Chapter One
Tessa
I awoke gasping, trying to get my breath. The sheets were twisted around my legs. My heart pounded and sweat dampened my skin and my pillow. I couldn’t remember the dream, but I thought there’d been some kind of explosion…
Then the sound came again. This time, I was decidedly awake.
The building shuddered hard enough to jostle me as I lay in bed.
Another heavy thud sounded like something slamming into the lower level of Haven with significant force.
My apartment was on the third floor and sat directly over the front entrance to Haven.
I’d requested the room when I’d found it because I wanted to see shit coming at me before it got me.
My water glass rattled off the nightstand and shattered on the hardwood. The chime of the alarm kicked in a half-second later. Safety lights flooded the doorways.
I bolted from the bed, trying to get my bearings… and promptly tripped on my shoes and fell to the floor with a jarring thud.
After taking a deep breath and shaking my head to clear it of sleep, I shoved my feet into my shoes, snagged a sweater to go over my pajamas, and ran for the door. The security lights lining the hallway gave off a soft glow. I looked down the hall as another door opened and a woman stepped out.
“What is that?” she asked. “What’s happening?” I saw the same fear in her eyes I felt in my chest.
Before I could answer, heavy boots pounded up the stairwell from the other end of the hall.
Three men from Kiss of Death hurried in our direction.
The one in front, a guy named Tiny, who was built like a refrigerator with a shaved head and a beard that reached his chest, beckoned us in his direction.
“Safe room,” he barked. “Now. Everyone to the safe room.”
Two more doors opened. Another woman with a baby clutched to her chest and a teenage girl who’d come alone to Haven. We all stood frozen for a moment, still slightly stunned.
The building shuddered again. Somewhere below us, metal screamed against metal, the impact worse this time…
Silence…
The world exploded in a deafening boom and a shower of glass and debris. The concussion tossed me down the hall and knocked the breath out of me. My ears rang and everything seemed to come from deep inside a well.
“Move!” Tiny picked up a kid in each arm as he yelled. Each man with Tiny helped one of the women. Through the smoke and dust, I didn’t recognize the man who came to help me, but I waved him off anyway.
“Help the children. I’m good. I’m good.”
I rolled onto my side and pushed myself up on one elbow. My head swam. Something warm trickled down my temple. When I wiped at it, my fingers came away red. The cut was shallow, but blood had already matted my hair above my ear. The hallway was thick with dust and a sharp, acrid, biting scent.
The teenage girl from down the hall appeared through the dust cloud, her face streaked with tears. She grabbed my arm. “Which way?”
I pointed down the hall. “That way. Follow Tiny.”
She didn’t move. “I can’t -- I don’t --”
“Go,” I said, giving her a gentle shove. “Tiny will keep you safe. Run. Now.”
She nodded, then turned and obeyed. The woman with the baby was already gone, carried by one of the MC guys. The third woman from my floor was nowhere in sight but the one thing I knew about these guys was they’d make sure everyone got to safety.
The building groaned. Not an explosion, but another impact from below sent a vibration through the floor that I felt in my teeth. More glass shattered somewhere.
I’d made it to the first floor and moved toward the safe room but paused when I heard terrified sobbing.
I stopped, listening for the sound again.
It was hard to get a direction because of the ringing in my ears from the blast. The farther toward the common room I went, the louder the crying.
My shoes crunched on the broken glass in the hallway with each step as I made my way to the back of the room.
The furniture had been tossed around like toys and debris littered the area with dust still floating in the air. The large window at the far end was now a jagged hole letting in the gray light of morning.
A woman sat on the floor beside the overturned couch and table, her back against the wall, knees drawn to her chest. She was older than me, maybe thirty, with dark hair pulled into a messy ponytail.
She wore flannel pajamas and no shoes. Her face was buried in her hands, and her shoulders shook with each sob.
I crossed the room and knelt beside her. Up close, I could see a dark bruise forming along her jawline, fresh enough that the skin was still swelling.
“Hey,” I said softly. “Where else are you hurt?”
She didn’t look up. Her fingers dug into her hair. “I can’t,” she whispered. “He’s coming. He’ll find me here.”
“No one’s coming in,” I said. “The club’s got the building locked down. We’ll be safe in the special room they built for us. Remember?”
She shook her head. “You don’t know him. He said he’d find me. He said he’d kill me if I ran.”
I reached for her hand, gently prying her fingers from her hair. Her skin was ice-cold. “What’s your name?”
She looked up then. Her eyes were red and swollen, the left one nearly shut from the bruising. “M-Melanie.”
“I’m Tessa. Melanie. You know these guys will stand between you and anyone trying to get you here. Right?” I thought I might do well to take my own advice.
Another impact shook the building. Melanie flinched hard and curled tighter into herself. “He’s here,” she whispered. “Oh God, he’s here.”
I put my arm around her shoulders. “Then let’s not be here when he arrives. Let’s put some very strong, locked doors between us and him. Yeah?”
Down the hall, something heavy hit the floor. A door, maybe, or a piece of furniture. Then a man’s voice, shouting orders I couldn’t make out. Boots on hardwood, moving fast.
Melanie’s breathing stopped. Her eyes fixed on the doorway.
I tightened my grip on her shoulder. “Melanie. Look at me.”
She didn’t.
“Melanie.” I put my hand on her cheek, turning her face toward mine. Her skin was clammy. “Whatever happens, you’re not alone. I’m right here. I’m not leaving you. But we need to move. Now.”
The boots were closer. Two sets, maybe three. Moving with purpose. I didn’t know if those were men from Kiss of Death or with whoever attacked Haven from outside, but I didn’t want to take any chances.
Melanie’s eyes found mine. She took a shuddering breath, weighing the shitty options before her. Then she nodded her head. “OK,” she whispered. “OK.”
I helped her to her feet. She swayed, unsteady, and leaned her slight weight against me.
I put my arm around her waist and guided her toward the door, away from the sound of approaching boots, toward the safe room at the far end of the hall.
We didn’t make it far before another deafening blast knocked us to the floor.
The world went white and my ears -- which still rang slightly -- took another beating and I had the inane thought that I’d never be able to hear properly again.
Something hot grazed my arm. What was left of a service door on the outer wall now hung from twisted hinges, a jagged hole where the lock had been.
The frame around it had buckled inward, taking chunks of drywall with it.
Smoke poured through the opening. Thick, chemical, nothing like fire smoke. Tear gas, maybe, or some kind of flash-bang residue. It burned my eyes and throat instantly. I coughed hard and my vision blurred with tears from the irritation.
Melanie was under me. I’d landed half on top of her when the blast hit. She wasn’t moving. I shook her shoulder as panic hit me in full force. The calm I’d tried so hard to surround myself with shattered. I knew if she didn’t open her eyes, I’d lose my Goddamned mind.
“Melanie! Melanie, come on!”
Her eyes fluttered open. She stared at me without recognition for a second, then panic flooded back into her expression. She started to scramble away from me, toward the overturned couch.
I grabbed her ankle. “No. Stay down.”
The gunfire started before I finished the sentence.
Three rapid shots from somewhere beyond the ruined door, so close the sound was physical.
Something hit the wall above our heads and plaster dust rained down.
Then return fire. Deeper, heavier reports from multiple weapons.
The Kiss of Death guys, engaging to protect their territory and us. I hoped.
Through the smoke, I could see hazy shapes moving in the open. Dark figures pushing through the doorway, met immediately by return fire. One figure dropped. Another retreated. The third kept coming, firing wildly into the room.
I pressed Melanie flat against the floor behind the overturned couch and put one hand on the back of her head. “Don’t move,” I whispered. “Don’t make a sound.”
She was trembling so hard I could feel it through my other palm where it rested heavily on her back.
The gunfire continued in short, controlled bursts. Then sudden, erratic sprays. Bullets punched through drywall, thudded into furniture. A lamp exploded. Melanie and I both whimpered but managed to bite back screams as we covered our heads.
I risked a look around the side edge of the couch. The common area had become a killing field. Smoke hung in drifting layers, lit from beneath by muzzle flashes. I had no idea who was who. I just didn’t want to get caught in the crossfire.
I looked back behind us and saw Pippa with several more women and children headed to the safe room. They’d come from a different direction and the only way for them to get inside the safe room put them directly in the line of fire.
A massive shape barreled through the smoke from the right. Gunnar charged between the women and the fighting, planting himself between Pippa and the doorway. He raised his weapon and fired twice into the smoke, then turned, reaching for Pippa with his free hand.
“Get inside --” he started.
The doorway exploded again.