking between the two of them who were both looking at me like I was crazy. “What? You can get cash and 'supplies', whatever those are. And he can go get clothes? I can't stop and pick up my laptop? It cost me four thousand dollars, Breaker. Four thousand. Plus, I'd like you to scare the hell out of the creep who runs the place,” I added with a nod of my head.
Breaker's eyes slanted to mine, the light blue looking angry. “The creep?”
“Creepy Bob,” I said with a nod. “I was pretty sure if Lex's guys didn't bust in and steal me that he would have used his spare key to come in and roofie me. He was disgusting.”
“Well, now we got ourselves a party,” Shooter said, winking at me with a huge white-tooth grin that made my belly do a weird little flip-flop. I could see him being dangerous if I wasn't already a little too enamored by his best friend.
Turns out, we were pretty bad at the whole 'bug out' thing. It was supposed to happen in a matter of like twenty minutes. That was the whole point. But we drove into town, pulling off in front of Shooter's place. He disappeared inside and came back twenty minutes later, freshly showered and dressed, with two huge duffel bags and a backpack. He threw the two duffels into the flat, pulling a cover over the top so nothing would fly out, and bringing the backpack into the backseat with him.
He saw me eyeing it curiously and unzipped the side, showing me an amount of money I paled to even consider. Then he grinned. “Just to get us started. Got some more stashed in some other places we can hit along the way to wherever we are going.” He paused, then patted Breaker on the shoulder. “We should say goodbye to Paine.”
This got a grunt from a very impatient Breaker. But he pulled the truck down the corner from the abandoned warehouse he had originally kept me and all three of us rushed inside a tattoo shop and was met by a huge (meaning even slightly larger than Breaker) absolutely gorgeous light-skinned black guy covered in black and gray tattoos. I wondered, fleetingly, if all hot guys just like... ran together. Because, really, between the three of them... holy hell.
“So this is her,” Paine said after grabbing the back of Shooter's neck and hauling him into his body, the relief evident on his face. “You worth all this trouble?” he asked, but his tone was teasing.