11. Warner
CHAPTER 11
WARNER
ON & ON – PLTS
Blending into the frenetic crowd, I subtly weave through idiots waving their drinks high. Typical criminals, brazenly hiding in plain sight. I didn’t even have to bribe a guard or lookout to let us in.
My more logical side realises this is likely a trap. There’s no way I would be within touching distance of Blaine Madden or his crew unless he wanted it so. Not after we had him thrown in prison.
He’s back for a reason.
And somehow, Ember’s embroiled in it.
Searching the crowd for any signs of brilliant red hair, I’m not paying attention to the fight preparing to begin at the centre of the baying crowd. I have no idea why she came here tonight.
“Anything?” Hyland’s voice growls in my ear.
“Not yet.”
His curse vibrates through my concealed earpiece. “What the hell is she thinking?”
“She isn’t.”
“If I hadn’t checked her fucking tracker…”
Anger bleeding from his tone, he doesn’t finish the sentence. Admittedly, using the standard-issue tracking software that we had added to Ember’s phone is bending several of my morals.
However, our disregard for her privacy came in handy tonight. Without it, Hyland never would’ve realised that she’d slipped away, a fact he shared with us when he walked into our penthouse and promptly exploded.
“You check that thing often?” I prod.
“It’s my job to keep her safe.”
“Uh-huh.”
“What does that mean?” Hyland snaps.
“Nothing.”
Speaking of a lack of boundaries, he epitomises that exact red flag. I told him to head up Ember’s security knowing full well that he’d protect her with his life.
The ways in which he achieves that can be eyebrow-raising at times. Of course, Hyland doesn’t see it that way. But this isn’t the first time he’s gone above and beyond when protecting a client.
After all the shit he’s been through, he developed an obsession for safety. Those harrowing memories have intensified his protective instincts to a new level of crazy.
“Oh, shit!” Someone next to me jerks. “She just went for him!”
“Is that allowed?”
“Hell if I know.”
Brushing off my shoulder where the idiot shoved into me in his excitement, I peer through the crowd to make out the fight. I’ve investigated far too many of these seedy places to feel at ease.
A swinging, auburn ponytail causes alarm to slice into me. I hurriedly push through two more people, uncaring about subtlety. I’m too busy praying my eyes are playing tricks on me.
“Oh, fucking hell.”
“What?” Hyland yells in my ear. “What is it?”
No wonder I couldn’t find Ember in this turbulent crowd. She’s in the middle of the circle, bouncing around like a live wire against some gnarly-looking guy with no bloody shirt on.
“She’s fighting.”
“Tell me you’re kidding,” he huffs out.
“Wish I was.”
“What the actual fuck?”
My concern increases tenfold when the circling pair swap sides, both narrowly dodging the other. I get a glimpse of her opponent’s face. Blinking several times doesn’t reveal a different scene.
Blaine motherfucking Madden.
I must be tripping. Not only is that scheming snake in the country, and in my fucking city no less, but he’s eyeing my best friend’s little sister up like a meal he wants to devour.
“Madden is here.”
“Blaine Madden?” Hyland repeats. “How?”
“He’s up against Ember.”
Several seconds of astonished silence follow.
“You copy?” I check under my breath.
“Yeah. Copy.”
“There must be sixty odd people in here. Presumably some work for him.” I cough into my hand to cover my words. “Even if you joined me, we’d still be severely outnumbered.”
“Shit! Has she lost her mind?”
Unfortunately for us, Ember looks perfectly sane bouncing into Madden’s personal space to jab at his midsection. The asshole lets her take a shot, a grin slicked across his face.
With Ember’s strike levied, he shoves her left shoulder hard. She skates backwards, her running shoes scratching against blood-splattered concrete. It throws her off-balance.
“Come on, Em,” I plead.
“Tell me what’s happening.”
“He’s pushing her around.”
“I’ll kill him with my bare hands,” Hyland snarls in a menacing tone. “Fuck prison. He’ll be six feet under this time. Bones ripped apart and buried in pieces.”
“As much as I agree with you, we need to play this smart. Get her out of here then deal with Madden once and for all.”
“Yeah,” he agrees, though his tone drips with reluctance. “I suppose so.”
With Madden stalking towards her like a hungry lion set on devouring its prey, Ember seems to be outgunned. She’s fast, but he has brute strength on his side.
Yet as he nears with his fists raised and a warehouse full of supporters cheering him on, something visibly changes in Ember’s stance. Her back lengthens, red head thrown back and chin jerked upright in breathtaking defiance.
Hidden among the very criminals I’ve built a career hunting down, I watch Ember transform. Up until now, I’ve seen the cheeky little kid I grew up with when I looked at her. The sassy astronaut who always demanded my attention.
Hanging out at Tom’s place was far better than returning home to divorcing parents tearing each other to shreds on a daily basis. Their home became my safe haven.
That brazen young girl quickly grew up, developing supple curves, shapely legs and lips so full they enticed me with each sassy barb she landed. It became a full-time job not to pay attention to every way her gorgeous body beckoned.
Watching her advance, ducking his wide swing to land a direct hit to his abdomen, I get my first glimpse of the new Ember. The one who survived six years working for the goddamn cartel and lived to tell the tale.
“Shit.”
“Talk to me,” Hyland pleads urgently. “Is Ember okay?”
“She’s going for him.”
“Fuck! Stop her!”
“I can’t do anything.”
Ember’s enraged eyes narrow into slits, her lips mashing together and limbs tensing. She dodges two of Madden’s strikes while landing her own shallow blows.
Seeing that man attempting to hit her boils my blood. I dismantled his entire operation once before. This time, I’ll shred it down to the last fucking atom and bury him alive beneath the rubble.
But Ember isn’t giving him the chance to take her down. She holds her own with practiced ease, dodging each strike and pivoting around him like they’re waltzing rather than fighting.
This person isn’t the girl I know anymore. She isn’t even the battle-hardened survivor I’ve become familiar with in recent weeks. I’m seeing 768—the asset who survived unthinkable violence she can barely speak about.
“She’s good, but she’ll never beat the Phantom,” a tattooed woman whispers on my left. “Who would dare?”
“I don’t recognise her.” The man standing next to her snickers. “Maybe she doesn’t care about showing him up.”
“Come on! Everyone knows who he is.”
Unfortunately, we do.
The Phantom is exactly that—a ghost.
When Madden manages to sweep her feet and send her plummeting to the ground, I almost break cover. Even if it’ll rain down the wrath of his organisation on my head.
How dare he touch her?
Ember lands heavily, but she braces her bent arms behind herself and flips up onto her feet before Madden can revel in the applause. Several gasps sound out all around me.
No one has time to take in the rapidly shifting power play. She’s on him in an instant, landing two firm punches to his gut before following them up with a perfect roundhouse kick.
Madden stumbles backwards, absorbing the kick with that smirk still plastered over his face. The son of a bitch isn’t just performing for the crowd, he’s actually enjoying this.
Hell, it looks like Ember is too.
They’re two flames dancing in each other’s orbit.
“As much as I agree with you, we need to play this smart. Get her out of here then deal with Madden once and for all.”
His loud exhale whooshes through my ear, his annoyance undeniable. “Be careful.”
Darting forward, Ember wipes the smirk from his face with another powerful punch, this time to the jaw. Madden’s head snaps sideways, a globule of saliva tearing from his lips.
“Go on!” I urge under my breath. “That’s my girl.”
“Are you… enjoying this?” Hyland mutters disbelievingly.
“You should see her. She’s talented.”
“I don’t want to see her getting beaten up! Fuck!”
Another skilful kick lands Madden flat on his ass. The crowd can’t seem to decide whether they should be applauding or booing while watching the fight unfold.
I’ve seen the Phantom fight before on numerous occasions. Back when we were investigating his family for single handedly propping up London’s drugs trade, I infiltrated several of their shady clubs.
Their business model was clever. Hiding an illegal empire behind legitimate business ventures like bars, casinos and strip clubs, they concealed their misdeeds while drawing in a captive audience to purchase their wares.
Blaine Madden fought regularly at the street fights his father used to organise. I’ve seen him prance around bare-chested and bloodied more times than I can count while doing surveillance.
This isn’t his best.
Sure, Ember’s very good. Her skill and the ease with which she manipulates the fight is undeniable. But Madden is obviously thrown off by something.
The way he looks at her…
Beyond my relief at finding her safe and sound, I’ve maintained a professional distance. She’s my client first and foremost. But perhaps more importantly, she’s my best friend’s baby sister.
Now this motherfucker is looking at her like she’s his new favourite toy, and fuck if I don’t want to tear out his eyeballs with my bare hands, grind them into a paste and feed them back to him before I slit his throat.
Looming over Madden, Ember appears to whisper something to him. Despite blood dripping from his pierced lip, he’s lounging on the ground like he doesn’t have a care in the world.
Ember straightens like she’s about to walk away. At the last second, she twists her body around to deliver a final, bone-crunching strike that leaves Madden star-fished across the ground.
There’s no applause. It’s as though no one knows how to react as Ember wipes sweat from her forehead with her bare arm. The warehouse pulses with energy when Madden drags himself up.
He peers up at Ember, a trail of blood now dripping from his chin onto his heaving pecs. Concern intensifies in my chest at the long, loaded look silently shared between them.
Then he claps.
The Phantom fucking claps .
Cheers and applause form an ear-ringing cacophony all around me. Drinks sail through the air as toasts are exchanged at his apparent yielding. The yelling reaches an enthralled fever-pitch.
When Ember stretches out a hand to yank Madden up, I’m astonished to see that he takes it. Not only did he lose the fight, but now he’s publicly accepting her help.
“Warner?” Hyland rumbles in my ear.
“I’m here. She won.”
“Ember… won?”
“Damn near knocked him out too.”
“Ah, hell.” He sighs. “Get her out of there before that cheering turns to something else.”
“Copy. Be ready for a quick departure.”
While Ember steps out of the circle and farther into the warehouse, Madden lingers behind to speak to the referee. I move fast, dodging through the still-celebrating crowd to catch Ember before he follows.
She’s taking her jacket off a broad-shouldered thug when I get close enough to seize her elbow.
“We’re leaving.”
Startled, Ember turns her head towards me. “What the fu… Warner?”
“Right now. Move.”
“What are you doing here?”
I manage to pull her slightly away from the man eyeing me like a piece of meat he’d like to pummel.
“Bringing you home, obviously. We need to go.”
“No.” She yanks her elbow from my grip, visibly seething. “I’m here to speak to Blaine. I want to know why he saved me in Mexico and what he wants from us.”
“And you thought walking head-first into his territory, surrounded by his people, was a good idea?”
“Better than sitting at home like a prisoner and doing nothing!”
“You could’ve been killed tonight! Or even taken again!”
Ember scoffs, lips twisting in a sneer. “I can handle myself.”
“Against bought and paid for operatives looking to drag you back to Mexico? Trained professional killers? Or Madden’s insane crew?”
Throwing on her jacket, Ember’s neck and throat have flushed a deep shade of pink. I have a feeling I’m going to be on the receiving end of her wrath shortly.
“You won’t let me help. You won’t let me fight. I can’t even leave the house without an escort. What the fuck am I supposed to do?”
“Be safe!” I hiss back, checking to ensure no one is listening to us. “If you got taken again or worse… What do you think that would do to Tom? Or us? Or me?”
“Then give me the chance to fight back! Train me! Anything!”
Ember shoves my chest, stalking off towards the warehouse’s entrance. Relief blurs with my shock at her words. Axel suggested something similar a couple of weeks ago, but I didn’t pay much attention.
Is that what she wants?
I glance over my shoulder, a cold stab shooting through me when my eyes lock with Madden’s midnight spheres. That stare always unsettled me, full of calculation and criminal greed.
He’s still in the centre of the circle, surrounded by revellers. Madden pays them no attention. He clearly isn’t here for their praise.
Indignant determination fills his face. The kind of determination that tells me he isn’t going to surrender his new toy without a struggle. Lucky for him, I don’t mind a fight.
Though I’ll never admit it to anyone…
Ember’s always been mine to protect.