Chapter 2 #2
Inching the storeroom door open, I slowly peered through the crack.
I felt myself slip into the headspace I occupied when I was fighting for my life back with the Callahans.
Usually, my brain felt like a web browser with fifteen tabs open.
I was easily distracted and prone to flights of fancy (which I hear are the best flights to go on).
When I was working, utilizing the skills Uncle Roark beat into me, everything else faded away, and I was able to focus on a singular goal or objective.
Today, my goal was to get Bones and me out of here alive.
Killing the men responsible for our current situation would be a bonus.
Sticking close to the wall, I silently crept forward on the balls of my feet.
Inching into the kitchen area, I could see Pyro and the burly baton twirler were gone, leaving behind the two men who had beaten Bones.
One leaned against the counter, smoking a cigarette, while the other stood near the doors, pacing and glaring at the parking lot.
Both men were so preoccupied that they completely missed my crouching duck stealth waddle from my position near the kitchen to a spot under the counter.
From my new spot, I paused to listen to their conversation as my eyes scanned the area for a potential weapon.
The restaurant had obviously been closed for a while; a thick layer of dust coated the kitchen appliances, and the floor was covered in grime.
I was squatting on the floor behind the counter Goon #1 was leaning against and I did my best to remain as silent as the grave as I searched the shelf in front of me.
My eyes landed on a screwdriver, and a grim smile tugged at the corners of my mouth. I could work with this.
“This babysitting duty is bullshit,” Goon #2 complained from his position near the door. “Pyro’s a motherfuckin’ traitor, why we gotta listen to him? Riot should have given one of us the lead on this job.” Ugh, what a whiner.
“Riot has his reasons, and Pyro knows their compound and schedule. Don’t matter now anyway.
” Goon #1 hocked a loogie onto the floor.
Charming. “We deliver the girl, get our new East Coast connection, and Pyro will lose his leverage.” Palming the screwdriver, I waited a moment to see if the goons would say anything useful…
like when Pyro was expected back or where Good #3 a.k.a.
Baton Twirler went. Time was of the essence, though.
After another moment of useless chitchat, I’d had enough.
Screwdriver in hand, I took a steady breath and popped up behind Goon #1.
In the blink of an eye, I had him by his hair and wrenched his head to the side.
I buried the tool into the side of his neck until the handle met flesh.
Ripping the handle free, blood came gushing out of Goon #1 like a geyser.
Goon #2 wasted no time drawing his weapon, but he hesitated to take his shot.
I guess he didn’t want to hit his pal, my meat shield, but he really should have taken the shot.
His friend would be dead soon, either way.
I could feel the press of a gun against my belly where it was tucked into the waistband of Goon #1’s black tactical pants.
He was so worried about staunching the Phillip’s head-shaped hole in his carotid artery that I don’t think he even noticed me drawing his gun out of his waistband.
Flicking the safety off with my thumb, I kicked Goon #1 in the back of his knee, dropping him to his knees and putting his head level with my chest. Goon #2 managed to squeeze off one shot that went wide before I tagged him with two rounds in his chest. Without hesitation, I buried a bullet in the skull of Goon #1, sending shards of bone and bits of gray matter splattering across the countertop.
For the sake of thoroughness, I strode over to Goon #2 and put a round between his eyes to make sure he didn’t have the chance to enact a horror movie third-act resurrection.
I scanned the parking lot, looking for signs of Pyro and the Baton Twirler.
The derelict and crumbling parking lot was empty and dark apart from the run-down sedan in which Bones and I were transported.
I briskly went through the newly departed goons’ pockets, taking their wallets and a set of car keys.
I hesitated as I considered their phones.
On one hand, I wanted to bring back as much useful information as I could gather to the Crows so we could figure out who Pyro had betrayed them to.
On the other hand, I wasn’t sure what to do to ensure Bones and I couldn’t be tracked via the devices.
I wasn’t the most tech-savvy individual for obvious reasons and didn’t have time to figure it out now.
Taking a moment to wipe my screwdriver off, I tucked it into my sports bra and scooped up the phones and guns before rushing back to Bones.
We had no way to know if anyone heard the gunfire or when the other two asshats would be back.
I burst into the supply room to find Bones right where I left him, looking very peeved.
“Jesucristo, chica loca! I thought you were shot!”
I huffed under my breath. “Gimmie some credit, Bones. It was two guys. We do need to get out of here, though, ASAP.” I used my screwdriver, an excellent multipurpose tool, to press into the locking mechanism on Bones’s zip ties, loosening them and freeing him from the shelf.
Gently, I helped Bones rise to his feet and handed him one of the handguns.
He checked the magazine on the gun, noting how many rounds were left.
I hope he was ambidextrous because his dominant hand was currently cradled against his chest.
Holding up the stolen phones, I asked, “Do you know how to take the computer chip thingy out of these phones?”
“Si.” Bones told me how to remove the chips, and I smashed the phones, hoping that was enough to render them useless, and pocketed the chips.
“Time to get the hell out of here,” I said, and with a nod from Bones, we rushed to the exit. I scanned the lot again, and when it seemed unchanged, Bones and I both moved toward the door at the same time, causing me to roll my eyes.
“Even concussed, I’m probably a better shot than you, and you’re injured. I’ll take point, and you can be the getaway driver.”
Without waiting for a response, I burst through the door and hustled Bones to the car.
My eyes were open wide and searching for movement, ears perked up for sounds other than our breathing, ready for Pyro or the Baton Twirler to reappear and ruin our escape.
I tossed the keys to Bones, who caught them one-handed and slid into the driver’s seat while I vigilantly watched the lot.
The engine spluttered to life, and I rounded the hood of the car before sliding into the passenger seat.
Bones threw the car into gear, and the next thing I knew, we were flying out of the parking lot and down the road.
“Where are you going? We don’t know where we are!” I buckled my seat belt because safety first, obviously.
“The hell away from here,” Bones bit out, jaw clenched. “We need to put some distance between us and those fuckers, then we can find a gas station or somewhere I can call Duke. You did real good back there, Indi.”
I grinned and sat up a little straighter in my seat. “Aw shucks, Bones, it was nothing.”
Bones pushed the old sedan as fast as it could go, the speedometer almost at its maximum speed.
I rifled through the glove compartment to see if our kidnappers left anything cool in there.
No such luck. Not even gum. Suddenly, bright red and blue lights burst into life behind us, causing Bones to groan in frustration and whack the steering wheel with the palm of his left hand.
“Indi, put the guns and the screwdriver into the glove box and lock it now. Don’t speak. Just let me do the talking. Comprende?”
I dumped the weapons into the glove box, closed and locked it, and then mimed zipping my lips closed.
Bones pulled the car over to the side of the two-lane road we had been speeding down. The police officer slowed to a stop behind us as Bones shut off the engine and rolled down the driver’s side window. A uniformed officer climbed out of an SUV and walked over to us.
“Sir, I’m going to need your license and registration. Do you know how fast you were going?”
I leaned over the armrest between the seats. “Is there a problem, officer?”
Bones hissed at me under his breath to be quiet. “Unfortunately, Officer, I seem to have left home without my wallet. I apologize for speeding. I was just trying to get my…sister home. She’s sick.” Bones did his best to shield me from the officer’s eyes with his wide shoulders.
Overcome with emotion, I pressed my hands to my chest and gave Bones “aw, shucks” eyes.
He called me his sister. I wasn’t sure about Bones the first time we met, seeing as how he attacked Sheila and tied me to a chair in Priest’s confessional.
However, he quickly became one of my favorite Crows.
Bones seemed to get me better than most did, and I challenged any girl not to form a bond with the man who pampered her van. It was impossible.
“Sir,” the officer commanded, bringing me back to the present, “that’s unfortunate about your sister.
You were going ninety miles per hour in a fifty-five-mile-per-hour zone.
I’m going to have to place you under arrest for reckless endangerment.
Please exit the vehicle and put your hands behind your back.
” Bones sighed and opened his door, stepping out of the vehicle and placing his hands behind his back.
The officer reached for his cuffs, and I suddenly remembered Bones’s injured arm.
I waved my hands at the officer and yelled, “Hey! Officer, wait! Be careful with those, I think my brother’s right arm might be broken.” Unfortunately for me, I had forgotten that my hands were covered in patches of dried blood courtesy of Goon #1’s gaping neck wound.
“Ma’am, is that blood?”
Well, shit.