Chapter 39
39
MAVERICK
W e pull up to The Escape , my heart pounding in my chest. The world around me blurs into a chaotic mess of flashing lights. Police cars are everywhere. I'm trapped in a nightmare, one I've lived before.
My legs feel like lead as I stumble out of the car. Ransom's saying something, but his words don't register. All I can hear is the echo of gunshots from years ago, the screams that still haunt my dreams.
Ambulances. There are ambulances. My vision tunnels, and for a moment, I'm that scared little boy again, watching paramedics wheel out bodies on stretchers. Watching them wheel away the person I loved most in the world.
No. Focus. This isn't then. This is now. I scan the faces of the people being treated. None familiar. Thank God. Unless…
Nope. I can't go there. They all have to be okay.
I lurch towards the entrance, desperate to get inside. A uniform materializes in front of me, blocking my path. Without thinking, my fist cocks back, ready to clear the obstacle.
A hand catches my arm. Ransom. He's between me and the cop, talking in low, urgent tones. I can't make out the words over the roaring in my ears, but whatever he's saying works and the cop steps aside.
We push through the door, and the familiar interior of my club feels alien now. Shattered glass crunches under my feet. Overturned tables. The acrid smell of gunpowder hangs in the air.
My breath comes in short, sharp gasps. I'm drowning in memories, in fear. Where's Trixie? Where's everyone? I spin around, searching for a familiar face in the sea of uniforms and shocked expressions.
"Mav." Ransom's voice breaks through the fog. He wraps his arm around my chest, tugging me into him so I can feel his chest moving. "Breathe, brother. Breathe with me. We'll figure this out, I promise."
I nod, not trusting my voice. One breath. Then another. I have to keep it together. For Cadence. I can't let the past pull me under. Not now. Not when she needs me.
Then a small body is darting through the room, coming straight for me. Ransom lets me go as Trixie careens into my arms. I pull back to scan her, my heart in my throat. No visible injuries. Thank God. Relief floods through me, but it's short-lived.
"Cadence," I choke out. "Where's Cadence?"
Trixie's eyes go wide. "Oh my God, Mav. You wouldn't believe it. I never knew—it was incredible. Cadence, she?—"
"Trixie," I cut her off, fighting to keep my voice steady. "Is she hurt?"
"Oh God. Mav, no, no," Trixie shakes her head, words tumbling out. "She's okay. She helped disarm one of the gunmen. And Dean, he got the other one. It happened so fast. Cadence was right there and the guys only got off a shot or two."
My mind reels. Cadence disarmed a gunman? I can't process it. All I know is I need to see her, now.
"Where is she?" I demand, scanning the room frantically.
Trixie looks around, tucking herself under Ransom's arm. "She was right... There! There she is."
I follow her gaze and spot Cadence across the room, talking to a cop. My feet move before my brain catches up. I'm bolting towards her, dodging people and debris. Nothing else matters.
In seconds, I'm there. I don't slow down, just sweep her into my arms, crushing her against my chest. She's here. She's safe. I bury my face in her hair, breathing her in.
"Mav," she whispers, her arms wrapping around me.
I pull back just enough to look at her, my hands cupping her face. "Are you okay? Are you hurt?"
She shakes her head, her wide eyes locked on mine. "I'm fine. I promise."
I press my forehead to hers, relief washing over me in waves. "God, Cadence. When I heard... I thought..."
"I know," she says softly. "I'm okay. We're okay."
I pull back from Cadence, my hands trembling as they roam over her body. My eyes scan every inch of her, searching for any sign of injury. She said she's fine. She looks fine. But I need to check. I need to feel.
The red and blue flashing lights cast an eerie glow on her skin, making shadows dance across her face.
"I'm okay, Mav. Really," she insists softly, her voice steady despite the chaos around us. Her hands come up to cup my cheeks. Her touch grounds me, just for a moment, then the fear roars back.
The acrid smell of gunpowder still hangs in the air, mixing with the familiar scents of alcohol and perfume. Broken glass crunches under our feet as I shift my weight, pulling her closer again. Her hair glitters under the light, and that's when I realize her hair is sprinkled with glass. I carefully pick it out, switching hands when my fingers get bloody.
"What happened?" I demand, my voice hoarse. "Trixie said you disarmed him? Why would you do that? Why would you put yourself in danger like that? You should have just let them take whatever they wanted. Nothing in here is worth your life."
Cadence's eyes meet mine, unwavering. "I didn't put myself in danger. I wouldn't do that. It happened so fast. I was serving them - they'd been here a while, and I didn't really think anything of it. They were just regular customers. Then suddenly, one left the table, and the other pulled a gun right next to me."
My heart pounds in my ears, drowning out the murmur of voices around us. I can barely breathe, imagining how close she came to...
"When he swung it toward me, I reacted. I didn't have time to think. I didn't plan it. But it all turned out okay."
Logic abandons me. All I can see are the what-ifs, the horrifying possibilities. My words come out in a frantic rush. "You shouldn't be working here. You could have been killed. It's not safe. I can't... I can't let you..."
"Mav, I'm fine," Cadence argues, her brow furrowing. "It was scary, but it was a fluke. This place is safe. You know that. You hired great security."
The fear morphs into anger, hot and irrational. "Obviously not good enough! You can't come back here," I growl.
Her eyes flash, and she tilts her chin, but her voice is still low, and calm, like she's talking to one of her scared dogs. "It's my job. Of course, I'll be back."
She's not fazed, at all, while I can't seem to catch my breath.
I can't do it. I can't have her in here. There's no way I'll be able to function through the worry. My chest tightens even further, panic clawing at my throat. The words tumble out before I can stop them. "I love you too much to let you keep working here. You're fired."
The shock on Cadence's face hits me like a physical blow, but I can't take it back. Can't risk her safety. I turn away, my feet carrying me towards the waiting police officers, leaving her standing there, stunned into silence.
The weight of what I've just done settles on my shoulders, but I push it aside. I have to focus on the investigation now. I'll deal with the consequences later. Right now, all that matters is that she's safe. I don't care if she hates me right now. It doesn't matter, as long as she's fucking breathing.
I scan the club, my eyes landing on Dean. He's sitting in front of a paramedic, a nasty cut along his cheekbone. Other than that, he seems okay. Relief washes over me.
Dean tries to stand when he sees me, but I clap him on the shoulder, easing him back into the chair. "Tell me what happened?"
He takes a deep breath, wincing slightly. "They presented as regular customers, boss. Sat for about an hour, enjoying the show. Then suddenly, one of them was pressing a gun into my chest."
I feel my jaw clench. "Amateurs?"
Dean nods. "Definitely. The guy fighting me didn't even get a shot off."
It's a damned good thing I hired Dean. His time in the military police clearly prepared him to handle anything. I make a mental note to give him a raise, assuming he still wants to work here after this mess.
"And Cadence?" I ask, trying to keep my voice steady.
Dean shakes his head, a look of awe crossing his face. "I had no idea she was such a fighter. She took down the other guy so fast, I'd only made it halfway to her, and she had her guy unconscious on the floor."
My heart races. I can't decide if I'm more impressed or terrified. "How was she after?"
"A little shaky, from the adrenaline. She sat down for a bit, and she was fine."
I nod, processing. "Did she say anything?"
Dean shrugs. "Not much. She was pretty quiet, actually. Just kept checking on everyone else."
That sounds like Cadence. Always putting others first. Even after nearly getting shot.
"Boss," Dean says, leaning forward. "I gotta say, I've never seen anything like it. She moved like... like she'd been trained for this."
I raise an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"
"I mean, her technique was flawless. It wasn't just luck or adrenaline. She knew exactly what she was doing."
"Her grandpa made sure she knew how to handle herself." Despite the echoes of fear still running through me, I grin. "She and Becca went toe to toe, and came out of it with no clear winner."
Dean whistles and shakes his head. "Jesus. No wonder."
"Yeah, no wonder."
"Thanks, Dean," I say, squeezing his shoulder. "Get yourself checked out properly, alright? Take as much time off as you need."
He nods, looking relieved. "Thanks, boss. And... maybe consider some extra security measures? Just in case."
"Already on it," I assure him, though my mind is elsewhere.
I turn away, my eyes searching for Cadence again. She's talking with Trixie and Ransom, and by the looks of it, she's fucking pissed.