71. Ryker
CHAPTER SEVENTY-ONE
RYKER
NOW
As fucking tempted as I am to put a bullet between Damon’s eyes for lying to us and putting my girl in danger, I force myself to remain perfectly still as I listen to the brothers talk.
Ronan’s pissed. I don’t need to have known him for long to know he’s just as furious with his brother as I am, but he’s being calm and rational, two things we desperately need right now.
It’s obvious how broken up Damon is about this. He knows he’s fucked up. He knows he’s put Chloe in danger.
If shit is ever going to work out between all of us, I can’t pull a gun on them whenever they annoy me, even if it is tempting.
“If we kill him, we have to kill everyone,” Damon says at last. He’d been quiet for so long I almost forgot what they were saying.
“Then we kill everyone.” Ronan shrugs. “If it means taking him down and removing a threat from Chloe’s life, then so be it. I’m sure Ryker wouldn’t mind getting his hands dirty. He keeps talking about torturing people in his sleep.”
That does sound like me, I think to myself before frowning.
I hope I haven’t scared my siren with my sleep talking. She hasn’t said anything, but that doesn’t mean she hasn’t heard it.
It probably doesn’t help that I sleep with my favorite knife beneath my pillow.
“So you’re really in this, huh? Sharing your childhood sweetheart with a serial killer and the man we’ve spent most of our lives hunting?”
“If it means keeping Chloe, fuck yeah, I’m in this. And Ryker grows on you once he stops threatening your life at every turn.” He chuckles.
I crack an eye open, making sure neither of them is looking my way, and take in the scene in front of me.
Damon no longer has his head in his hands, but his eyes are haunted with the weight of the decision he needs to make.
He shifts slightly in the uncomfortable chair I had while we ate our bland microwaved burritos, and something catches my attention.
A thin red beam cuts through the dimly lit room, and it only takes a moment to place it.
I leap out of bed, thanking past me for not bothering to get under the blankets.
“Get down!” I shout, diving for the gun I left on top of my bag.
Damon barely gets the chance to move before a bullet slices through the quiet night, cutting through the window without shattering it.
The brothers drop to the floor at the same time, crawling across the worn carpet to their own weapons.
“We need to get Chloe!” Ronan shouts as another gunshot sounds.
“Can you see anything outside?” I ask, moving toward the door that joins our rooms.
Pressing his back to the wall beside the window, he shifts the curtain slightly but quickly pulls back. “There are at least three guys out there dressed like the ones that hit the house in Connecticut.”
I curse when I find the door between the rooms locked on the other side.
“Cover me!” I shout, shoving myself to my feet and slamming my body into the door.
I’m not in direct sight of the window, but I’ve seen the shots highly trained assassins can make, and I don’t plan on taking any chances.
The flimsy wood barely puts up a fight, and I crash into the other room, crawling across the carpet to where Chloe and Kingston are still sleeping.
I don’t know how considering how much noise the gunshots are making, but it doesn’t matter right now.
All that matters is getting her to safety.
I grasp hold of the sheets and tug as hard as I can until they tumble over the edge on top of me. Having a naked Chloe on me is usually my favorite part of the day, but not so much when our lives are in danger.
“What the fuck, Ryker?” Kingston snaps.
“We’re under attack! We need to get the fuck out of here right now.”
His dark eyes turn to the window, and he curses, quickly tugging on the clothes he was wearing yesterday while I help Chloe pull on hers.
She’s barely awake, her eyes bleary but full of fear as they dart from the window to the door I destroyed on the way in.
“They’re fine, Siren. This isn’t their first gunfight, and I highly doubt it will be their last.”
“That doesn’t make me feel any better,” she hisses.
I shove her feet into her tennis shoes and secure the laces, making sure she can run if she needs to. I fucking hope it doesn’t come to that, but I need to give her every advantage I can.
Kingston’s dark eyes meet mine before dropping to Chloe.
“I’ve got her,” I promise. “Go check on them.”
He spares us one last glance before slipping into the neighboring room where gunshots sound every few seconds.
I tuck Chloe against my side, fishing Kingston’s phone off the bedside table and dialing Corbin.
The brothers and I plotted several escape routes before we went to bed last night, but most of them are up in smoke now that the car is surrounded and both rooms are compromised.
“King,” he greets on the second ring.
“It’s me. We’re under attack. I need you to hack into the cameras around the motel and tell me how many guys we’re dealing with.”
He curses a moment before the tapping of keyboard keys fills the line.
Another burst of gunfire makes Chloe jolt against me, but I band my arm around her middle tighter, stopping her from slipping away to check on them.
There’s nothing that will get me killed quicker than allowing Chloe to be hurt.
“Fuck.”
“What is it?”
“Three vans, at least seven men, but I wouldn’t be surprised if they have you surrounded. There are no cameras around the back of the building, but given how organized they clearly are, I’d bet my life on them waiting for you to climb out of the windows in the bathroom.”
Pressing my eyes closed to gather my composure, I try to envision a way all five of us make it out of here alive without backup.
“Can you get an ID?” I ask.
“I’m running the plates now, as well as facial recognition on one guy.”
“He’s not wearing a mask?” I frown.
“Negative. He’s in a van at the back, probably thinks he’s too far away to be picked up by the cameras.”
The other end of the line is quiet for so long I start to think the call has dropped, but then Corbin curses.
“What is it?”
“I got an ID on the guy in the van,” he tells me. “It’s Sebastian Vega.”
Chloe’s eyes widen as they meet mine.
The name is vaguely familiar, but I can’t recall us ever doing business with them.
“He’s the son of Terrance Vega, the leader of a crime family with ties to the Lombardis,” Corbin adds. “But it doesn’t make sense. They wouldn’t have these kinds of resources, and I doubt they have this many people on their payroll with military-level skills.”
Another round of gunshots makes Chloe flinch, and for the first time in my life, I have no fucking clue what to do.
I’ve always been able to visualize how to end conflict like this without getting myself killed, but I’ve never had a variable I cared about more than my own heart continuing to beat.
All that matters is getting Chloe out of this motel and to safety.
“Rocco and Remy are en route to your location, but they’re at least twenty minutes away.”
“Were they nearby for a job?”
He half laughs. “We assumed that you’d need backup at some point, and King was just too stubborn to ask for it. They took a quick job a few hours away when everything was quiet after you checked in, but clearly that went to shit.”
“Clearly,” I deadpan. “Gather everything you can on the Vegas, including any recent dealings with the Lombardis and any other crime families.”
“I’m on it. You focus on getting out of there safely.”
I end the call and slip his phone into my pocket.
“Damon was engaged to Mikayla Vega,” Chloe says shakily. “They were due to be married not long after I escaped, but I don’t know what happened. I don’t know why the arranged marriage didn’t go ahead.”
Damon fucking Lombardi and his secrets are going to get us all killed, and if he puts my woman in danger one more time, I intend on following through with my threats to torture the motherfucker to death.