Chapter 44
Forty-Four
Felix
“The warehouse hasn’t been in use for a year,” I say as the car speeds through the city.
Barely a minute after Wylan had taken off with Avaa, a black Porsche drives up and John is tossing Dagen the keys.
We don’t exchange many words until I find answers.
“The company declared bankruptcy and vacated. There are rolling doors on the west face, likely all shut tightly. The East face has four doors and a large rolling door, but those will be highly visible. It looks like there’s an office on the North face that we can slip inside the door and maybe go unseen.
It’s difficult to know where Ricardo chose to set up shop. ”
“No cameras inside the building?” Dagen asks.
“None in operation and the exterior cameras have deteriorated enough that they only have fuzzy video. It’s not exactly in a good part of town. The whole street appears run down,” I answer, running through page after page.
Dagen doesn’t follow the speed limits. He guns the engine through the streets, surprisingly catching up with Wylan despite the man driving like a bat out of hell.
We weave through the streets of the city, tension hanging in the air between us.
None of us wanted anything to happen to Elsie. If something does. . .
“He shouldn’t have been able to get into the school,” I growl under my breath. “The security was top notch. We all checked.”
“Someone had to let him in,” Dagen nods. “Someone who wrongly took pity on a father and probably thought nothing would come of it. It doesn’t matter right now. This ends today. We’ve played our games. It’s time we protect our girls for good.”
I nod. We’d played too much and assumed Ric wouldn’t be so bold but I should have known once he had help disappearing.
I should have set traps, made sure that there was extra security at the school, expected something like this.
We’d been foolish, our egos getting in the way of us taking more extreme measures sooner. And now poor Elsie could pay the price.
The warehouse rises on the street before us like a forgotten skeleton, graffiti tagging up the sides, some of it art, some of it just useless scribbles.
The sidewalks around it are cracked and overgrown despite it only being a year since the business went under.
No one loiters around the building, save for a few homeless people ambling down the street pushing their carts.
The street is otherwise quiet, as if this part of the city has long since given in to decay.
“That must be his car,” Dagen says, nodding toward the black sedan parked half on the street, half on the sidewalk in front of us.
“It is,” I confirm. “License plate matches his rental. Bastard didn’t even attempt to hide his identity coming here.
He called Ava from his actual phone number.
” We lock eyes because we both understand what that means.
He’s not worried about being caught. Ava mentioned he had connections in the police force.
Does he have their blessing to be here? The good ole boy system has caused lots of problems in the past. Is it working in his favor now?
“Did you call the police chief?” I ask Dagen, glancing at him.
He has more influence than anyone else in this city.
He could call the damn mayor if he wanted to and get SWAT to show up, but no one else is here except us and Wylan where he hops off his bike from where he parked it on the sidewalk before helping Ava off.
He carefully pulls the helmet off and reaches for the gun in his waistband.
“Of course I called,” Dagen answers. “I told him to wait thirty minutes before he organizes his people.” He glances at me before popping off his seatbelt and stepping out of the car. “We don’t want any witnesses to the act, only help with the cleanup.”
I nod appreciatively. Ricardo won’t be walking out of this alive, no matter what happens here. We’ll make sure of that.
Setting my computer aside because I won’t need it for this next part, I follow after Dagen, the both of us stepping up to Wylan and Ava where they wait.
Ava is shaking, but her eyes are hard and angry.
As I meet her eyes, the shaking stops, and she purses her lips.
The hesitation in her eyes over Ricardo’s untimely death is gone.
Good. It’s best she goes into this with confidence.
“You two go in whichever way you’d like. Protect our girl,” Wylan commands, his eyes tracing up the building. “I’m going to find another way in.” He grabs Ava and kisses her roughly. “I’m going to be cross with you if you get hurt, crumpet,” he tells her. “So don’t.”
Then he disappears around the side of the building.
I know he’ll probably scale up it and find an entrance from the windows above.
The three of us are incapable of that, so we’ll enter through the office doors like I’d told Dagen.
Part of me thinks we should split up, but I’m not a fighter, not like Wylan.
While I work out, I hardly know enough self-defense to be anything but a liability without a gun.
Ava isn’t a fighter either, not physically.
Mentally, she’s the strongest woman I know.
Dagen seems like he might be able to handle himself, but I have no way of knowing what his capabilities are in this moment.
His records only show like three weeks of karate class as a kid before his mother pulled him out of it.
I don’t know if he took any private lessons or practiced his shooting as an adult.
So, it’s best the three of us stick together instead of splitting up.
That way we can watch each others’ backs.
Dagen pulls a gun from his hip and holds it loosely in his hand. He glances at Ava. “Don’t do anything foolish,” he growls low and quiet. “We take it one step at a time.”
I’m the one who opens the door, throwing it wide so Dagen can aim his gun into the darkness, which is broken up only by the bits of sunshine that’s able to penetrate the dirty windows.
Ava is behind us, protected. If someone shoots, they’ll have to hit us first. My weapon of choice is usually a computer, but for the first time, I wish I had a gun.
Since I don’t have one handy on my hip like Dagen and Wylan seem to, I pick up a large axe from the fire box right inside the door.
The little door is open, like someone had broken the lock, and the medical kit is gone.
But the axe still stands shiny and red, even if it’s a little dirty. It’ll have to do.
“Stay close,” Dagen whispers as he leads the way, his eyes tracing through the darkness, searching for the threats.
We slip inside the office and head for the side door, our feet making far too much noise as they crunch across leaves, gravel, and garbage left behind from squatters and kids trying to have a fun time.
There’s no noise from anywhere else, not from Wylan or anything.
The warehouse is so quiet, I wonder briefly if we came to the wrong place.
Dagen nods toward another door that opens into the greater warehouse, and I grab the handle. Under my breath, I count to three before I throw the door open and Dagen steps through first, his gun aimed outward.
That’s when I realize our mistake.
We’d assumed Ric would be alone with Elsie, or that he at least lost most of his friends with the scandal.
We expected him not to have any true help other than someone who helped him get out of the hotel.
We were wrong. The moment Dagen steps through the door, something large smashes down over his head, disorienting him long enough for him to be tackled to the floor.
The gun skitters away, too far for me to grab.
I immediately push Ava back, urging her to run, but we turn right into more goons who’d somehow snuck in behind us.
They’re wearing matching lewd grins as they grab Ava and hold tight.
She screams in terror, my heart rate kicking into high gear at the thought of her hurt.
I attack, the axe raised over my head as I shout and rush them, but I’m not a fighter.
Compared to these muscled assholes, I might as well be a fucking fly.
I’m wrapped in thick meaty arms before I can so much as swing the axe, and no matter how hard I kick, he doesn’t let me go.
“Let me go!” Ava shrieks, fighting the man holding her. “Dagen! Dagen!”
They carry us through the door like we’re children, waddling inside until we get a good look at the interior of the warehouse as the lights flicker on.
One of the lights sparks with the sudden electricity after being dormant so long, sputters and goes out, leaving the room with dark shadows.
Ava immediately loses her shit when we get a good look in the other room, and I don’t blame her.
In the center of the warehouse is a metal chair, little Elsie sitting on it in her purple frilly skirt and science t-shirt.
Her Converse hang high above the ground, her legs too short to reach the concrete.
She’s tied up, her hands behind her back, cloth around her mouth so she can’t talk.
Tears streak down her cheeks, fear in her eyes that hurts my heart.
She doesn’t deserve this. Neither of them fucking deserves this.
The fear in her eyes makes me want to strangle Ricardo myself, makes me want to rip him limb from fucking limb.
Ricardo appears from the back of the warehouse, striding forward as he nonchalantly rolls up his sleeves to his forearms, slowly folding it over and over.
The movement is meticulous, as if he wants to prolong this, as if he wants our anxiety higher.
He looks at Ava, some sick twisted glee in his eyes that makes me sick.
In his eyes, I see his desire to hurt Ava, to destroy her, and I’m reminded again of every injury she’s suffered over the years to protect her daughter and herself.
She can’t be free until this man takes his last breath.
We’re going to make sure he doesn’t leave this room despite the current situation.
Dagen is held off to the side. Ava and I are brutally shoved to our knees before them.
Elsie cries against the rag over her mouth.
Despite that, I realize exactly the position we’re in.
I start to smile, small at first, but more noticeable the closer this asshole gets.
Even as one of the muscleheads drags Ava toward Ricardo, my smile widens.
He’s not alone. . . but neither are we. I don’t dare look up.
I don’t dare give it away, but I know he’s there, watching, ready to act. Waiting for the perfect opportunity.
Ric grabs Ava roughly and she screams, kicking out at him, trying to hit him with her too small fists. The asshole shakes her violently and my smile turns into a snarl. Dagen is held the same as I am, but even I hear his inhalation of rage the moment Ricardo raises his hand.
The smack echoes in the warehouse.
Ava gasps as her face snaps to the side. Elsie cries through the gag in her mouth, screaming for her mother. Dagen spits his anger, fighting against his hold, desperately trying to get to Ava and Elsie.
But me? I just laugh and shake my head, amused at his idiocy.
Ricardo looks over at me with a snarl. “What?” he hisses. “You think this is funny?”
“You shouldn’t have done that,” I chuckle, my smile more of a savage baring of teeth now.
“And why is that?” Ric snarls, thinking he has the upper hand, too full of ego to understand that Ava and Elsie are no longer alone in this fight. They’ll never be alone again. We’re going to make sure of it.
“Because she doesn’t belong to you anymore,” I warn, straightening against my hold.
My voice goes cold, and I fall into the alter ego I am online, the cold, crass hacker who brings down corporations, corrupt politicians, and criminals who prey on the innocent.
Ricardo is just another job. Perhaps the most important one yet.
“And who do you think she belongs to?” Ricardo spits. “I have a piece of paper that says I own her.”
“You’re an idiot.” I tip my chin up with a husky laugh. “She doesn’t belong to you. She belongs to us.”
Above us, the phantom haunts the rafters.