Chapter 22
Ophelia
“Enter Sandman-Metallica”
Two days later…
I’m sprawled across the couch at the warehouse waiting for Bianca to finish whatever dramatic phone call she’s currently whisper-yelling through when my phone buzzes in my hand. I glance down and groan immediately.
Reid.
A literal thorn shoved permanently into my ass.
Ever since the disaster with Tracy and the school fight, my life somehow became even more chaotic. Which honestly feels impressive at this point.
After Brayden dragged me away from the school that day, things spiraled fast. I was still riding the adrenaline high from beating the absolute shit out of Tracy. Angry. Emotional and reckless.
Brayden started kissing me and, for one stupid second, I let myself get carried away because I wanted to feel something besides Hayden consuming every inch of my brain.
Then… the rumble of the bike. The car door ripped open.
And there stood Reid, looking homicidal.
At first, I genuinely thought Hayden found us. But no.
It was somehow worse.
Reid practically dragged me out of Brayden's car by my arm before nearly beating the shit out of him right there in the parking lot for touching me. Like I was five years old instead of being fully capable of making my own horrible decisions.
The lecture afterward? Absolutely unbearable.
“You can’t trust rich boys.”
“You need to be smarter.”
“You’re acting reckless.”
Blah, blah, fucking blah.
Meanwhile, Brayden sat there furious and confused, demanding to know who the hell Reid even was and why he cared so much about me.
Which meant I had to lie. Again.
I swear my entire life is just one giant pile of secrets stacked on top of other secrets waiting to collapse.
So I told Brayden that Reid was basically family. My overprotective uncle figure who stepped in after my mother abandoned me. And somehow… Brayden bought it.
I honestly don’t know if he’s stupid or if he just wanted an explanation badly enough to accept whatever I gave him.
Either way it worked.
I did have to beg him not to mention this shit to my father, though. Thankfully, he hasn’t yet. God help me if my father ever finds out about the warehouse, the races, or literally anything involving Reid and the others.
I’d probably wake up locked inside Brimstone House.
My phone buzzes again. Reid never texts just to chat. There’s always some bullshit attached to it.
Taking a deep breath, I unlock my phone, already bracing myself for whatever fresh hell is about to ruin my night.
Reid:
I need a run handled. All of you armed. Leave in ten.
My stomach twists instantly. Because Reid never says armed unless he expects blood.
Stone reads the message over my shoulder and whistles. “That’s comforting.”
“What is?” B asks, and I take a deep breath then show her the text. “At least wear something cute if we’re dying tonight,” she says as she grabs her knives from the table.
Asher snorts while shoving bullets into a magazine. “You say that every time.”
“And every time I look hot.”
Honestly? She’s not wrong.
We all leave the warehouse and pile into an unmarked SUV. The ride starts intense but quickly dissolves into Chaos, because apparently none of us can behave like normal people for more than seven consecutive minutes.
Stone drives while Asher rides shotgun and B controls the music from next to me. Which is basically psychological warfare. Asher twists around in the passenger seat smirking at me.
“So…”
“No.”
“You don’t even know what I’m gonna say,” he says, and I roll my eyes.
“It’s about Hayden.”
Stone immediately starts laughing. “Bathroom incident?”
Heat floods my face instantly. “I hate all of you.”
B nearly chokes on her drink laughing. “Girl looked ready to climb that man like a tree when she walked out of that school pissed the hell off.”
“He’s an asshole.”
“A hot asshole,” Stone corrects, and I glare murderously out the window, because they aren’t wrong. Hayden left me panting in that bathroom like some desperate girl in a romance movie before walking away with that stupid smug grin on his face. And the worst part? He knew exactly what he was doing.
“That boy owns your soul,” Asher says dramatically.
“He absolutely does not,” I lie, and Stone snorts.
“O, you literally look homicidal every time another girl breathes near him.”
“Okay, but to be fair,” B cuts in. “He does the exact same thing.”
Facts. Unfortunately.
My phone stays silent the entire drive. No text from Hayden. No stupid cocky messages. Nothing and, for some reason, that hurts more than it should.
The meetup spot is at an abandoned shipping yard near the docks. Dark and empty.
Massive rusted containers tower around us like metal graves blocking out half the moonlight while the smell of saltwater, gasoline, and decay clings heavy in the cold night air. Somewhere nearby, water crashes violently against the docks beneath us.
Every instinct in my body screams danger the second we pull in.
“You feel that?” I mutter quietly while climbing out of the SUV.
Stone shuts the driver side door slower this time, eyes already scanning shadows. “Yeah.”
Too quiet. Way too fucking quiet.
No music. No engines. No voices waiting for the shipment exchange. Just silence. The kind that gets people killed.
Bianca checks the safety on her gun beside me. “I hate this already.”
“As long as you shoot straight, Babygirl,” Asher mutters while pulling an AK from the trunk.
“Eat my ass.”
“Cough, Stone’s job. Cough,” Asher fires back, and my eyes widen while trying to hide my smirk.
Stone ignores both of them, tension hardening his entire body. “Get the cash and move fast. If this feels wrong, we bail.”
“It already feels wrong. What more do you need?” I say. This is supposed to be simple. Quick cash grab and we out.
We move carefully between shipping containers toward the designated drop point. Gravel crunches beneath our boots while the wind whistles through the metal corridors around us, sounding almost human.
Something just doesn’t feel right and I hate it. Every second of this.
“Where the fuck are they?” Bianca mutters.
Then I hear it. A click. Tiny. Metallic.
Behind us.
“Stone—”
The first gunshot explodes through the yard before I can finish speaking. Chaos detonates instantly.
“DOWN!” Stone roars as bullets ricochet off metal around us, showering sparks through the darkness while shadows emerge from every direction armed to the fucking teeth. Ambush. Fuck!
I dive behind a container just as another bullet screams past my head, close enough I physically feel the heat from it.
Metal erupts beside my face, causing my ears to ring instantly.
My pulse pounds violently while Bianca drops beside me already firing back and cursing like a sailor. “This is why I hate teamwork!”
Three men rush us from the left side corridor. Asher appears out of nowhere, dropping the attackers with brutal efficiency. One drops instantly. Another stumbles backward clutching his throat while blood sprays between his fingers.
The third keeps coming anyway. Jesus Christ.
Stone meets him head-on before slamming the guy into a container hard enough to dent the fucking metal. Bones crack loudly when he drives his elbow into the attacker’s face.
More gunfire erupts. Way too many. We’re outnumbered so badly.
“MOVE!” Asher yells, grabbing my arm, yanking me across the loading yard while bullets shred through crates beside us.
Everything becomes noise and violence.
Men screaming. Metal clanging. Gunfire echoing endlessly through the maze of containers.
Somebody’s truck suddenly explodes near the docks, sending flames roaring into the night sky. Heat slams against my skin while smoke curls thick through the yard.
“We’re pinned!” Bianca screams.
“No shit!”
Stone tackles another attacker straight into the pavement before smashing the guy’s skull repeatedly against the concrete with terrifying force. Blood streaks across the ground beneath them.
Then another shot cracks through the yard, and Stone jerks violently.
“No!” Bianca screams.
Time slows as blood spreads through his shirt while he collapses hard behind a forklift gripping his side.
My stomach flips.
“STONE!”
“I’m fine,” he snarls through gritted teeth. .
He is very obviously not fine. He’s bleeding everywhere.
Another barrage of shots slam into the forklift, forcing Bianca to crouch lower beside him while returning fire wildly.
“WE NEED TO GO!” Asher shouts.
I start toward Stone anyway, because leaving isn’t an option.
Then suddenly, arms wrap around me from behind. Panic detonates instantly.
A masked man slams me hard against the side of a shipping container. Pain explodes through my shoulder so roughly stars burst across my vision. I elbow backward hard enough to break his nose but he slams me into the wall again.
“You little bitch—” he spits, dragging me backward.
Cold metal presses against the side of my head. The metallic click of the gun sounds deafening.
Oh God. I’m going to die.
Hayden’s face flashes violently through my mind.
His laugh. His hands. His voice whispering ‘Firefly’ against my skin.
No! No!
Then pure survival instincts take over.
I yank the knife from my boot and stab upward blindly with every ounce of strength I have. The blade sinks deep.
Warm blood sprays wildly across my hand and neck while the man chokes wetly behind me. His grip loosens instantly and I stab him again. And again. Until he collapses at my feet, twitching.
Holy shit.
My breathing turns ragged immediately while the world spins around me. I almost died.
The realization crashes into me so hard nausea climbs instantly up my throat. My hands shake uncontrollably as I stare down at the blood covering them.
I killed him.
Not like training. Real.
Another gunshot cracks nearby, snapping me back into the nightmare around us.
“OPHELIA, MOVE YOUR FUCKING ASS!” Asher screams.
Bianca drags Stone toward the SUV while he leaves a trail of blood behind him. His face has gone pale. Too pale.