35. Paige
35
PAIGE
I barely manage to get the chair back in place when the toilet flushes down the hall, followed by the door opening. Typical villain. Didn’t even wash his hands. I think I might be off by a couple inches from where he left me, but this is as good as I can do. It would have been nice to have more time, and I think the message was a little garbled, but I didn’t exactly have time to correct anything.
“Good, still here,” Fabbri notes as he returns.
“I'm captivated. Just couldn't tear myself away.”
He laughs. “I can see why the bikers like you. A bit too much sass for my tastes, but I can appreciate the spirit. Doesn't get you off the hook, I'm afraid, but at least we can entertain ourselves.” And then he notices the phone. He looks at it, then at me, then back at it, then shakes his head. “Fuck, could've been trouble.” Then he picks some painkillers out of the first aid kit, sits down and goes back to scrolling. Feels like he's just killing time.
“I probably should've left Heather alive longer,” he says suddenly. “I can’t drive with my arm like this, but her voice was driving me up the fucking wall. The woman had a good mouth but she didn’t know when to shut up. My people will be here soon enough.” He looks at me, gun in hand. “I’m not quite sure what to do with you, honestly. At first I wanted you so we could get the business transferred to someone loyal to me, and then I was just curious about what kind of woman had so many people so worked up.”
He walks over and looks down at me. “I’m not sure I see the hype.”
I'm starting to wonder if there's something not quite right with him. And us crashing his party didn't make it any better. It might make it easier for the guys if he's not quite with it, but that also makes him more unpredictable, and that's not great news for me.
“You're a pretty girl. You could do a lot better than men like the Outlaw Sons. I don't understand it.”
He never will. They have a level of honor and integrity that in spite of his talk about loyalty, he'll never figure out. And they aren’t soulless madmen. And that's when I hear it. A faint rumble in the distance. Motorcycles?
“Giant cocks,” I answer to distract him. “Absolutely massive.”
Fabbri looks like he just swallowed a lemon. “You’re disgusting!”
I sigh. “And I have to go to the bathroom.”
“I should let you pee yourself in the chair,” he says with a sneer.
“Then you would have to deal with me smelling like pee.”
“Fine, fine.” He looks around for something sharp and finds the trauma shears in the first aid kit. “Sit still.”
Once I'm snipped free, he pulls his gun and points it at me.
“I'm not going to run away from the bathroom.”
“Doesn't mean I'm taking any chances. Come on. You can have the stall to yourself, but other than that I'm not letting you out of my sight until I have you bound again.”
I almost fall over when I try to get up, my legs jello after sitting for so long in the exact same position. “Wait a minute. Just waiting for the pins and needles.” I lean on the wall, trying to keep his attention away from sounds outside. “That's the problem with sitting still. My mom was the same way. Tingles almost right away. Sometimes I wonder if I just have bad circulation.” I smile awkwardly.
“You have no idea how little I care. Come on.”
This time I'm able to walk, so I do. I really could pee, so it's not all made up, but mostly.
The rumble cuts off, and to me the sudden quiet seems like the loudest most obvious sound, but Fabbri doesn't seem to register it. Maybe he just thinks it's outside traffic on the main road. Hopefully, he'll keep thinking that. I pull open the door to the bathroom, and it slams against the wall. “Oops, I forgot how easily it opened.” Make noise, just keep making noise.
“Can't say I had a problem.”
“I'm just too eager, you know. Just don't know my own strength. My mom always said I'd grow up strong, and I guess she's?—”
“Shut. Up. Someone's here.” He points his gun away for just a moment, then back to me. “I shouldn't have listened to Heather either. This place was too obvious. Fuck. Come.” He waves with the gun forcing me in the opposite direction.
“But I really have to?—”
He fires the gun into the ceiling.
I stop stalling, letting him herd me deeper into the warehouse to the main area where washers, dryers and ironing machines are. Forget your laundry room at home. These things are huge, industrial machines laid out on a factory floor, with conveyor belts and almost fully automated. Mom might have started small, but she built an impressive business. A business Walter never really appreciated as anything but a paycheck.
But everything is silent now, shut down at least since Walter died, I'm guessing. I wonder if Heather told the employees anything, or if they just realized nobody was opening up anymore. Fabbri pulls me with him into one of the darkest corners behind a steamer, and points his gun towards the entrance. We can't actually see it because of all the machinery, but if anyone comes around, he'll have the jump on them.
“Be completely fucking silent, or your brains are the first I blow out. Clear?”
“Clear,” I whisper.
And then we wait.
“You're not getting out of here alive, unless you give us the girl,” Savage yells, his words echoing off the cavernous laundry hall. “We know you're fucking in here. Give her to us safe and sound, and we'll give you a head start. Otherwise, we're gonna fucking bury your ass.”
“Not a sound,” Fabbri hisses quietly.
He's the one with the gun, so I stay silent.
“They were just here,” Poe's voice echoes. “This chair's still warm. Looks like she was zip-tied.”
“You're alone, Fabbri. We saw Heather. Wasn't enough with just the husband, huh? Your bad choices are piling up, and it's time to pay the piper. Do we have to come in there after you?” Honestly, I believe Savage's offer of letting Fabbri run about as much as I believe Fabbri's lie that he's going to let me go once he's safe. I'm sure that's what Fabbri thinks too.
Is there some way that I can let them know where we are?
The steamer has a release vent, though there shouldn't be any pressure in there right now… if it was shut down properly. But if Walter was murdered and the power just shut off because no one cared? I might have a chance. But can I get at one of the vents to try?
The sounds of Crank, Poe and Savage moving around the laundry hall comes every once in a while. It's hard to pick out where they are, and they're so random and all over that I wonder if they do it on purpose to disorient us. Tossing rocks or something. It’s getting to Fabbri, whose eyes dart back and forth at every little sound as he's trying to read their location.
“Fuck,” he whispers. “Where the fuck are they?”
“Sounds like the whole MC,” I whisper back. Who knows, maybe I'm even right. I don't know how many they brought with them.
He pulls me with him, behind the steamer towards the other end, in the shadows between it and the wall. It puts us right next to the vent release, but as long as he's paying attention, I don't have a chance to test my theory. And what do I do if it doesn't work?
There's a sound to our left, then one that sounds like it's all the way at the opposite end of the hall. It makes me almost as jittery as it does Fabbri, even though I know they're friendly. In the middle of the darkness like this, everything is a little scary. And what if we actually manage to catch one of them off guard? They outnumber Fabbri, but he's dangerous until they get him.
Like fate read my mind and decided to kick me in my lady bits, a shadow moves ahead of us. Fabbri stiffens, then laughs softly.
“If you shoot, they'll all know where you are,” I whisper, just a little louder than necessary, hoping that one of the guys will catch it.
“Shut up,” he hisses back and aims.
It's now or never. Reaching out, I twist the valve as hard as I can and duck.
“What the?—?”
A sad poof of pressurized air escapes the valve. So much for that.
“Put your gun down,” demands Crank's furious voice. The shadow has turned towards the sound and as it comes closer, it just keeps getting bigger and bigger. It's easy to forget how huge Crank is until you have him coming your way threateningly. “I'm not fucking asking twice.”
I try to run.
But not fast enough. Fabbri gets his hand on my collar and makes a fist, yanking me right back against him. “Where the fuck do you think you're going?” he snarls.
Good news, the guys definitely know where we are now. Bad news, Fabbri now has his gun pressed hard enough into the spot behind my ear that I think it's going to bruise.
“If you hurt her, we're going make your death as fucking painful as we can.” Crank emerges from the shadow, still huge, but now I can see his actual face. Holy crap, he’s angry. I've gotten so used to him joking around with me that it shocks me. Those deep blue eyes aren't sparkling with fun, they're promising certain and horrific death. If it was me he was looking at like that, I'd break down and cry immediately. Even Fabbri looks uncomfortable.
And then two more shadows resolve into Savage and Poe, looking every bit as deadly. Like a triad of avenging angels, awesome and terrible.
“Fuck,” Fabbri snaps then starts pulling me back with him, in the direction of the loading dock. “Stay back, or I'm going to ventilate your girlfriend. I've got nothing left to lose.”
With his arm settled around my neck, there isn't much I can do except follow. And then the guys follow us.
It's the slowest chase ever. Fabbri backing up, me stumbling backwards to keep up and the guys keeping pace with us, all their guns trained on Fabbri's head, but not getting any closer. There has to be a way out of this. Some way to distract Fabbri long enough to… to do something. If I really am Savage's kitten, then I should have four or five lives left still, right?
The distraction turns out to be the sound of a motorcycle. Of a lot of motorcycles, the rumble coming closer and closer until it's impossible to ignore. Fabbri looks back over his shoulder, and his grip on my throat loosens just a hair. Hopefully enough.
I kick my heel up behind me, and from the pained groan, it's a direct hit. I drop, just as Fabbri's gun goes off, the bullet so close I feel a hot streak along my right cheek that burns like fire. But he loses his grip, and I continue dropping to the floor, screaming in pain all the way. Three guns go off, over and over, actually walking Fabbri backwards towards the edge of the loading dock, where a final shot that knocks his head back sends him tumbling. He lands in a laundry cart under the ramp, blood quickly seeping from his corpse and into the white cloth beneath him.
I blink, not quite believing it's over.
Crank reaches me first, sweeping me up in his arms and clutching me tight. The side of my face still burns, and I feel blood running down my neck, but right now I don't care. Nothing matters anymore except pressing myself against him and hearing the heartbeat inside his broad chest, slowing now that he knows I'm safe. And then Savage is there, and Poe, and they're touching me and squeezing me and making sure I'm okay. It's both overwhelming and wonderful.
I can finally break down into ugly sobs, which I do.
“Based on how you found Walter, there's a certain justice in this,” says Hellfire's voice, and I raise my head to see his blurry shape down by the car. Once I wipe my eyes of tears, he comes through a lot clearer, along with what has to be nearly all of the Outlaw Sons. “Guess we got here a little late, but at least we can help with the cleanup.”
Savage nods. “If you can handle that, we'd be fucking grateful. I wanna get Paige back to the club.”
“Understandable. Ghost, pick some guys and sort it out.”
Ghost nods. “Sure thing.”
Crank settles me in front of him on the way back, so he can keep his arm around me the whole time, flanked by Savage and Poe, and escorted by a dozen or more Outlaw Sons. It's like coming home a hero.