Chapter Thirty-Two #4
Silence settles over the warehouse once more, long enough that I can almost hear Calloway counting everything he’s about to lose.
His career.
His influence.
His money.
His future.
Finally, his eyes return to me. “And if I refuse?”
I wake the tablet screen with a tap of my finger. The cursor blinks patiently beside the ‘Send’ button. “One keystroke.” My voice barely rises above conversational. “The country’s reading this before you’ve cleared the front gate.”
Nobody speaks.
Calloway’s shoulders lower a fraction.
Not surrender, but acceptance.
His hand reaches for the pen. “I’ll need my attorneys.”
Sin slides it another inch across the table. “You’ll need them tomorrow.”
Another long silence stretches between us before the pen finally touches paper. Its scratch across the first page seems louder than the gunshot did.
Then the second, then the third.
One signature after another.
By the time he sets the pen down, the fight has gone out of him completely.
Sin gathers the paperwork into a neat stack, glancing over each signature before closing the folder.
Only then does Sin rise to his feet.
Calloway looks up at him, the arrogance he’d walked into the warehouse wearing replaced by something that looks a whole lot closer to exhaustion. “That’s it?”
Sin’s fingers hook around the front of his cut, gripping the leather on either side of his chest as he studies the senator for a long moment. “No.” A faint smile touches the corner of his mouth. “That’s all I’m willing to do today.”
The words settle over the room, heavy enough that Calloway holds his gaze for another second before giving the smallest nod.
Calloway pushes his chair back and rises, tugging the torn sleeve of his jacket into place out of habit more than hope.
No hand is offered.
No farewell exchanged.
Sin gives a slight tilt of his head toward the warehouse door. “We’re done.”
Calloway’s gaze drifts briefly to the two men still zip-tied against the support beams before settling back on Sin. “My security?”
“They’re breathing.” The answer hangs between them.
It isn’t the answer Calloway wanted, but it is the only one he’s getting.
After a long moment, he turns and walks toward the roller door, the sound of polished shoes against concrete echoing through the warehouse until it gives way to the slam of an SUV door outside.
Seconds later, the engine turns over, headlights sweep across the open entrance, and he disappears into the night.
Bear rolls his neck, the tension finally easing from his shoulders. “Well…”
Nitro lets out a low chuckle. “That was worth getting dressed for.”
Koa snorts, rubbing absently at the shoulder that took the guard’s tackle. “You always say that after a fight.”
“Because I’m usually right.”
Slate pushes back from the table with the slow ease that seems to come naturally to him, dragging a hand through his beard. “Reckon he ain’t sleepin’ much tonight.”
I slide the tablet into my bag. “No.” A small smile pulls at the corner of my mouth. “He won’t.”
We start packing up the room, chairs scraping across the concrete as brothers gather folders, weapons, and the last of the evidence.
The two guards are still zip-tied where we left them.
So is Ryan Gilbert.
The difference is they’re looking anywhere but at us, but Ryan never takes his eyes off me.
I wander over, sliding my hands into my pockets.
“You boys forgetting something?” Ryan snaps.
I look him up and down. “No.”
His expression falters. “I can’t stay here!”
I shrug as if it doesn’t bother me at all, and honestly, I don’t give a shit about this prick one little bit. “Looks perfectly respectable to me.”
“What?” His eyes widen in shock.
“I’ll send somebody for you tomorrow.”
He jerks his head back as though I have personally attacked him. “Tomorrow?”
I shrug. “Depends.”
“Depends on what?”
“How busy we are.”
For the first time all night, genuine panic flashes across his face. “You can’t just leave me here!”
“Oh, but I can.” I glance around the warehouse. “Looks pretty comfortable.”
“Ghost!”
I turn away. “Sleep well, Ryan.”
Behind me, his voice follows us across the concrete. “You can’t do this!”
Nobody answers, and by the time we reach the bikes, he’s shouting.
Threats first.
Then demands.
Finally, “Don’t leave me here!”
I glance back at the two security guards who are also left in the building, but they have much more composure than asshole Ryan. I smirk, then slide my leg over my ride.
Engines fire one after another, the familiar thunder of Defiance filling the night air. I start my ride and glance back once through the open warehouse door.
Ryan is still yelling, still fighting the zip ties.
“He’ll be fine ’til morning,” Bear says over his idling bike.
I shrug. “Probably.”
Nitro smirks. “Think he’ll need to piss before then?”
“Guess he’ll find out.”
Laughter rolls through the parking lot as Sin kicks his bike to life and looks over the line of brothers. “Let’s go home.”
The club rolls out together, headlights cutting through the darkness as Ryan’s shouting fades behind us, swallowed by the rumble of engines.
Until there’s nothing left to hear.