17. Riley
I feelthe change in Maddoc immediately, and all the sexy, fun energy we had going between us drains from the room as his face hardens into stone.
He says a few terse words to the caller, and the whole conversation is over almost before it begins.
“What happened?” I ask when he ends the call.
He makes eye contact with me, and it’s like the whole world slows to a stop for one single, quiet second.
Whatever it is, it’s bad.
Then everything happens all at once. Maddoc surges to his feet with a grunt, hauling me up with him as the sound of Dante and Logan’s heavy footsteps thunder down the stairs.
“There’s an attack on Reaper territory,” Maddoc finally tells me as his seconds burst into the room. He shoves his phone back into his pocket and buttons his jeans, his straining erection all but forgotten as he turns grim eyes onto the others.
“Isaac called,” Logan says without preamble. “We’re going to lose six months’ worth of product if the warehouse goes.”
Adrenaline surges through my veins. Even without really understanding the details of how the Reapers operate, losing six months’ worth of anything sounds a lot like the kind of hit that would cripple a smaller organization.
Dante straps on a holster as he catches my eye. “One of our warehouses is under attack,” he explains while Logan tosses Maddoc a bulletproof vest and then brings a second one to me. “They’re trying to burn the place down, but it’s not just product. They’re also keeping our people trapped inside.”
“West Point?” I ask, my heart pounding as Logan secures the vest on me
“Has to be,” Maddoc says grimly, already heading toward the door. “And we need to get down there right the fuck now. McKenna obviously knows it’s one of our main storage depots. I upped the protection detail on it this morning, which is how they caught on before all the exits were blocked.”
“From what Isaac reported, the extra men aren’t gonna be enough to hold this shit off for long, Madd,” Dante says as he arms himself with additional weapons, making them disappear into his clothing like they’re a part of him. “This is a full assault.”
A muscle tics in Maddoc’s jaw. “I know. So fucking move.”
I hurry out to the SUV with them, my stomach in a knot but a small, secret ball of warmth underneath it all about the fact that none of them questioned my involvement this time. None of them tried to stop me, or acted like I was weak or had to be tucked away and protected.
The vest Logan zipped me into doesn’t count. If anything, it makes me feel even more like I’m a part of them.
This time, Maddoc gets behind the wheel and Dante takes the passenger seat as Logan pulls me into the back with him. He turns to me once we’re on the road and presses something cold and heavy into my hand.
A gun. Of course.
I swallow, the grim urgency permeating the car suddenly feeling all too real and immediate.
“Do you remember how to use it?” he asks, an intensity behind his pale gaze that reminds me just how much he cares about me.
It settles my nerves, and I nod. Then, hoping for one of those illusive almost-smiles of his, I say, “Just aim at anyone with one of those stupid gold rings and pull the trigger, right?”
The corner of his mouth twitches. “Exactly.” Then all humor drains from his face, and he closes his hand around mine, gripping the gun’s stock with me. “Let’s review the basics.”
He makes me run through it a few times, and once he’s satisfied, I look up and find Dante’s eyes pinned on me through the rearview mirror.
“Bottom line, kill them before they kill you, princess. That’s non-negotiable.”
I nod, my stomach clenching with nerves.
“Almost there,” Maddoc says from the driver’s seat. He turns to Dante. “Call and tell Isaac to open the big door for us. We’re coming in hot, and Vic and Amari should be right behind us.”
Dante is on the phone before Maddoc finishes speaking, and a few seconds later we’re speeding down a side street toward a warehouse that wouldn’t look out of the ordinary at all if it wasn’t on fire.
“Shit,” Maddoc snarls as a bullet ricochets off the hood of our SUV. “Hold on tight.”
My knuckles are already white from gripping the door handle and the gun Logan gave me, but I squeeze both a little tighter and close my eyes as Maddoc barrels up a small service ramp, straight into the warehouse at a speed that would have taken him right through the door if his people hadn’t managed to get it open at the last second.
“Stay down and stay away from the fucking windows,” he shouts, shielding me with his body as we get out of the vehicle.
The all-too-familiar sound of gunfire ricochets around us, and I’ve got no idea whatsoever what the game plan is here. I just know that I’m not letting my men get in the way of any of those bullets without doing whatever I can to take out the shooter.
“Vic’s gonna hold this entrance,” Dante says as Logan melts into the smoky interior, low and fast and deadly. “Amari will flush out the attackers and try to salvage the product.”
“No.” Maddoc grabs him, his face a stone mask. “People first. The fire’s spreading. We’ll take them out and deal with the rest once our men are secure.”
Dante nods sharply, then shoves Maddoc to the side and fires off a series of rapid shots at a shape I can barely make out in the dim, hazy light. The shape drops, and gunfire erupts all around us as someone—the one they call Amari, I think—starts laying down cover fire for a group of men who look familiar.
Reapers, I’m sure of it.
There are at least a dozen of them, and they give us quick nods and a few looks of relief when they see us. The smell of smoke is almost choking me, and the oxygen rushing in from the open roll-up door behind us has the flames deeper in the building roaring even higher.
I haven’t seen anyone from West Point yet, but their bullets are flying at us in a steady barrage, and I see why Maddoc had us come in. The warehouse doesn’t have a lot in the way of solid cover, and the SUV is a shield as much as a getaway vehicle.
Glass shatters somewhere overhead, shards of it raining down from the windows near the rafters, and somehow, the Reapers keep coordinating with each other through the chaos. Trying to clear an exit route for some of the Reapers that are trapped on the far side of all that gunfire.
“Stay close to me,” Maddoc says, his gun trained on the open garage door as he pulls me behind him. “They’re ramping this shit up.”
He’s right. Even I can tell that the gunfire is steadier now, the thundering roar of it almost nonstop. Suddenly, out of the smoke, I make out two guys running toward us, then another and another after that.
These aren’t Reapers. They’re coming at us with guns blazing, moving together like a well-oiled machine as they escalate the attack and make my blood run cold with fear.
“Maddoc!” I scream, tugging his arm.
He doesn’t duck; he moves in front of me. Lifts his arm and takes aim, moving in tandem with the Reapers arrayed around us.
One by one, the attackers fall back or go down, but each time, another is there to take their place.
My hand shakes, but I lift my own gun and flip the safety off, aiming past Maddoc’s shoulder. Determined to do my part to be an asset, not a liability. To help hold them back long enough to make a difference.
I shoot, and a surge of vicious satisfaction that’s almost sexual goes through me when my bullet clips one of the attackers in his shoulder, causing him to spin to the side.
But the shot he was about to take goes wild, hitting one of the Reapers near us.
Maddoc curses, and I gasp, then clamp my jaw closed and take aim again, firing at anyone and everyone with a gun pointed our way. Over and over and fucking over, until Maddoc finally drags me back to the SUV and shoves me inside.
“The roof is starting to collapse.” He turns and shouts back toward his people, “Fall back! Everyone out! Now!”
I don’t know how they hear him over the chaos of gunfire, smoke, and shouting, but they do it. Dante drags the guy who went down from that stray bullet into one of the other vehicles, and Logan dives behind the wheel of our car as Maddoc covers me with his body in the back seat.
Sirens sound in the distance, and neither Maddoc nor Logan say a word as we peel out and careen out of the parking lot, driving deeper into Reaper territory. I shove Maddoc off me and twist to peer anxiously out the window. “Dante?”
“He’s in Vic’s ride,” Maddoc answers, his voice clipped. “Got Kyle with him.”
That must be the guy who was shot. Shot because Austin felt empowered by all the money I gave him access to. Shot because my bullet threw that fucker’s aim off.
I start to shake, and Maddoc hauls me against him, the smell of smoke and gunpowder almost overpowering. “Stop it,” he says sharply, grabbing my chin. “We’re here. We’re alive.”
I nod.
His jaw clenches as he stares at me, then, with the smallest twitch of his lips, he murmurs, “This is where I get to be the overbearing asshole and you thank me for it. You’re not allowed to imagine what if. Stop. We’re here, and we’re alive. That’s the only shit that matters right now. We’ll deal with the rest in a minute.”
I nod again, but this time, I mean it. I can’t go down that what-if rabbit hole or let any kind of guilt take hold. Austin did this. He’s to blame. And everyone I care about made it out safe, which really is all that matters right now.
We pull up at another nondescript warehouse, and Maddoc gives me a short, sharp nod, then flips into leader mode. He’s out of the SUV in an instant, his shoulders subtly relaxing once he’s counted the other vehicles that tear into the lot and accounted for all his people.
Dante is standing near a low-riding car that has one side riddled with bullet holes, helping bandage up a young guy who looks vaguely familiar.
“Just got grazed, boss,” the guy calls out to Maddoc with a tired smile. “You should see what the weasel I took down looks like.”
We head over there, and Dante nudges Maddoc. “It could’ve been a lot worse. Those weren’t McKenna’s—”
“I know,” Maddoc interrupts, cutting him off sharply.
“That wasn’t West Point?” someone asks, all the Reapers starting to gather around.
“It was,” Maddoc says, his face smoothing out. “McKenna is escalating, so we’re gonna have to get a step ahead of this. Before we talk about how, I need a report on injuries and losses.”
A few of the smoke-streaked men who must have been working in the warehouse when it all started step up, and they quickly rattle off details that go over my head. Grim ones, based on Maddoc’s expression, but at least they confirm that despite some injuries, none of the Reapers are dead.
I can still see that Maddoc is fucking pissed, despite the calm facade he puts on for his people. The stress shows in that telltale jaw muscle and the tension in his shoulders, but I can’t help but admire how he holds it together and focuses on making sure his people are okay. It sounds like the loss to the Reapers’ business is going to hurt, but that’s not Maddoc’s people’s fault, and he makes that clear.
It’s no wonder they’re so loyal to him. It’s exactly why I love him too.
“How are you doing, princess?” Dante asks softly as Maddoc starts to wrap things up after reviewing the gaps in their protection that allowed the attack through.
I lean against Dante, accepting his arm around my shoulder.
“Better now,” I tell him honestly, only half listening as the men around us get their orders from Maddoc about coordinating with Logan to fortify their territory even more.
Dante squeezes me, pressing a warm kiss against my temple, then herds me into the SUV as soon as Maddoc dismisses everyone. It’s not until we’re pulling back into the garage at the house that I realize that the low thrum of tension that accompanied us on the silent drive home is about more than just the aftermath of the attack.
“We gonna talk about this?” Dante asks when Maddoc kills the engine.
Maddoc gives him a look I can’t decipher, but gets out of the vehicle and heads into the house without a word.
“What’s going on?” I ask as Dante and Logan exchange a look.
“Come on, princess,” Dante says instead of answering me, pulling me into the house with him.
Maddoc is in the kitchen, pacing.
“You cut me off back there, but you know I’m right,” Dante says without preamble. “Those weren’t McKenna’s men.”
“That was a West Point attack,” Maddoc bites out, spinning to face Dante with a dark look on his face. Then he lets out an explosive breath, shoving a hand back through his hair and leaving the brown strands messy. “Fuck. They weren’t McKenna’s usual shit-for-brains goons. You’re right about that. Those were military formations and tactics, and if I hadn’t had extra security on hand, they would have taken our people out.”
“They were mercenaries,” Logan says flatly. “Expensive ones.”
“Well, shit,” Dante says with a heavy sigh. “I was hoping you’d say I was wrong, but I guess that answers the question of what that son of a bitch is doing with all the money he stole. He’s not planning on fighting; he’s planning on rolling right over us. Strong-arming his way into our territory with a bunch of hired guns.”
My stomach plummets. Dante was kind enough not to finish that sentence.
Austin is planning on strong-arming his way into our territory with a bunch of hired guns… using the money I gave him.