CHAPTER 6 THE SAFEHOUSE CONFRONTATION #3
The monitors flickered again, casting jagged shadows across the safehouse floor. Gabriel Shaw moved before the static cleared, his hand closing around Evelyn Crane's wrist. "We're leaving." His grip was iron, the kind that left bruises even when he wasn't trying.
Evelyn twisted against him, her boots scuffing the concrete. "Like hell we are."
Dario Vitale didn't step between them. He didn't have to. His voice cut through the tension like a blade. "Gabriel." Just the name, nothing more. A warning.
Gabriel didn't let go. "She's not staying here. Not with them." His jaw was tight, his shoulders rigid. He wasn't asking.
Maya Torres shifted her weight, her Glock still trained on the door, but her attention split now. "You don't get to make that call."
Evelyn yanked her arm hard enough to make Gabriel stagger. "I'm not some fucking package you can move around." She backed toward the monitors, putting space between them. The blue light made her look ghostly, her reflection fractured in the cracked screens.
Gabriel took a step forward, his boots heavy on the concrete. "You don't know what you're walking into."
"Neither do you," Dario said. He didn't raise his voice. He didn't need to.
Gabriel's hand flexed at his side, fingers curling like he was already imagining the fight. "I'm not leaving her here."
Maya's gun didn't waver, but her finger slid to the trigger guard. "Try to remove her, and you'll be leaving in pieces."
The air smelled like ozone and old dust. Somewhere behind the monitors, a fan whirred, struggling against the heat. Evelyn's pulse hammered in her throat, but she didn't look away from Gabriel. "You don't own me."
Gabriel's expression darkened. "This isn't about ownership."
"Then what is it about?" Dario asked.
Gabriel didn't answer. His silence was answer enough.
Maya exhaled sharply. "Stand down, Shaw. Or I put you down."
For a second, no one moved. Then Gabriel's shoulders dropped, just slightly. Not surrender. Not yet. But the fight wasn't worth the cost. Not here. Not now.
Evelyn didn't relax. She knew better.
Dario watched them both, his gaze unreadable. The monitors flickered again, casting his face in jagged light. The safehouse wasn't safe anymore. Not for any of them.
And outside, the city waited.
Gabriel’s fingers twitched, his knuckles pale where he’d clenched them too tight. The tension in the room was a live wire, sparking between them all. He took another step toward Evelyn, slow, deliberate, like a hunter cornering prey.
She held her ground, chin lifted. "You touch me again, and I’ll break your fingers." The words were quiet, measured. No bluff in them.
Maya adjusted her stance, the barrel of her Glock dipping toward Gabriel’s knee. "Last warning."
Dario moved then, finally, stepping into Gabriel’s path. Not blocking him—just there, close enough to force a decision. "You’re smarter than this."
Gabriel’s laugh was a rough scrape of sound. "Am I?" His gaze flicked to Evelyn, then back to Dario. "She doesn’t understand what’s coming."
"Then explain it," Dario said.
The monitors hissed, a burst of white noise filling the silence. Evelyn didn’t wait for Gabriel’s reply. She reached behind her, fingers brushing the edge of the desk where a backup pistol lay hidden under a stack of files. Her grip closed around the grip.
Gabriel saw it. His mouth twisted. "You’d really shoot me?"
"Try me," Evelyn said.
Maya’s finger brushed the trigger again, but her eyes darted to Dario. A silent question.
Dario didn’t react. He kept his focus on Gabriel. "Walk away."
For a heartbeat, it looked like Gabriel might. Then his hand shot out, not toward Evelyn this time, but for the gun in Maya’s grip.
Maya twisted, swinging the Glock up, but Gabriel was faster. His forearm cracked against hers, knocking the weapon sideways. It discharged, the shot ricocheting off the concrete wall with a deafening crack.
Evelyn ducked, the pistol in her hand coming up instinctively. She didn’t fire. Couldn’t. Not with Dario in the line of sight.
Gabriel used the distraction to lunge for her. His shoulder slammed into her ribs, knocking her back into the monitors. Glass cracked under her weight. The sharp scent of burnt circuits filled the air.
Dario moved like lightning, catching Gabriel by the collar and yanking him backward. Gabriel stumbled, but he didn’t go down. He spun, swinging a fist at Dario’s jaw.
Dario dodged, but not fast enough. The punch grazed his temple, sending him reeling.
Maya swore, scrambling for her gun where it had skidded across the floor. Evelyn pushed off the monitors, her own weapon steady now. "Enough!"
Gabriel froze, chest heaving. His lip was split, blood smearing his chin. He looked at Evelyn, at the gun in her hands, and something in his face fractured.
Dario wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "You done?"
Gabriel didn’t answer.
Outside, a siren wailed in the distance. Too close.
The safehouse was blown.
And so were they.
Evelyn didn't lower the gun. The barrel stayed leveled at Gabriel's chest, her finger resting alongside the trigger guard. The warehouse air smelled of concrete dust and the sharp tang of copper from Dario's split lip.
"You don't get to walk back in here and dictate terms," she said.
Gabriel's hands were raised, but his expression hadn't surrendered. "I'm trying to keep you alive."
Maya had her weapon trained on him now too, stance wide, breathing controlled. "You lost the right to call shots when you disappeared for six months."
Dario wiped blood from his mouth with the back of his hand. His knuckles were already darkening where he'd connected with Gabriel's jaw. "You're a liability now. That's the math."
A muscle jumped in Gabriel's jaw. Evelyn recognized the tell—suppressed frustration, the same one he'd had when the Council first tried to bench him years ago. The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, throwing harsh shadows across the shipping manifests scattered on the floor.
"I can still get you the intel on the shipment routes," Gabriel said.
Evelyn exhaled through her nose. "And what's your price this time?"
"No price."
Maya snorted. "Bullshit."
Gabriel's gaze locked onto Evelyn. "You think I'd let them use you as bait?"
Dario stepped forward. "You don't have a say."
Evelyn felt the weight of the gun in her hand, the cold metal against her palm. She'd carried it since the night Gabriel left. Since the night she'd woken to an empty bed and a note with three words: Don't follow me.
She lowered the weapon.
"Get out."
Gabriel went still. "Ev—"
"I said get out." Her voice didn't shake. "You don't get to vanish and then waltz back in like nothing happened. You don't get to decide what risks I take."
Dario's phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen, then at Maya. She gave a tight nod, adjusting her grip on her pistol.
Gabriel's hands flexed. "The Morettis are using you."
"And you did what, exactly?" Evelyn snapped. "Left me scrambling for scraps while you played lone wolf. You don't get to protect me by abandoning me."
The overhead lights flickered. Somewhere in the warehouse, a pipe dripped, the sound sharp and irregular against the silence.
Gabriel's shoulders dropped half an inch. "When they come for you—"
"They already are," Evelyn said. "And you're not on the board anymore."
Maya jerked her chin toward the exit. "Walk. Or I make it a formal discharge."
Gabriel looked at Evelyn a beat too long. Then he turned and walked toward the loading bay doors. His boots scuffed against the concrete, kicking up fine gray dust.
Dario watched him go, then thumbed his phone screen. "We have forty minutes before the next patrol sweep."
Evelyn holstered her gun. Her hands were steady. The warehouse door clanged shut behind Gabriel with finality.
Maya exhaled. "He's going to be a problem."
Evelyn picked up one of the scattered shipping manifests. The paper was crisp under her fingers, the ink smudged in one corner. "Let him try."
Dario's mouth curled at the edge. Not quite a smile. "Now that's my girl."
Outside, an engine turned over. Tires bit into gravel as Gabriel's car peeled away. Evelyn didn't look up from the manifest.
Some ties weren't meant to hold.
The warehouse settled into an uneasy quiet, the hum of the fluorescents now the only sound.
Evelyn traced a line of text on the manifest with her thumb, the numbers blurring slightly as she stared.
Maya holstered her weapon and crouched to gather the rest of the scattered papers, her movements efficient, deliberate.
Dario pocketed his phone and nudged a loose crate with his boot. "Patrol's early tonight. They're spooked."
Evelyn folded the manifest sharply along its crease. "Then let's give them a reason."
Maya stood, stacking the papers neatly. "We still hitting the docks?"
"Unless you've got a better idea." Evelyn's tone left no room for debate.
Dario cracked his knuckles, the sound loud in the stillness. "Moretti's boys won't be expecting us to move before dawn."
"Exactly." Evelyn tucked the folded manifest into her jacket. "They think we're licking our wounds."
Maya's lips thinned. "Or they think we're desperate."
A slow, humorless smile spread across Evelyn's face. "Good."
The three of them moved toward the side exit, footsteps echoing. Dario shouldered the door open, letting in a gust of damp night air. The alley beyond was narrow, cluttered with broken pallets and rusted chains.
Maya checked her watch. "Thirty-seven minutes."
Evelyn didn't answer. She stepped into the alley, the streetlight casting long shadows ahead of them. Somewhere in the distance, a siren warbled, then cut off abruptly.
Dario fell into step beside her. "You sure about this?"
She didn't break stride. "Were you?"
He chuckled, low and rough. "Fair enough."
Maya took point, her silhouette sharp against the sodium glow. The docks weren't far. The shipment wasn't everything, but it was a start.
And Evelyn had always been good at starting over.