Chapter 24
Rue
The guys managed to get Relay to sit still for a week. Then he got restless. And the others were struggling, too. They all wanted to go after Carrick.
I wished there was a way to get Ryan back without having to confront an organization like The Collective.
I had no idea what I was getting into when I first started trying to find my brother.
The MC coming into my life had certainly saved me.
There was no way, even if I’d managed to escape Rhino, Carrick would’ve allowed me to walk away.
Not with what I knew. It didn’t matter that it hadn’t been much at that time.
But then I remembered that there were so many others being victimized, other than Ryan, other than Teddy, and I knew this needed to be done.
It wasn’t enough to just save Ryan, they preyed on kids like him.
So many runaways, orphans that needed us to step in.
It just worried me to have people I’d grown to care about be those who had to go clean things up.
I still felt, partially, that this was my fault.
I knew it wasn’t, but tell that to my conscience.
I wished I was some badass fighter who could go along and have their backs, but that wasn’t me.
I was super useful when someone was hurt.
I knew my strengths and that was where I excelled.
And I was okay with that. I felt a moment of guilt there, too.
I didn’t want anyone to get hurt just so that I could be useful, I just wanted to be useful.
So I was sitting here with Mercy, watching my—and Ryan and Teddy’s—favorite trilogy, eating popcorn, and trying not to worry now that the majority of the club had walked out the door.
“Those barrels wouldn’t have stayed upright like that,” Flir pointed out, motioning toward the screen.
Strike looked over at him in disbelief. “There are dwarves riding in the damn things, orcs trying to kill said dwarves, and two elves saving their asses as they annihilate the orcs.”
“Don’t forget the hobbits,” Code added.
“So?” Flir asked, ignoring Code
“So the authenticity of the barrels is what you have a problem believing here?” Strike asked him.
Flir considered that, then shrugged. “The premise of the movie is that these beings exist in this universe. Nowhere does it explain that barrels are any different than they would be in our world.”
“You’re impossible,” Strike said with a shake of his head.
“They’re Elvish barrels,” Code said, giving me a wink.
“The designer of the barrel wouldn’t change the physics.”
“Ah, but it’s mystical Elf wood, counterbalanced with Hobbit feet,” Code argued. Under his chair he held up three fingers, then lowered one, then the other, counting down silently.
“That doesn’t…that…hmmm…” Flir rubbed his chin considering this new fact.
Strike made an exaggerated sniffing noise. “Good job, Code, you just let the smoke out of his head. You know better than to short circuit him like that.”
“With the disproportionate distribution across the bottom of the barrel… But then what about the dwarves? We never see their feet. One can assume…”
“Oh, fuck me. Don’t tell Ruck. Hopefully he’ll snap out of it, but after the dragonflies… We don’t need those physics lessons.”
Laughing, I stood. “Anyone want more popcorn?”
A chorus of yes’s followed me into the kitchen. I set the first bag into the microwave, listening to the others still arguing about the movie as it played in the background. Going to the door in the kitchen I looked out over the compound while I waited.
Movement made me gasp and I saw a shadow step into the golden glow under one of the street lamps Ruck had along the fencing. I’d recognize that face anywhere, even in the dark, covered in shadows.
“Ryan?” My phone buzzed in my hand. Looking down, I stared at the text from my brother.
Ryan: Come outside. I want to talk.
I looked over my shoulder, toward the living room. The last thing I wanted to do was something dumb, like go out into the dark on my own. But I also didn’t want Ryan to run from me again. I knew deep down my brother wouldn’t do anything to harm me.
I was so excited to finally see him, so hopeful, that I didn’t stop to ask any questions, like, how had he found me. Why he would want to talk to me now. I just wanted to see him.
Hoping I was right and this wasn’t a mistake, I stepped outside. The air was still warm from earlier that day and I hesitated before moving closer to my brother. “Ryan?”
He didn’t say anything. Didn’t move.
Was something wrong?
I crept forward, wondering what was going on.
It wasn’t until I got a few arm’s lengths away that I saw his bulging eyes and realized he was trying to shout from behind the gag in his mouth.
He was trying to warn me. I understood the next thing he said even though it was mangled by the cloth shoved between his lips. Run.
Backing up, I turned to do just that and slammed into someone.
I gasped as I looked up into the stranger’s face.
His grin was malicious and I knew that I’d fucked up.
Coming out here to meet Ryan had been dumb and idealistic.
My brother would never hurt me, but this group he’d found himself tangled up with had no problem doing so.
They would never let one of the kids out of their sight.
They would never give up that control over them.
I didn’t hesitate. My hand balled up and I punched him straight in the dick.
I may not be as good of a fighter as the former military men I’d found myself living with, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t make them regret coming after me.
Even if they overpowered me I was going to make them walk away with some marks to remember who I was.
Mementos, as Relay called them. As many as I could give.
The way he grabbed himself and crumpled to the ground was incredibly gratifying. I didn’t want to leave Ryan behind, tied up and unable to do anything, but I also wasn’t about to let The Collective have me without a fight.
Someone came at me from the darkness, and I let out a blood curdling scream as I ran. Normally, I wasn’t the screaming type, but it was the only way for me to alert the others inside that something was wrong.
The kitchen door burst open—probably without the use of a door knob—and Strike and Flir came out like demons, eyes focused, mouths grim as more men appeared around us in the dark. I ran toward them, my eyes widening as I realized there’d been men waiting alongside the building. “Watch out!”
Strike went down without a sound as someone hit him in the head from behind with a gun and Flir began firing at the rest of the men attacking him.
He was outnumbered. Grabbing a hammer off one of the saw horses sitting in front of the apartment building, I let it fly.
I watched as it went end over end and let out a sigh of relief as the claw embedded in one of the men’s thighs.
All those nights of axe throwing at a local place had paid off.
I’d thought it was stupid the first time Ryan had asked to go. Now I was glad he had.
Slamming into one of the men beating on Flir as he fought off the others, I hitched myself up, riding him like he was a damn bull.
The man looked over his shoulder at me like I was insane. Maybe I was, but I wasn’t about to let them attack Flir without helping. And I was worried about Strike, who hadn’t moved yet from where he’d fallen. Head wounds were no small matter.
A growl split the night and we all looked over.
Eyes were glowing in the dark and light flashed off a pair of sharp fangs.
I’d likened the guys to demons earlier, but if anyone looked like one now, it was Norman at that moment.
Only he was no demon, he was my avenging angel.
He charged, the hair on his back standing straight up.
He was pissed that these men were coming after me. His teeth sank into the man’s calf.
The scream nearly shattered my eardrum since my face was so close to this guy’s as he shrieked.
I needed to use the opening that Norman had given me.
Using the side of my palm, I chopped at the man’s neck, hitting him in the carotid sinus.
It was an excellent pressure point that, when hit hard enough, had drastic effects.
Hitting someone there caused their blood pressure to drop and the man’s eyes rolled into the back of his head as he dropped.
I didn’t move fast enough and ended up underneath him.
I may not be a fighter per say, but I’ve had to cheat many times to subdue an unruly patient in an ambulance.
Grunting, I shoved his body off mine. Norman had already spun away and was chasing another man off into the darkness, leaving only three ganging up on Flir.
Only three. I grabbed the downed guy’s gun and aimed it at one of the men who was far enough away from Flir that I didn’t have to worry about hitting my new friend.
I pulled the trigger and held my breath as blood spread over the man’s chest.
He’s a bad guy. He’s a bad guy. He’s-
“Run!” Flir growled at me.
I hesitated. I couldn’t leave him. Couldn’t leave Strike. Norman. The others.
“Go!”
Turning, I stumbled to my feet and ran. My hand was on the door handle when someone grabbed me from behind. I fought, sinking my teeth into his arm, as I struggled in his hold.
His swearing was like music to my ears, but that didn’t stop him from dragging me to a vehicle, tying my hands with rope, and bodily tossing me into the trunk of the car.
The landing knocked the breath out of me and I couldn’t even make a sound as he slammed the lid shut.
I was just gaining the ability to breathe again when the trunk opened and they tossed my brother in on top of me.
Wheezing, I wiggled out from under him. He was shifting, trying to get to the bottom of the trunk so he wasn’t crushing me, but neither of us had the use of our hands or feet. That made it difficult.
“Oh my God, Ryan, are you okay?”
He eyeballed me and said something that was completely muffled behind the gag.
“Right. Sorry.”
The car started up and we both fell silent as it pulled away from the clubhouse.
I hoped like hell that Strike and Flir were okay.
That Code, and especially Mercy, were hiding somewhere and hadn’t been found.
That nothing bad had happened to my dog during that fight.
I hated the idea that The Collective was taking me to use as bait, but I didn’t want anyone else to be used either.
Sighing, I settled in for the ride to wherever we were going.
I would use the time to ready myself to fight again.
I’d never stop. Not until we were free, or dead.
OD’s smile flashed through my mind and I had to mentally shove it to the side so that I didn’t get distracted.
Thinking about him finding my dead body made the breath clog up inside my lungs.
I didn’t want to die. Not when I finally had something to live for.
Someone to live for. I never even worked up the courage to tell him I loved him.
I’d get that chance. It was a promise I planned to keep.