Chapter 37 Catfish #2
Wraith shakes his head. “Fucker knows we’re not going to let them go. He better be ready.”
After all the stops and starts on the way, we arrive at the warehouses in a convoy. But Wraith parks up far enough away that the rumble of the trucks shouldn’t make it to where Chase is.
“Where the fuck do we start?” Wraith grumbles.
“Find my truck; he won’t have wanted to drag Wren far,” I say.
With weapons raised, we move stealthily through the compound. While my gut tells me to just run, to storm through every door, I know that won’t help us.
We weave through the site, but I lead us toward the rear of the property. If I had to park a truck in hope of not being seen, that’s where I would do it. I reach the end of the warehouse and peer around the corner before snatching my head back.
Grudge comes and stands next to me, taking his own look. “Warehouse four it is,” he whispers.
There’s the familiar sound of weapons being checked, safeties removed.
“We search in twos,” Grudge says. “One on one is a risk. Classic stalemate if he has a gun to Wren’s head. In twos, we stand a chance.”
He orders, “Catfish and Atom. Jackal and Shade. Smoke and Wraith. I’ll go with Taco.”
I don’t wait to hear the rest of the instructions. We move.
“There,” Jackal says. “Footprints. Longer stride for him. Shorter for Wren. To that door.”
I try to ignore the gut-wrenching agony induced by seeing that, occasionally, their footsteps turn into drag marks. But when I see the blood drops on the snow, I turn and throw up. I wipe my mouth on the back of my sleeve.
Grudge tries the door, and the handle gives.
Once inside, we split; Atom and I follow the blood and take the stairs immediately facing us.
I need to find Wren, because I want the life we planned. Turning the ranch house into our home. Giving Wren a safe place where they can do all those things they wanted to do.
I remember what they said in the kitchen.
Once this is all over, I want to sit somewhere quiet.
Get some rest. Eat good food. Get back into the habit of hitting the gym because my routine has been a mess for the last month.
Maybe get a dog I can walk every morning to get outside.
Ride Blaze, if you’ll let me. Then, get a blank piece of paper and plot out what the rest of my life looks like.
But it doesn’t look like this. I mean, it involves technology.
That’s my skill. But something different. Maybe build something people need.
“Just fucking fight, Wren,” I mutter.
We make our way into the upper hallway, continuing our search.
I was hoping it would be a large open-plan mezzanine overlooking the warehouse, but it’s a kick in the gut to realize it’s lots of offices off a long hallway.
Now would be a real good time for my mom’s lifetime commitment to crystals and sigils and mantras to kick in.
I remember the crystal she gave me that’s still in the pocket of my jacket, and I take half a second to pat it.
And as I do, I see a sliver of light from beneath the door of one of the offices.
It lasts less than a second before it’s off again.
“Wren’s there,” I say.
“You sure?” Atom whispers.
“Just saw a light go on and off.”
“I’ll let the others know.” Atom pulls out his phone and types a quick message.
Don’t let this be the end. Don’t let this be all my life adds up to.
I want our fucking future. Wren and me. A hundred years from now won’t be enough.
Suddenly, Wren screams.
And God, it’s never sounded so fucking good. Because it means they’re alive.
But…fuck…
I run to the office and shove the door wide open. With Atom to my right, I move to the left.
Wren is sitting tied to a wooden chair at an ugly round table. Chase is behind them. Gun to their head.
Their shirt is ripped open. And the fucker has tried to remove Wren’s binder with a knife but only got part way before we disturbed him.
There’s a large patch of blood, a bright red comma on Wren’s skin, just below their shoulder.
Relief that Wren’s alive, and fury that they’re hurt intertwine; I know Wren would hate to be exposed like this.
“Chase,” I say.
He registers me and Atom. But the smile on his face is sly, practiced. “You bikers and your theatrical entrances.”
Footsteps flood the room behind me.
“Is now the right time?” Shade asks Wren.
Wren nods, knowing exactly what Shade means. And so do I.
The files Wren compiled and set up for distribution.
He pulls out his phone. He’s going to hit the detonate button on the files.
“Is now the right time for what?” Chase asks. His facial expression flickers annoyance that we’re interrupting him. Over his shoulder, I can see images of Wren on the wall. There are lines of computer code and printouts of different profiles I’m guessing belong to them.
Shade nods to tell me it’s done.
“Look at me. Not him. Not Wren,” I say as I move away from my brothers. “We’re gonna have a conversation, you and me.”
“I’m sorry about your truck,” he says calmly. “It was the only way.”
Like I give a fuck about him taking my truck, but there’s something so disassociated in the way he says it. As if it was a minor inconvenience to me that he stole, rather than a massive deal that he kidnapped a person. My person. I realize he’s too far gone to reason with.
“Yeah. I’m pissed you jacked my truck.”
Wren looks at me. Their pupils are too big, their breathing too labored. “Don’t hurt him…or you…can’t…end this.”
Fuck me. I didn’t realize how hard it would be to not do that.
I raise my hand to the others and encourage them to lower their weapons. And it’s enough of a distraction for Chase that Wren manages to clumsily find enough force to stand and knock the gun right out of his hands with their skull.
Shade, Atom, and I all charge. Wren falls face first to the ground, still tied by their hands and feet to the chair. I lunge for them, tugging them to me, and use my knife to cut the ropes. Atom and Shade wrestle Chase to the floor.
“Don’t hurt him,” Wren shouts. “We can’t make this work if he’s bruised.”
Atom grabs the wooden chair Wren was tied to, spins it over Chase’s neck and arms, and then sits on it, effectively trapping him without any force. His dress shoes scrape on the floor as he claws at the chair spindle that runs across his chest.
My hands curl into fists, but I listen to Wren’s orders, as much as I want to kick the teeth right out of Chase’s mouth. “Maybe we just take him out into the mountains and bury him. No one will find him until spring.”
Jackal stands by me. “The FBI will keep looking for him if they can’t find him. We need to hand his body back to them so they stop.”
“And I already sent all those files,” Shade says.
“What…files?” Spit flies from Chase’s mouth as he tries to speak.
I shake my head. “Wren gained access to all your files, compiled then, and we just distributed them.”
“Wren’s protecting me,” Chase gloats, the spindle of the chair desperately close to his throat.
“No,” Wren says. The single word is as sharp as a blade. “I’m protecting us from you. It’s disappointing not to see what he would do to you for daring to touch me.”
Smoke runs over to where I’m holding Wren, takes one look at the blood on their chest, then pulls out his phone. “Butcher, where’s Greer and her medical unit?”
“Wren,” Chase pleads.
Wren shakes their head. “Here’s how this ends: You will not have bruises. You will not be our victim before you die. Neither will you get to write a heroic last act where you go out in self-righteous violence. You’ll die undecorated. Alone. And your last words will bury you.”
“I can pay you. I have the money.”
Wren sags a little in my arms. Taco finds another chair, and I help Wren sit in it. Quickly, I remove my jacket and cover them. “Sit, sweetheart. We need to get you seen by Greer.”
Wren puts their hand over their wound, blood staining their palm. “Wait. Where…is the…money?”
“Crypto wallet, on my phone,” Chase says. “All of it. You can have it. Just…let me go.”
“You should be saying your prayers. It’s your lucky day—you’re going quick, you sick fuck.” Shade shoves his hand into Chase’s pocket, pulls out his phone, puts it to his thumb, and it opens. Then, he hands it to Wren.
“What are you doing with it?” Grudge asks.
“I’m moving the funds to a holding account,” Wren says. Their hands are shaking as they work, and I fear it’s blood loss. “I can decide what…to do with it…later.”
Wraith walks over. “I found some rope.” He flips it up and over a beam in the ceiling before making a knot.
“No,” Chase shouts as Atom gets up and lifts the chair off him.
He tries to fight, but Atom simply wraps his arms around the man’s chest. Between him and Shade, two of the biggest bastards I know, they restrain him without a mark.
“Where’s Greer and Butcher?” I ask Smoke, worried about Wren.
“Twenty minutes out,” he replies. He slices a strip off his T-shirt and presses it against Wren’s wound. “We need to keep pressure on this.”
Grudge pulls all the papers off the wall. “You did what we talked about, right?” When he turns, he’s looking straight at Wren.
“I did,” Wren says.
“Good.” Grudge smiles for the first time today.
I touch Wren’s cheek. “What did you do?”
Wren smiles, then winces again. “I changed…any mention of me…And…I—”
“Save your energy,” Grudge says. “I spoke to Wren. Asked them to change their name in Chase’s files, change the Outlaws to the most lethal motorcycle club in Europe, and remove all trace of Vex and Calista. Everything else in there remains the same.”
Taco bursts in, holding a broom and a bottle of acid. “I found these. Best I can do to clean our way out and get rid of any blood.”
“We need to move,” Smoke says.
“I want…to do this,” Wren says. “I need…to.”
Wraith moves to hand them the loop he’s created. “Put it over his head, but then you need to get out of here.”
“Stop,” Grudge says, before they take it. “Wren’s leaving blood evidence if they touch it.”
“Put your hands over mine,” I say. I tug my gloves out of my pockets and put them on. I could just give Wren the gloves, but I want to help them do this.
Wren does as I say, their hands warm through the fabric.
Chase tries to move his head. “Fuck you,” he curses, spitting at me. It misses my face and lands on my shoulder.
But together, Wren and I lift the noose over his head.
“Get Wren and Catfish out of here, Wraith,” Grudge says. “You two need to go and ride towards Butcher. We’ll clean up. Trust us.”
“The blood,” Wren says.
“We’ll clean up.” Jackal reaches up and tightens the noose. “Even the stuff outside. Go. Just don’t touch anything on your way out.”
We leave the warehouse quietly. Wraith leads the way.
“I want to see him swing,” Wren says.
I support them as best I can. “I know. But we need you safe and well more.”
“It’s gonna work, River. I promise. A coroner can only guess a window of time. In twenty-four hours, they won’t be able to…guess with any accuracy.”
“I love you,” I say. “More than anything else, Wren.”
Wren sighs and smiles. “I love you too. Can we…wait until tomorrow…to celebrate this nightmare… being over?”
I nod in agreement. “I think that’s the best idea you ever had.”