Chapter Forty-Four Blake
Chapter Forty-Four
Blake
Creighton didn’t stop moving. He walked in, saw me, saw the gun, and his eyes went black.
Without pausing, he took one step, put his gun to the back of one of Spence’s brothers’ skulls and pulled the trigger.
Boom!
It wasn’t a normal gun that he was using. The sound vibrated through the warehouse.
At the same time, Lassiter moved out from behind him, wielding a knife. He stepped up behind Spence’s other brother and brought his knife cleanly across the front of his throat. He slit him, stepped back, and left him to fall as blood began gushing from his throat.
Everyone had been focused on me.
Now they turned, seeing who had joined us, but Creighton wasn’t fucking around.
Spence forgot he had a gun and raised both of his hands, as if to stop what was coming his way. It stopped nothing. Creighton aimed at Spence and pulled the trigger, this time shooting through the front of the skull.
Three men were dead within a matter of seconds.
Creighton turned his gun on Tristian West next. He would’ve pulled the trigger a third time except while I’d been distracted, Ashton Walden, who I realized had already been heading toward me because he wanted to save his guard, stepped inside my cell and raised his voice, “Lane.”
Creighton froze, seeing that while I had a gun to my head, so did Walden.
He added, his voice low and calm, knowing he’d be heard clearly, “I wouldn’t.
” As he said that, he took the weapon from my hand and put his own gun’s muzzle against my head.
He swiftly moved so he was standing behind me, his gun now touching the back of my head.
Seeing he had Creighton’s undivided attention, he whistled approvingly under his breath. “Now who’s a good boy?”
Creighton’s eyes went feral.
He was going to kill him. Creighton was a good shot, but not good enough to get off a shot before four other guns turned on him. I didn’t want to math anymore. Even with Lassiter’s help, it wasn’t enough. I didn’t want to lose any of them.
“Eight!”
He stopped, his eyes flicking to mine.
He was slipping. Seeing me with a gun to my head pushed him off the edge. He was free-falling. And now with Walden’s gun taking its place, Creighton was almost to the bottom where he was determined to set everyone on fire if it meant that I’d be the only one to get out alive.
“Creighton,” I whispered now. “Stop.”
His eyes flashed, ominously dark. His face hardened.
He had lifted his mask. He was letting everyone see the real him, and I cursed under my breath because I didn’t know what he was going to do.
He switched direction, and his gun was placed next to Tristian West’s head.
Right behind the ear. He said back, in a monotone, “Put your gun down, Walden.”
Ashton sucked in some air, fury raining from him. Wave after wave of it. He growled, a short savage sound, before he yanked me against his chest, and repositioned himself so he could comfortably hold the gun against me.
I closed my eyes, saying a prayer, because he messed up in doing that movement. Walden didn’t know it. West didn’t know it. I knew it. Levi knew it. Lassiter knew it. And Creighton knew it. Because I was trained to get out of holds like this. It was extremely easy to do.
It was all down to me.
I held still and opened my eyes, meeting Creighton’s. He was waiting, expecting me to slip out, and that’s when he would shoot Walden.
I stayed.
He raised an eyebrow. “Quokka.”
I shook my head. My voice came out soft. “No.”
“Blake.” His held a command.
“No.” My chin lifted. “We’re going to stand here, and we’re going to talk this out.”
“He has a gun to your head.”
“You have one to his friend.”
“Not the same.”
“How is it not?”
Creighton’s eyes flashed, but somehow they looked even more dead. Like a demon’s. “Because I don’t give one fuck about him.”
I wet my lips. My throat was so dry. Desertlike dry. When was the last time I had any water in my system? I had coffee this morning and alcohol last night. Water during one of our sex breaks. I almost started laughing at the oddity of that thought. “They said you took some of their people.”
He didn’t reply. Which was a response in itself.
My chest lifted. “You and I made a deal.”
“We’ve made a lot of deals.”
My eyes flashed. “There’s a specific one I’m talking about.”
He didn’t respond.
I growled. “You know which one I’m talking about.”
He edged out, “That was after.”
“Are they alive?”
He kept quiet.
Lassiter broke out, “They’re alive.” He jerked forward, ignoring Creighton’s warning look. Lassiter raised his hands in the air, his knife still tucked against his palm. “They’re unharmed, and they’re close.”
“Last.” Creighton promised so many ways to die in that one word. “Shut up.”
Lassiter’s eyes flickered, his hands began to lower, but he looked up at me, stared, went to Levi, and lastly, his gaze fell to Spence’s body.
His hands lowered all the way after that, as did his shoulders.
His head too. “You might not believe this, Creight, but I am doing this for you.” He raised his head once again and moved to face him.
“They will kill her. You took family members of theirs. Look at them. They’re ready to die if it means bringing those family members back to their women.
Blake is everything to you, but she’s just a weapon to use in their arsenal against you.
She dies, everyone dies. That part, they don’t get, but I do.
I know what you’ll do, and you won’t care about Levi or me.
I love you too, you know. That’s why I’m doing this.
” He abruptly turned and spoke, “They’re in a vehicle one block over—”
Creighton’s eyes flared, and he moved his gun, aiming it at Lassiter.
I ceased breathing. “Eight, No!”
Everything happened so fast.
Creighton pulled the trigger, but Tristian West knocked him to the side. His shot went wide. Lassiter’s eyes got big, paling at the significance of what Creighton almost did.
I lunged forward.
Walden released me.
I darted forward, had the forethought to slam the jail cell closed behind me, locking Walden and his guard inside. There was a thud from inside, and as I glanced back, out of the corner of my eye, a body had fallen to the ground from inside.
Levi was also on the ground, grimacing in pain.
But I was across the room, and as Lassiter shook his head, clearing it, he moved to intercept the other three guards that were three steps away from us.
Creighton and West were fighting, and not sure what to do, Lassiter yelled at me, “Guards, Blake.”
Right.
A gun was on the ground. I swept it up and aimed at one of West’s guards. Lassiter cursed, let his knife drop, and pulled out two guns from his back. We stood shoulder to shoulder, our three guns stopping the guards from getting any closer.
Walden had a gun, but I was hoping he wouldn’t risk a shot into our circle. He could shoot his best friend.
There were three distinct thuds before it quieted behind us.
Then, a gentle hand touched my waist, pulling me against him, and once I was there, my arm faltered.
The gun dropped—I was hoping the safety was still on, but I ceased caring.
I turned around and molded myself against Creighton’s chest. His arms wrapped around me.
His head went to my neck, and he held me as we were both shaking.
And Lassiter stood there, guarding us.
I tipped my head, trying to relay something to him, but he shook his head. Once. Briskly and firmly. I saw the flash of hurt before he masked it. Creighton betrayed him. That was going to take time to undo, if it ever would, but—I was done thinking.
I glanced in Levi’s direction. He was still lying on his side, his head resting on the ground, but he was watching us with his one eye open. Seeing we were okay, relief flared, mixed with pain, and I saw it happen, where he gave himself permission to succumb. He passed out.
Walden grated out, “Lane.”
Creighton tensed before lifting his head.
I didn’t look. I didn’t care anymore.
Walden’s voice was strained. “I already made a call. Our people are collected.”
A fleet of vehicles were heard then, brakes squealing, as it seemed they surrounded the warehouse. Car door after car door opened and slammed shut. I tensed, except when the doors opened and they flooded inside, I knew we’d be fine. Finally. Creighton’s army had arrived.
Walden cursed, but Creighton was speaking, “Let them go.”
I lifted my head enough to say, “Marshall was shot. Walden’s men took him outside. He might be . . .” I couldn’t finish that thought.
Creighton gave a nod, and motioned for his men, telling them to go and look for Marshall.
He was found, and sped off to the nearest hospital.
Levi was helped next.
Palma and Heath were taken out after him.
We stayed in place as the other cell was opened.
I buried my head back into Creighton’s chest, but heard scuffling. Walden’s voice spoke up, coming to my right. Passing my right. “We have our people. You have yours. We can keep going, or we can meet at the table. I’ll let you and your woman make that decision.”
“Wait.” I looked up. He and his guard were carrying Tristian West, who was alive but unconscious. Walden paused.
I asked, “Who did he take?”
Walden’s eyebrows pinched together, confused for a moment.
I clarified, “Of your people, who did Creighton take? Who were they to your woman?”
His face cleared, and his eyes grew haunted.
“To my woman? Two of her best friends. Molly considers them family. They were there for her when no one was.” His eyes fell to his best friend.
“And his woman? Her literal family. Her mom and brother.” He looked as if he were going to say something more, but thought better of it.
His mouth flattened into a line, and he met Creighton’s eyes briefly before his own face turned into stone.
They carried his best friend out.