Chapter 18
EIGHTEEN
It hurt to breathe. Her body shook as Dawson gently pushed her behind him, positioning Peyton between a brick wall and his solid form.
The math was brutal. Five bikes. At least seven men.
Her heart raced, and she kept a hand clamped over the wound.
Blood trailed down her skin. It was impossible to know how badly she was hurt, but the pain was enough to cloud her vision.
She couldn’t shoot straight even if she tried.
Dawson, wisely, kept his gun ready, but at his side. A shootout in this alley would end badly for them.
The engines cut out one by one. Silence pressed in, somehow worse than the noise. Boots scraped against the pavement as the riders dismounted.
Then a familiar voice echoed off the brick walls.
“Princess Peyton.” Cade stepped through the line of his men, hands in his pockets, as unhurried as if he were strolling through his own bar. His dark eyes found hers over Dawson's shoulder, and that predatory smile spread across his face. “We meet again.”
Anger flared, hot enough to momentarily cut through the pain. Peyton sidestepped Dawson and jutted up her chin. “Are you following me, Cade?”
“I’m protecting you. You never know what bad things can happen in back alleys.”
He jerked his chin, and within seconds, Peyton and Dawson were grabbed.
She cried out as rough hands disarmed her before searching her pockets.
Someone removed her cell phone and her backup weapon.
The roaring in her ears blocked out the sound of Dawson calling her name.
One of Cade’s men punched him in the stomach, and he doubled over.
“Stop!” Peyton struggled against the hands that held her.
Her purse strap broke, and the contents tumbled onto the cement.
Ricky bent down and sifted through items before shoving his thick fingers into every compartment.
The spider tattoo on his neck swam as dark spots clouded the edge of her vision. Peyton feared she’d throw up.
Ricky threw down her bag. “They don’t have it, boss.”
Dawson struggled to his feet, only to be grabbed and held back.
His expression was thunderous, his breathing shallow.
Blood trickled from a cut on his lip. Peyton belatedly realized he’d taken more than one hit.
Fear—not for herself, but for Dawson—nearly buckled her knees.
If Cade perceived Dawson as a threat, he wouldn't hesitate to kill him.
She needed to keep Cade's attention on her. All of it.
“You’re going down, Cade.” Dawson’s voice rang out with authority. “If it’s the last thing I do, I’m gonna put you behind bars.”
Cade ignored him, his attention locked on Peyton. “We need to talk.” He spun on his heel and moved a short distance away.
The hands holding Peyton in place released her. She briefly met Dawson’s gaze, silently willing him to simmer down. They needed to focus on getting out of this alive.
And then she would help Dawson snap the handcuffs on Cade’s wrists herself.
Limping slightly, doing her best to ignore the fiery agony in her side, she joined Cade near the rusted carcass of an overturned shopping cart. Putting a touch of amusement into her voice, she said, “If you wanted to talk, all you had to do was call.”
Cade’s expression remained flat. “You and I share a common interest.”
Peyton didn’t believe for a second that he was talking about her cousin. “You mean Grace.”
“Yes.” His attention darted to the men guarding Dawson, and his mouth tightened. “Someone is trying to bury me.”
“That’s what happens when you’re a criminal.”
He sneered. “Don’t be cute. My enemies are looking for Lilia and the evidence she stole. They want to use it against me, and they’ll kill anyone standing in their way. You.” His head jerked toward Dawson. “That idiot over there. Even Grace, if they think it’ll destroy me.”
Peyton raised her brows. “You expect me to believe that you care about what happens to Grace.”
“She’s my child.” The words were spoken matter-of-factly. Bluntly. As if it were obvious that a cold-blooded killer would move heaven and earth to protect his daughter. Cade stared at Peyton. “You may not like me, but you can count on this. I’ll do what’s necessary to protect what’s mine.”
The raw possessiveness in his voice made her sick. Grace was a human being, not something to be owned and controlled. And yet, a part of Peyton recognized that for him, this was as close to expressing love as Cade would probably ever get.
Her brain was getting muddled and fuzzy. The blood soaking her shirt was turning cold, and goosebumps broke out across her skin. “What do you want?”
“Lose your bodyguard and bring Grace to Sidewinders where I can protect you both.”
Her gaze narrowed. “How can you do that? Rumor has it someone inside your own gang is trying to take you down.” She got into his space. “I know about Marvis.”
“I’m handling it.”
“Then Grace would already be safe.” Peyton wanted out of this situation alive, but she also sensed that if she was too conciliatory, Cade’s paranoia would take over.
It was a fine line to walk, but it was still there.
“You don’t want to protect Grace. You want to use her and me to flush Lilia out so she’ll give you the evidence.
But guess what? I protect what’s mine too, and I won’t be used as a tool to hurt her. So let’s work out a deal.”
He grabbed her arm. She nearly screamed when pain erupted from her wound as he yanked her toward him. Cade got into her face, his nose nearly touching hers. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t shoot you right here?”
The anger in his eyes iced her to the core, but Peyton refused to look away. “Because I’m the best chance you have of finding what Lilia stole. And we both know that’s really what you want.”
He chuckled. His grip on her arm tightened. “And you’ll give it to me? Just like that?”
She nodded. “In exchange for your promise that you won’t hurt Grace, Lilia, or anyone else I care about.”
It was a calculated risk. She had no intention of actually following through, but Cade couldn’t know that. Otherwise, he might shoot them right here and be done with it.
His fingers pressed into her flesh, practically rubbing against the bone.
She held his gaze, not letting an ounce of pain or fear flicker across her expression.
As a poker player, Cade was used to reading other people’s bluffs.
If this was going to work, she had to sell it. Not with words. With confidence.
He countered her silent challenge with his own, whipping out his gun and holding it to her throat. “If you’re lying to me, I will kill you.”
“I know.”
Ricky edged forward. “Easy, boss. They’re cops, and we’ve got enough problems to deal with.”
Cade’s gaze never flickered to his subordinate. Instead, he pushed Peyton away, finally releasing her arm. Before she could find her footing, his hand collided with her cheekbone. Stars exploded in her vision. She collapsed to the ground in a bone-jarring heap that ripped a scream from her throat.
Above her, barely visible through the haze of pain, Cade smirked. Then he waved a hand. “Load up!”
Movement out of the corner of her eye preceded a clatter against the asphalt.
Her cell phone and guns. Seconds later, the motorcycle engines fired.
Peyton could barely hear them through the dull roaring of pain in her ears.
Dawson’s face swam in front of her. She tried to speak, to explain her side was bleeding badly, but the words wouldn’t come.
The stars in her vision grew bigger, darker.
And as she slipped into the darkness, all she could think was that she’d done it.
She’d protected Dawson.
It worked. He’s safe.