Chapter Ten
Stupid, stupid, stupid.
When was she going to trust her instincts?
She knew something was off when Violet came to her apartment.
At the very least, she should have told Evander where she was going.
As soon as they got to the club, the truth was obvious.
Everything was a trick to get her to the club.
She wasn’t sure why at first until she heard the men talking.
They wanted Evander. He didn’t know where she was, so they couldn’t hurt him. That was one consolation for her miserable predicament. There was a small army of thugs hiding in the back rooms. She counted at least nine of them, but only two stayed guard in the main club with them.
The one with the beard seemed to get a thrill from hurting her, but she refused to cry and give him the satisfaction. Inside, she was a mess, barely holding onto her sanity. She felt the heavy weight of hopelessness crushing down—not just for her, but for everyone, even Guy. This was so unfair.
Callie had never really thought about life and death much.
Life was a game of survival and she was only twenty-one.
However, being held against her will by such ruthless animals sent a new kind of fear and desperation racing through her nerves.
Her body shook as if chilled but it was only the fear threatening to take control.
“Are you okay?” whispered Leah.
Callie nodded. The asshole had punched her right in the jaw when she initially fought back. She hadn’t tried again. No one had ever hurt her like that before. She’d been sitting quietly ever since, too afraid to make waves and test how far they could go.
Even now she tasted her own blood in her mouth, but she didn’t feel the pain. Not with so much adrenaline flooding her system.
“Shut up over there.” One of the men guarding them stomped over and kicked Leah where she was sitting so she toppled back.
“Leave her alone!” Callie shouted, the weight of fear suddenly lifting as she worried for her older friend. “She didn’t do anything!”
“Brave now, are you, little bitch? You’re lucky he wants you alive.
” He grabbed her hair in his fist, making her eyes water.
She winced but refused to cry out. Then he attacked her, the weight of his body crushing the air out of her.
Everything was a blur. She fought back, struggling to push him off her.
Instead of fighting, he only rolled to his back. Completely still.
Callie sat up and noticed the stream of crimson blood leaking out from under his head, making her scurry backward with her hands and feet. When had he hit his head? Did she do that?
“Is he dead?” She wasn’t sure if it was a question or not. Nothing made sense, especially when the door from the back room opened and the sound of gunshots echoed in the large bar. She put her hands over her ears.
“Over there! The back stairs!” one of the men from the larger group yelled to the others, gun in his hand as he rushed past them. She was grateful their attention was on something else.
The lights flickered from their heavy footfalls, but the electricity had always been in bad shape at the club. The old disco ball over the stage swung as the men ran around, the glittered light highlighting the madness.
More gunshots, bullets ricocheting off the walls, plaster crumbling down, making her afraid to get caught in the crossfire.
She peered at the back where they were running, and that’s when she saw him step out of the shadows.
She couldn’t describe how she felt. The closest thing would be serenity. Peace.
At first, she was glad Evander wasn’t with her because she didn’t want these kidnappers to hurt the man she’d grown to love.
But now, she knew that fear was unwarranted.
Even though he’d told her point blank that he was a hitman, it was hard to imagine.
He was so patient and gentle when they were together.
There was nothing about him that inspired fear in her.
She could only ever feel his adoration. But the man she saw now was something else.
There was a darkness in his eyes, the kind that didn’t discriminate, didn’t feel, or offer mercy. A devil.
He didn’t look fazed as he walked straight toward her, barely looking away. There was intent in each confident step. The men initially hadn’t noticed him, passing by to the back of the club. One caught sight of him.
“He’s here! In the club!” the man shouted.
Evander turned slightly and crossed his farthest arm across his body, immediately shooting the man in the forehead.
He dropped down heavily to the concrete.
Callie dared to glance at the dead man beside her on the ground.
The blood had spread out now, almost reaching where she was sitting.
Evander must have shot him. She scurried backward a bit more.
The group of men had all returned now, guns drawn as they sought out Evander. What had he done to piss them off so much?
There was no way Evander could take on so many men. Her heart began to race with the possibility he wouldn’t get out of this alive. Maybe none of them would.
“I knew you’d show up,” one of the men said. He drawled the words, no sense of urgency in the way he came forward either. “I knew you’d never fall for a piece of pussy. Where is it?”
Evander laughed, but the sound was anything but funny. “I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about. Your mistake was thinking you could put your hands on my woman and expect to live another day.”
The man scoffed. “You think you’re a threat? Look around you. You’re outnumbered, outgunned, and you’re just fucking done.”
“Like I said, I could have let things go, but you went too far. Crossed a line. I can’t forgive that,” said Evander. “There’s blood on her face.”
“And?”
“Get ready to bleed.” Evander dropped down with speed and stealth, immediately taking out the legs of at least three men with his gun. There was a chorus of screams, thugs dropping down and rolling in agony.
Everyone scattered, bullets flying again. She kept low, huddled close to the other captives as they tried not to get shot.
“Get the girl!” The man who’d argued with Evander pointed in her direction.
She began to hyperventilate, not sure where to go or what to do as another man ran to her.
Callie’s entire body was frozen in fear, like being in a nightmare and unable to react.
She wished today was just as easy to wake up from.
****
Evander was going to annihilate every bastard in the club.
The story of the massacre would be a warning for anyone planning to fuck with him, and more importantly, not to involve Callie.
She was sweet innocence, and the anger for these men rivaled the anger he felt for himself allowing her to get caught up in the middle of this bullshit.
She didn’t deserve this, didn’t sign up to have a target constantly on her head.
But he still wasn’t letting her walk away. He was obsessed to the point of insanity. No other man would have Callie but him.
He reached in his chest holster and grabbed a new clip, immediately dispatching a few more of them.
The one he wanted most was Byron, the shit who’d led Callie here in order to get to him.
He knew about the crime lord in his line of work.
He was surprised he targeted him at all. They weren’t enemies.
Someone came up behind him, wrapping a thick arm around his neck, trying to overpower him.
Evander didn’t know fear, never had until Callie, but still had none for his own well-being.
He grabbed the blade in his belt and sliced the fucker’s arm, then turned and slashed his throat deep enough to scrape bone. He kicked him back and he collapsed.
Another was already charging forward. Evander used his 9mm to take him out. He always preferred head shots because going for the heart left room for mistakes, especially if they were vested.
“Byron! Stop hiding like a little cunt.”
As soon as the guns started firing, he went into hiding. Evander wouldn’t stop until his hands were covered in his blood. He’d whisper Callie’s name into his ear as life ebbed away, reminding him where he’d gone wrong. This was too easy.
Then he saw Callie being hoisted up to her feet by one of Byron’s men, using her as a shield as he backed away toward the rear room. The calm that had controlled his actions faded away, leaving a mix of fear and undiluted rage. No one touched his woman and lived.
“Evander!” she called out.
“I’m coming, baby.”
The remaining hitmen used his distraction to swarm him, attempting to take him down.
It only empowered him. He grabbed a new blade from the sheath at his back and started slaughtering them, stabbing well beyond necessary.
When he dropped the blade, he used his hands, breaking necks and punching so hard, they passed out from the impacts.
When they were all down, he stood up, blood soaking his sleeves and hands. He took a cleansing breath, grabbed his gun, and finished them all off, just in case. He never made mistakes when it came to killing. It’s what he was born to do.
Then his head whipped to the side to catch that shit entering a back room. Fuck. He didn’t like Callie being alone with anyone. She needed to be safe, not a pawn in a game she wasn’t supposed to be in.
“Callie!” he chanted as he walked to the door. “Callie!”
As he neared, a bullet came through the door, leaving a hole behind.
He stood to the side, listening, waiting.
Then he quickly turned, kicked the door with his booted foot, and charged in with disregard.
Immediately, he aimed and shot the man holding Callie right between the eyes.
It’s not a shot he would have trusted anyone to take but himself.
The man started to go down, so Evander rushed forward to catch Callie.
She was screaming and probably had ringing ears because she was so close to the impact. He held her close, a profound sense of relief washing over him.
“I’ve got you, baby.” She felt so good in his arms. Safe.
Callie just kept crying, burying her face in his chest. It was completely normal for what she’d been through. He’d seen it a hundred times. The shock, the uncontrollable wave of emotion after witnessing such horrors. Horrors he was immune to.
Byron was still in the club. They weren’t safe until he was eliminated. Not just today but in the future. He didn’t want them living their lives with that threat hanging over them.
“I’ve got to get you out of here,” he whispered against her hair.
She shook her head. “Don’t leave me.”
“Never.”
“The others. Leah and Guy and the rest of the staff.”
“I’ll take care of everything. I promise. Right now, you have to trust me. You have to listen to what I tell you, okay?”
She nodded but he knew the last thing she wanted to do was be strong right now. And when this was over, he’d make sure he took care of her properly.
He led her to the metal emergency door at the back, pushing it open and scanning the back with his handgun.
Fuck, it wasn’t even night. It was easy to forget being inside the windowless club.
The blood covering him was brilliant in the sunlight.
He usually killed in the shadows, the darkness, not like this.
“Look over there. You see those two cars? Go sit on the ground right between them. Don’t move. Just wait for me. Can you do that, baby? He wants me, not you. You’ll be okay.”
She nodded again, walking away shakily. He watched, scanning the entire area as she made her way to the other parking lot. Once she was out of sight, he returned to the club, letting the heavy door close behind him.
He smiled. With his woman out of danger now, these assholes were going to know pain. Byron and any of his men left breathing were about to beg for death. He knew hundreds of ways to kill a man, and every excruciating method of torture. It’s why they paid him top dollar when he took a contract.
He wiped his bloody hands on his pants and pulled out a new 9mm out of his holster, checking the clip before reentering the main club.