Chapter 20 #2
How in the world is my brother here? But he was. As soon as he’d taken off that helmet, and she’d seen his beloved, crooked nose—uh, her fault, by the way. An accident when she’d fallen out of a treehouse as a kid and he’d caught her and her flying foot.
As soon as she’d seen his face in that parking lot, she’d felt like she’d just gotten walloped in the stomach. Her brother should not be there. He should not be riding around on a motorcycle. And he should not be facing off with Cass while her lover held a gun.
Lover.
Her brother and her lover were about to kill each other. Talk about a nightmare situation.
“I need to read lips. Stat.” Agnes wished that she possessed his mom’s superpower.
But she didn’t know how to read lips. Not at all.
She’d just focused on learning sign language once she’d realized that she needed to team up with Cass.
And she’d only learned basics. Not like she knew how to have a whole long conversation in sign language or anything.
Ryan lifted his hands.
“No weapons,” she whispered. “So don’t shoot him, Cass.” Trust me.
“That fucker has weapons on him. He might not have them in his hands, but he has weapons.” Certainty from Javion. He was peeking out the open front door. A very slightly open front door. One he’d cracked open a few inches, the better for him to keep tabs on the scene outside.
It was a door she needed to exit.
Not like there is just one door in this place, Agnes. There has to be a back door, too. Bear had gone toward the rear of the parlor, with Raz. Bear hadn’t come back yet.
Her eyes narrowed as she watched Ryan bring his thumb to his chin.
Her breath shuddered out. Sister. He’s signing to Cass that I’m his sister.
Not like she could have blurted out that the biker closing in on the shop was her big brother.
She just didn’t trust Javion and Bear and certainly not Raz with that kind of information.
Ryan…her brother worked deep cover ops. But usually, those deep cover jobs were overseas. They involved cases with the CIA. No way should he have been posing as a—well, what was he? An MC wannabe?
Cass didn’t lower his weapon after her brother signed, and that was bad. He should have lowered the gun. Cass was supposed to trust her.
She and Cass—they needed more time alone. Time to talk. To really clear the air and share every secret that they had. It was just that, when they actually were alone, they were either, uh, fucking…or being attacked. Their locations kept being leaked.
And how in the heck did Ryan find me?
Which gave her a really, really bad feeling in her gut. Because if Ryan was there, then her other brother could not be far behind. Those two were often a package deal.
Uh, oh. “I need to get outside,” she snapped to Javion.
“Cass wants you in here.”
“Yes, but Cass doesn’t understand the full threats that he could be facing.” She only saw Ryan. Where in the heck was Nash?
Had Gray ratted her out to her brothers?
He must have. She knew Gray and Ryan had served together in the Marines.
She’d wondered on more than one occasion if Ryan had pushed Gray to bring her on the team.
It would just be like his interfering, overprotective self.
But, since she happened to like working with Gray, she’d let the matter slide.
She would not be letting anything slide again. And did Ryan have anything to do with Gray keeping quiet about the Twins being a serial killing pair? Her instincts said yes. Especially with Ryan being outside, clearly on the hunt himself.
There was a loud crash from the back of the shop. Her head turned toward the sound. Javion didn’t react to it at all. “Uh, shouldn’t you run and check that out?” And leave the front door open and unguarded for me?
He remained focused on the scene out front. “My job is to make sure you don’t get out this door. Bear can handle himself.” Then, “Shit, Cass has his gun pressed to the idiot’s chest.”
What? To her brother’s chest? After Ryan had signed that she was his sister?
No, no, no. Agnes backed away from the window, moving with silent steps.
Javion had now opened the front door wider, and the man was clearly thinking about rushing out to help Cass.
Though, from the sound of things, Cass didn’t need help.
Her brother did.
Agnes pivoted on her heel and went creeping down the hallway. She reached the storage room and—
The shop’s back door hung open.
Her gaze darted around the storage room. Raz wasn’t there. No sign of the tattoo artist. And Bear had his back to her as he braced his big hands on a nearby counter.
So, she could just slip right on out that open door, except… “Where is Raz?”
“I let him go.” Low.
What?
“Seeing as how he covered for me and kept my secrets, his job was done.”
Covered for me and kept my secrets. Shit. Shit.
“Well, not quite done. He is getting the van ready for transport.” He glanced over his shoulder. “So I guess he hasn’t really gone that far yet.”
Her darting gaze looked for a weapon even as she opened her mouth to scream.
But Bear was on her in an instant. For someone so big, he sure could move incredibly fast. One massive hand clamped down over her mouth and her nose, and the bastard cut off her air. Enraged, desperate, she kicked at him. She punched. She clawed.
“I outweigh you by an easy one fifty, FBI Agent. And, unlike Cass, I’m not fucking you, so I don’t particularly care if I hurt you.”
Newsflash, she didn’t particularly care if she hurt him, either. So her frantic fingers stopped punching and clawing at him, and she grabbed for the hammer she’d just spotted hanging on the wall near his head. She could almost reach it…almost…
“You’re gonna say night, night,” he told her.
Night, night? What was she? Two?
“And when you wake up…”
Oh, wait, she got to wake up? She’d figured he was just intending to kill her then and there.
I need air. I need to breathe. She’d almost reached the handle of that hammer. Almost…
“You’re gonna be in hell. He’s gonna stab you again and again. He’ll finish the job he started. Wants to do it personally because you have really pissed him off.”
She touched the hammer even as black dots swirled before her eyes.
“And then Cass will come and find your bloody body. Think he’ll lose his mind?”
She swung the hammer and brought it careening toward his head. I’ll make you lose your mind.
“You fucking bitch!”
His grip loosened. She fell to the floor on boneless legs and sucked in air, but she couldn’t suck in air and scream at the same time.
He plowed his big boot into her stomach, making her wretch and choke as she tried to breathe.
She swung out the hammer that she still clasped.
It hit him in the knee, and he almost went down. Hell, yes. Now she just had to—
“Night, night, bitch,” he snarled. His big hands came at her again. Slapping over her mouth and nose. No air. No freedom.
Darkness.
She didn’t even feel it when the hammer fell from her grasp.