Chapter 5 - Knight
I move silently down the stairs, years of military training kicking in. Place each foot carefully, avoid the spots that creak. Right hand hovering near my lower back where my Glock would normally be, but it's in the truck. Damn renovation cover.
The knocking at the front door grows more insistent. I pause at the bottom of the stairs, peering through the crack between the door and jamb into the darkened bookstore.
Two figures visible through the glass storefront. Men in suits. Not Wilson and Cruz. These are different. One tall and wiry, one stockier with a military buzz cut. Both with hands inside their jackets.
I hate that I had to lie to Beth upstairs. Pretending I had no idea who she is, what her situation entails. Playing dumb when she mentioned a protection detail. Watching the fear and confusion on her face while I feigned ignorance.
The lies don't sit right, but they're necessary. If she knew Reaper had sent me, that I've been tracking her protection detail, that the Outlaw Order MC is involved... she'd bolt. Any reasonable person would.
The taller man cups his hands against the glass, peering inside. Then he steps back, says something to his partner. The stocky one nods, moves toward the alley that leads to the back entrance.
They're splitting up to cover both exits.
I ease back up three steps, then hurriedly but quietly return to the apartment.
Beth is standing in the living room, backpack clutched to her chest, eyes wide with fear.
"We need to move. Now," I tell her, keeping my voice low. "Two men downstairs. They're trying to cover both entrances."
"The agents from before?"
"Different ones. They have guns out."
Her face goes pale. "Oh god."
"Is there another way out of this building? Fire escape? Roof access?"
She nods quickly. "There's a maintenance ladder in the hallway outside the apartment. It goes to the roof."
"Perfect. Let's go."
I guide her into the hallway, scanning for the ladder. It's at the far end—a metal pull-down affair that probably hasn't been used in years.
Behind us, I hear the back door of the bookstore opening. Heavy footsteps on the stairs. I reach up and yank the ladder down, wincing at the screech of metal against metal. So much for stealth.
"Go," I whisper urgently to Beth. "All the way to the roof. I'll be right behind you."
She hesitates for just a second, then starts climbing, her backpack slung over one shoulder. I follow close behind, pulling the ladder up after us as we clear the ceiling access panel.
We emerge onto a flat roof, typical of the old buildings on Main Street. Gravel underfoot, air conditioning units humming. The sun is bright after the dim hallway, momentarily disorienting.
"This way," I say, leading her toward the south side of the building. "The buildings on this block are connected. We can cross to the next one."
Beth follows without question, her breath coming in short, panicked bursts. I want to reassure her, tell her I won't let anything happen to her, but there's no time.
The next building is slightly lower than the bookstore. A drop of about four feet.
"I'll go first," I tell her. "Then I'll help you down."
I jump the gap easily, landing in a crouch on the neighboring roof. Then I turn and hold my arms up.
"Toss me your bag first."
She does, and I set it aside. Then she sits on the edge of the bookstore roof, legs dangling.
"I've got you," I promise, reaching up.
She slides off, and I catch her around the waist, easing her down. For a brief moment, she's in my arms, her body pressed against mine. She's soft and warm, smelling faintly of vanilla and fear-sweat.
I set her on her feet quickly, but my hands linger on her waist a second longer than necessary, making sure she's steady.
"Thank you," she whispers.
"Don't thank me yet," I reply, scanning the surrounding rooftops. "We need to keep moving."
We cross two more buildings this way, putting distance between us and the bookstore. At the fourth building, I find what I'm looking for—a fire escape on the rear wall.
"Down here," I direct. "Quick and quiet."
Beth descends first, and I follow, keeping my body between her and any potential line of sight from the bookstore. We reach the alley below without incident.
"My truck's parked on Oak Street," I tell her. "Two blocks east. We'll have to move along these back alleys to reach it."
She nods, clutching her backpack like a lifeline. "Who were those men?"
"I don't know," I lie, and hate myself for it. Based on Reaper's intel, they're almost certainly hired guns working for the corrupt officials Beth is set to testify against. The ones who've been paying off her protection detail.
We move swiftly through the alley, staying close to the buildings, using dumpsters and delivery trucks for cover. Beth keeps up well, following my lead without question. For someone with no apparent tactical training, she's handling the situation remarkably well.
At the corner of Pine and Oak, I halt, peering around to check the street before we cross.
"Clear," I whisper. "The truck is halfway down the block. Blue Ford, contractor logo on the side."
We're almost there when I spot movement in my peripheral vision. A black sedan moving slowly down Oak Street, the passenger window rolling down.
"Get down!" I shout, grabbing Beth and pulling her behind a parked car just as the first shot cracks through the air.
Glass shatters somewhere behind us. Beth makes a small, terrified sound against my chest.
"Stay down," I order, shielding her body with mine as more shots follow. "When I say move, we run straight to the blue truck. Don't stop, don't look back. Understand?"
She nods against my chest, trembling violently.
I wait for a break in the gunfire, counting the shots. Six... seven... pause. They're reloading.
"Now!" I yell, pulling her up and pushing her toward the truck.
We sprint across the open space, bullets pinging off metal and concrete around us. Twenty feet feels like twenty miles. I fumble the keys from my pocket, hit the unlock button.
"Get in!"
Beth yanks open the passenger door and dives inside. I circle around, keeping low, and slide behind the wheel as another volley of shots rings out.
The engine roars to life. I throw the truck into reverse, backing up rapidly, then shift to drive and slam the gas pedal to the floor. The truck lurches forward, tires squealing.
In the rearview mirror, I see the black sedan pull a U-turn to follow.
"Hold on," I warn Beth, then take a hard right onto a side street, tires screeching.
She's pressed back against the seat, knuckles white where she grips the door handle, but she's not screaming or falling apart. The woman has steel beneath her fear.
I take several more turns at high speed, using my knowledge of Pine Haven's streets to our advantage. The sedan stays with us for the first few maneuvers, then falls behind as I cut through an alley too narrow for their vehicle.
"Are they still following?" Beth asks, voice remarkably steady given the circumstances.
I check the mirrors. "I don't see them, but they'll be searching. We need to get out of town."
"Where are we going?"
Good question. I can't take her to the clubhouse: that would blow my cover completely. Can't take her to my apartment for the same reason. Outlaw Order's safe house is the logical choice, but she's not ready for that yet. Doesn't trust me enough.
"Somewhere safe," I say vaguely. "But first, we need to ditch this truck. It's too recognizable."
I head north toward the outskirts of town, to a storage facility I know the club uses. I have access to the gate code and a key to one of the units. Inside that unit is a nondescript black Jeep with clean plates—one of several emergency vehicles Reaper maintains.
"I know a place we can swap vehicles," I tell her.
Beth is silent for a long moment. "Those men... they were going to kill me, weren't they?"
I consider lying again, softening the truth, but she deserves better. "Yes, I think they were."
She exhales shakily. "How did they find me? The witness protection program… They said I'd be safe."
"I don't know," I say, and this time it's not entirely a lie. I know her protection detail was compromised, but no details.
"Thank you," she says quietly. "For helping me. For being there when they came."
Guilt twists in my gut. I'm here because Reaper ordered it, not by coincidence. I knew she was in danger before she did.
"Right place, right time," I mutter, focusing on the road.
"No," she insists. "You knew something was wrong. You were prepared. Most people wouldn't have known what to do."
I glance at her. "Military training. It sticks with you."
"Is that really all it is? Or are you... something else?"
Sharp. Too sharp for my cover to hold much longer.
"What do you mean?"
She shifts in her seat to face me. "No ordinary contractor carries a burner phone. Or knows how to escape across rooftops. Or can evade armed pursuers in a car chase. Even if they’re ex-military."
I keep my expression neutral. "I told you I did personal protection work after the military."
"Is that what you're really doing in Pine Haven? Protection work?"
I ignore her question. We're approaching the storage facility now. I use the moment it takes to punch in the gate code to gather my thoughts, decide how much to tell her.
As the gate slides open, I pull the truck inside and park it near the back, out of sight from the road.
"Wait here," I tell her, avoiding the question. "I need to get another vehicle."
I walk to unit 17, unlock it, and roll up the door to reveal the black Jeep. It takes me less than two minutes to check that it's ready to go. Keys in the ignition, full tank, go-bag in the back with weapons, cash, and supplies.
When I return to the truck, Beth is sitting exactly where I left her, but her expression has changed. There's a new wariness in her eyes.
"You never answered my question," she says as I open her door.
"No," I admit. "I didn't."
"Because you're lying about who you are."
It's not a question.
I extend my hand to help her out of the truck. "We need to move. I'll explain what I can once we're on the road."
She doesn't take my hand. "How do I know you're not working for them? For the people who want me dead?"
"If I wanted you dead, I wouldn't have helped you escape."
"Unless you're taking me somewhere to kill me privately."
I sigh, dropping my hand. "Beth, I understand why you don't trust me. You shouldn't trust anyone right now. But those men back there were shooting at both of us. I put myself between you and their bullets. Does that seem like the action of someone working with them?"
She studies my face, searching for deception. Finally, she slides out of the truck without my assistance.
"What's that?" she asks, nodding toward the Jeep.
"Our new ride. Clean vehicle, won't be connected to either of us."
"And you just happen to have access to it?"
"Yes," I say simply.
She follows me to the Jeep but pauses before getting in. "I need to know who you really are, Sam. If that's even your name."
"It is. Samuel Davis. Former Army Ranger." That much is true. "As for why I'm in Pine Haven..." I hesitate. "It's complicated."
"Uncomplicate it."
"I can't. Not yet. But I promise you, I'm not with the people who want to hurt you. I'm trying to keep you alive."
She weighs this, clutching her backpack to her chest. "Why should I believe you?"
"Because I'm all you've got right now," I say bluntly. "And because when those bullets were flying, I didn't hesitate to protect you. That wasn't an act."
After a long moment, she nods once and climbs into the Jeep. I close her door, circle around to the driver's side, and get in.
"Where are we going?" she asks again as I start the engine.
"There's a cabin about an hour north of here. Remote, well-stocked, defensible. We can lay low there while we figure out our next move."
In reality, it's one of Reaper's properties—a safe house the club uses when members need to disappear for a while. Beth doesn't need to know that yet.
"And then what?" she asks.
"Then we figure out who compromised your witness protection and why." I pull out of the storage facility, checking for any sign of pursuit before turning north on the rural highway. "And we find a way to keep you safe until you can testify."
"How do you know I'm a witness?" Her voice is sharp with suspicion. "I never told you that."
Shit. Careless mistake.
"You mentioned a protection detail," I improvise. "Federal agents who check on you daily. Doesn't take a genius to put that together with your obvious fear and the men trying to kill you."
She's not entirely convinced, but she doesn't press further.
As we drive north, leaving Pine Haven behind, I can feel her eyes on me. Studying. Evaluating. She knows I'm not being completely honest, and it's only a matter of time before she demands the whole truth.
What will I tell her then? That I'm a prospect for the Outlaw Order MC? That our president assigned me to protect her? That I've been lying since the moment we met?
The truth could make her run. But more lies will destroy any chance of trust between us. And I'm starting to realize that I want her trust. And not just for the mission.
"You should try to rest," I tell her, breaking the silence. "It's going to be a long night."
"I don't think I could sleep if I tried," she says, but she leans her head against the window, her body betraying her exhaustion.
Within twenty minutes, despite her protest, her breathing has deepened and slowed. She's asleep, her face finally relaxed, the worry lines smoothed away.
I reach over and tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, then immediately question why I did it. This is a mission. She is an assignment. Nothing more.
Yet as I drive through the deepening twilight, I can't shake the feeling that I've crossed some invisible line. That Beth Carter is becoming more than just a witness I've been ordered to protect.