Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
Diane
I press myself against the rough brick wall, heart pounding so hard I can feel it in my throat. The alley stinks of garbage and piss, but it's the only cover I've found in the last hour of running. My legs burn, my lungs scream for air, but I don't dare take a deep breath.
They're close. Too close.
Three days. That's how long I've been in town, hiding in a cheap motel on the outskirts, trying to gather enough cash to run again. Three days of jumping at shadows, of sleeping in short bursts with a chair propped against the door.
I shouldn't have come here. I knew it was stupid, dangerous. But I needed money, and the only people I know with that kind of cash are here.
I need to get to Livie.
The irony isn't lost on me. After everything I put her through, after using her, lying to her, endangering her life—now she's my only hope. But Livie has always been too forgiving, too tenderhearted. If I can just explain, make her understand how desperate I am…
Footsteps echo at the end of the alley. Heavy, deliberate. Not the casual stride of a passerby.
They've found me.
I peer around the dumpster, my breath catching at the sight of two men in dark suits scanning the alley. They don't look like mob enforcers from the movies, no track suits or gold chains. They look like businessmen, which somehow makes them more terrifying.
I know what these men do to people who cross them. I've heard the recordings.
My only option is to make it to Devil Souls territory. Even these men won't risk starting a war with two motorcycle clubs just to get to me. If I can reach Livie, explain that I never meant for any of this to happen…
I duck low and sprint toward the opposite end of the alley, my feet silent on the wet pavement.
Just three more blocks to the edge of club territory.
Two more miles to Greyson Reed's house, where Livie has been staying. I googled him and found the address. It’s out of town, but I can make it. I have to.
"There!" The shout echoes behind me, followed by the pounding of dress shoes on concrete.
I run faster than I've ever run in my life, lungs burning, legs pumping. I cross one street, then another. The familiar landmarks of downtown coming into view. I'm close. So close.
I'm halfway down the block when a black SUV screeches to a halt in front of me. The door flies open and a man I don't recognize lunges out, grabbing me before I can change direction.
"No!" I thrash in his grip as he drags me toward the vehicle. "LIVIE! PLEASE!"
But the men are faster. The one holding me throws me into the back seat of the SUV, climbing in after me. The other men pile in, the doors slamming shut as the driver accelerates away from the curb.
"Diane Mercer." The man beside me speaks with a slight accent I can't place. His face is unremarkable, the kind you'd pass on the street without a second glance. "You've caused quite a lot of trouble."
I swallow hard, trying to control my trembling. "There's been a misunderstanding. I never meant—"
"Save it," he cuts me off. "Mr. Volkov doesn't care about your intentions. He cares about results. And the result of your actions is that several of his business associates are now under federal investigation, thanks to the material you distributed."
"I didn't distribute anything!" I protest, panic rising. "I just—I just wanted some money. I was going to keep it all quiet!"
"Blackmail is distribution of a kind," he replies calmly. "And now Mr. Volkov needs to understand exactly what you've shared, and with whom."
The SUV turns down a road leading out of town, away from any hope of rescue. I think frantically, trying to find a way out of this nightmare.
"It wasn't me," I blurt out, the lie forming before I can stop it. "It was Livie—Olivia Bennett. She's the one who found the recordings. She's the one who came up with the blackmail plan."
The man raises an eyebrow, clearly skeptical.
"It's true!" I press on, desperation making my voice high and thin.
"I just went along with it because she threatened me.
She has connections. Her father is Wilder Bennett, vice president of the Grim Sinners.
Her boyfriend is Greyson Reed. They're the ones who have been using the information to control territory! "
The men exchange glances, and I sense a shift in the atmosphere. They're listening now.
"Olivia Bennett," the man repeats, pulling out a phone. "Daughter of Wilder Bennett."
"Yes! She's the mastermind behind everything.
I was just the fall guy because no one would suspect her.
She's the one with all the recordings, all the evidence.
She made copies, stored them somewhere safe.
If anything happens to her, it all goes public.
" The lies flow easily now, fueled by terror.
"She's been using the information to expand club territory, pushing your people out. "
The man types something into his phone, then shows the screen to his companion. They have a brief conversation in what sounds like Russian before turning back to me.
"If what you say is true, why were you running to her for help?"
I think quickly. "To warn her. I found out you were in town, looking for whoever was behind the blackmail. I was trying to tell her to run, to get rid of the evidence before you found her."
"How very loyal of you." His tone makes it clear he doesn't believe a word. "And these recordings, where did they come from originally?"
"Richard Keller," I say immediately. "He was working with your people, but he got nervous, started recording conversations as insurance.
Livie was dating him, and she found the recordings.
When she realized what she had…" I shrug, trying to look both innocent and terrified. "She saw an opportunity."
The man studies me for a long moment, his eyes cold and assessing. "An interesting story, Ms. Mercer. We'll see if Ms. Bennett tells the same one."
My blood turns to ice. "What do you mean?"
"Mr. Volkov prefers to verify information personally," he explains, as if discussing the weather. "We'll be having a conversation with Ms. Bennett very soon."
"No!" I grab his arm without thinking. "You can't! She's protected. The clubs will come after you if you touch her!"
His smile is thin and humorless. "Your concern for her safety is touching, especially after you just tried to blame everything on her. But don't worry, we're very discreet."
I slump back against the seat, the full horror of what I've done washing over me. In trying to save myself, I've just painted a target on Livie's back. And this time, she might not have the protection of the clubs to save her.
"Please," I whisper, tears spilling down my cheeks. "She doesn't deserve this. It was me—it was all me. I lied."
"Of course you did." He pats my hand with mock sympathy. "But now we'll need to find out which lie you're telling. The first one, or this new one."
The SUV turns onto a dirt road, heading deeper into the forest that surrounds the small town. I know with sickening certainty that I'm not coming back from this journey. Not alive, anyway.
"Where are you taking me?" I ask, though I already know the answer.
"Somewhere quiet," he replies. "Somewhere we can have a long, detailed conversation about exactly what information you stole, who you shared it with, and what Ms. Bennett's role in all this really is."
I close my eyes, images of Livie flashing through my mind—her kind smile, her unwavering loyalty, the hurt in her voice when she discovered my betrayal. And now I've betrayed her again, in the worst possible way.
"I'm sorry, Livie," I whisper, too quiet for anyone to hear. "I'm so, so sorry."
But sorry won't save either of us now. And as the SUV bounces down the rutted dirt road toward whatever fate awaits me, I know with crushing certainty that this time, there's no escape. No clever plan, no last-minute rescue.
Just the consequences of all the choices I made, lies I told, and the desperate, selfish instinct for survival that might cost my best friend her life.
The SUV stops in a clearing where a small cabin stands, isolated and grim. As they drag me from the vehicle, I catch a glimpse of another car parked nearby—sleek, black, expensive. A man leans against it, smoking a cigarette with casual elegance.
"Mr. Volkov," my captor announces, "we've brought the girl. And she has quite an interesting story to tell."
The man straightens, dropping his cigarette and crushing it beneath a polished shoe. His face is handsome in a cold, severe way, his eyes pale and penetrating.
"Ms. Mercer," he greets, his accent more pronounced than his employee's. "I've been looking forward to meeting you."
"Please," I begin, but he holds up a hand, silencing me.
"Save your breath. You'll need it to answer my questions." He gestures toward the cabin. "Shall we begin?"
As they lead me inside, I see a chair in the center of the room, plastic sheeting spread beneath it. My legs nearly give out at the sight.
"Sit," Volkov commands, removing his suit jacket and carefully hanging it on a hook by the door. "And tell me everything. Starting with these recordings you stole, and exactly what they contain."
I sink into the chair, trembling uncontrollably. "I'll tell you everything," I promise, my voice breaking. "Just, please, please don't hurt Livie. This was all me. She never knew anything about it."
Volkov studies me, his head tilted slightly. "We'll see," he says finally. "We'll see what the truth really is."
And as he rolls up his sleeves, I know that whatever happens next, I've sealed both our fates with my desperate lies.