Chapter 24
Chapter Twenty-Four
Bayne Hendrix gripped a knife in his right hand. He gaped at Cass. Bayne’s shoulders heaved in his battered jacket before he tried to back away.
Cass surged forward. He grabbed Bayne by the neck and hauled him close, with the gun against Bayne’s forehead. “You aren’t getting away. You ordered my lady to be kidnapped. You were ready to carve her up.” Cass remained in the van, with Bayne’s body now jerked half-way inside the vehicle.
There were shouts from behind Bayne. His men, coming to help him?
Agnes scuttled forward. Not like there was a ton of room to maneuver in the van, so she scuttled. “Your men have to stay the hell back!” she yelled. “Stay back!” Agnes ordered them. “Or we blow his brains out here and now!” She thought that sounded suitably intense.
She also thought that the words weren’t an idle threat. Cass was looking way too eager with that trigger finger of his.
And in response to her big, bad words…
Laughter.
A cold, mocking laughter that seemed to echo in the warehouse.
Cass swore. Low and viciously. She’d heard some pretty inventive cursing from him before, but this took things to a whole new level…
“Sonofafuckingghostwhorebastardwhowillbeburiedinthefuckinggroundwithhisspineinhisthroat…”
Well, okay, then.
A loud voice blasted, “Everyone, out!”
Agnes assumed the blasting voice belonged to the sonofa—well, the ghost bastard. Cass’s uncle?
Footsteps pounded as men seemingly rushed to obey that blasting voice.
Cass kept his gun pressed to Bayne’s forehead. “Gonna need you to follow my instructions,” Cass commanded him. “Gonna need you to drop the knife in your hand. Right the hell now.”
A knife that she knew Bayne had intended to use on her.
He dropped it. The knife clattered to the floor.
“Good,” Cass praised. “Now shove up the sleeves of your coat, would you? Nice and slowly.”
Bayne shoved up the left sleeve of his leather coat.
Tattoos. Knives. A skull. Thorns.
Bayne’s eyes drifted to Agnes as she pressed to Cass’s side. Her fingers were around the gun that she still concealed in the sling on her arm. “Looks like you got hurt, pretty lady,” he murmured.
“Nothing I can’t handle.”
He winked at her. “We’ll see about that.”
Her breath came faster. “Push up the sleeve on your right arm.”
“Why? Because you want definite proof that I’m the monster who ripped your world apart?” Bayne demanded.
Yes.
But…
Footsteps. Slow. And…a tapping. Slow, dragging steps and then a tap…
The second door on the back of the van was opened.
A man stood there, one hand gripping a black cane. Tall, but with his shoulders hunched forward just a bit. A hard face. Handsome but brutally cold. A face that looked far too much like an older version of Cass’s face.
Gray streaks drifted through the man’s dark hair.
Lines darted from the corners of his eyes.
And cold, hard fury showed on his face. “I’m that monster, sweetheart,” the man told her.
“I’m the one who gave the orders for the attack that night.
Bayne wanted to play my game. Had to, after my other partner was eliminated. ”
Cass sucked in a breath. “You should be dead.”
“Yes, well, for a while, felt like I was. Had to teach myself how to walk again after that shit you pulled. Shooting a man in the back…that’s a real coward move.”
“You were riding away. You were going over the edge of that cliff. You should be dead.”
The man—Winston Striker—smiled. “And yet, here we are.” One hand gripped the edge of his cane.
The other reached inside his coat and pulled out a gun.
He pointed the weapon straight at Agnes.
“I’m assuming the driver is one of yours?
When I saw him on the security feed, I knew he didn’t look like my talented tattoo artist.”
“You assume correctly,” Nash snarled. He wasn’t in the driver’s seat any longer. He was about two feet away, with his weapon pointed right at Winston. “Lower the gun,” Nash ordered. “You are not killing my sister.”
“Of course, I am. She’s been on my kill list for years. Bayne should have eliminated her that night in Texas. I’d killed my redhead, and it was his turn. He wanted in the game, wanted to take my brother’s place after Cass eliminated his own father.”
Wait, wait, wait. He was saying that Cass’s father had been in on the killings?
And that Bayne had come after Agnes because Winston had already murdered a redhead before Bayne had targeted her?
Agnes slanted a quick, worried glance at Cass.
The only emotion showing on his face was fury. Blazing fury.
“How many times do I have to say…” Bayne rasped. “I thought she was going to die?”
“The game isn’t about what you think will happen,” Winston fired right back. “It’s about getting the job done.”
What a sick, twisted bastard. “You’re seriously saying this was all just a game to you? You picked different people, then got matches for them—”
“They’re called twins, FBI Agent Quinn. Our victims needed to be perfect matches. Fit with the theme, you know.” Winston’s lips thinned.
“Your theme. Right. The stupid two-headed cobra.” Bayne hadn’t showed her his right arm. Not yet. Her heart drummed in her chest. “Lift up your sleeve!”
Bayne shoved up his right sleeve.
And it was there. Right there. The tattoo that had haunted her nightmares for years. The exact same mark. The exact same design. The swirling snake that had come for her and destroyed so much on that one brutal night.
“Your boyfriend bled out much faster than I thought he would,” Bayne admitted with zero remorse.
“He was purely for bonus points, you get that. You were the main goal. A redhead. Any redhead would have worked that night. But then I saw you. A redhead with blue eyes. A rare combination. Kinda like finding a four-leaf clover.”
Fuck yourself and your four-leaf clover. “You just picked people because of how they looked? Their hair color? Their eyes? Their—”
“No, FBI Agent Quinn,” Winston cut in. “We killed people because of how they looked. It’s called having a target. Succeeding in your mission.”
“You didn’t succeed with me.” She was worried because Cass had gone so eerily silent. Silent, but she could feel his rage thickening in the air around them.
“I’m about to succeed,” Bayne promised. “This has been a very long time coming.”
“Why?” Agnes snapped. “Why has it been so long? Why didn’t you come for me sooner? If you wanted me dead, I was there all along.” She’d wanted the bastard to come for her so that she could destroy him. Her fingers were so tight around the gun she had hidden in her sling.
Bayne laughed. “Not like you’re the only one I had to kill. You had to wait your turn.”
Sick bastard—
“And he had to follow orders,” Winston snapped. “Bayne kills when I say its time. He’s not in charge. I am.”
Bayne’s jaw tensed. “You were gone,” he muttered to Winston.
“I’m not gone any longer. And you’re not in charge. I am. I am the one who directed the kills. I’m the one who pulled the strings,” Winston’s voice thundered back at them all. “I am the one who—”
“Just made a full confession that was caught on an FBI microphone because you’re an idiot?” Nash cut in to say. “Yes, thanks very much for all of that. Now, I believe my sister will officially tell you that you’re under arrest.”
FBI microphone. For a moment, there was absolute silence. She wasn’t wearing a wire. She knew Cass wasn’t, either. But…leave it to Nash.
He and Ryan and Gray…always scheming.
“You really think I’m going to let three assholes in a van take me down?” Winston laughed. “My men didn’t go far…”
“My men,” Bayne groused.
“I have watchers here.” Winston’s eyes gleamed. “They have guns on you all. Bayne isn’t the only one who can use a scope on his weapon. Though, your shot was pure shit, Bayne.”
“I hit Levi. He’s the one I targeted. You said that you wanted Cass to live.” Bayne’s breath huffed out. “And I had to leave my favorite gun behind. You think it’s easy hauling around a rifle like that on my bike when I’ve got pricks chasing me down?”
“You killed Hugo,” Cass charged, finally breaking his silence.
“He was trying to kill me.” A fast return.
Sweat trickled down Agnes’s back. She and Cass were still in the van, with Bayne and Winston positioned in front of the open, rear doors. She and Cass had pretty good cover. But Nash was out in the open.
He’s too easy of a target.
“Your mother taught me some sign language, Cass,” Winston suddenly announced. “I quite liked her, actually. I think I might have liked her…too much. That’s the reason your father told her to leave.”
Wait, Cass’s father had told his mother to leave?
“Because he knew I would be taking what I wanted. Sooner or later, I always do.” A smug smile pulled at Winston’s lips. “Let’s see if I remember this right…” He let go of the cane. It hit the floor. He made a quick “A” sign with his hand only to almost immediately drop his hand.
She blinked, not understanding. The only sign she knew that kinda looked like that one with the drop was a two-handed gesture and it meant—
It meant now. Oh, no. “Nash!” Her brother needed cover!
Gunfire erupted. Fast, continuous bullets went flying. Driving into the side of the van, shooting wildly.
She yelled even as Cass shifted his gun to fire at a threat he saw—men swarming from the shadows. Cass fired his weapon. Once. Two times. Three.
With Cass’s gun no longer pointed right at him, Bayne leapt forward, surging up into the van.
“Stop!” Agnes yelled. “Freeze!”
He didn’t. He’d just pulled out a second knife, one that had been strapped to his waist. “I’m finishing you.” Spittle flew from his mouth.
Cass—a bullet hit Cass and sent him surging back. But in a blink, he was raising his weapon again, taking aim at Bayne.
Unnecessary. She had this covered. When Bayne’s knife came at her, Agnes fired. Right through her sling. Dead into his chest.
He toppled out of the van.
“I think I’m finishing you,” she said.
Chaos erupted.
The sound of shattering glass and banging doors rose to a crescendo. Lots of “FBI!” shouts filled the air. Men and women in bullet-proof vests raced through the warehouse. More gunfire. Lots of bikers running.
Bodies falling.
And…
“That sonofabitch isn’t getting away!” Cass leapt out of the back of the van.
“Cass!”
He was lunging forward. Pushing through the madness. She jumped out of the van, too, but immediately crouched beside Bayne. A Bayne who had a very large pool of blood beneath his body. She’d hit him right in his cold heart. Hard not to do at nearly point-blank range.
His eyes were open. On her.
Just as Max’s eyes had been open and on her. But, with Max, part of her had been glad that she was the last thing he’d seen. She’d tried to smile for him. Tried to even say, “I love you” in those last moments.
She smiled for Bayne, too. “Enjoy where you’re going.”
“Agnes!” Nash’s shout.
Still crouching, she whirled away from Bayne. Nash was near the left, rear van tire. Her brother was bleeding. “Get covered!” he barked at her.
She was doing that. She was also going to help her brother. She rushed toward him and immediately pressed her hand to the bleeding wound on his side.
“I’m all right.” But Nash hissed in pain.
“You have a bullet in you. That is not all right.” So many FBI agents. She’d just caught sight of Malik. “Working behind my back with Gray the whole time, were you?” she accused Nash.
“Watching your back the whole time, yeah, that’s what brothers do.”
It was. Just as it was a sister’s job to protect her brother. A man wearing a black leather vest and sporting piercings in his nose rushed toward them with his gun raised. He was aiming for Nash.
She fired. So did Nash.
The perp sank to his knees.
“FBI!” Agnes yelled. “Guns down! Guns down!”
The bad guys weren’t listening. There had been plenty of FBI shouts.
The perps were outnumbered. The Feds were taking over, and now that she could actually look fully around the warehouse, she realized why.
This wasn’t just about her and the man who’d hurt her so long ago.
Drugs. Weapons. Way too many fancy cars.
Agnes would wager that plenty of stolen property filled the warehouse.
But as her gaze darted around, she was looking for one person in particular.
“Cass went through the door on the right,” Nash told her. “Went chasing the leader.”
He’d gone after his uncle. The real ghost from his past.
Ryan appeared, dropping to his knees beside Nash. “Dammit, Nash, what did you do to yourself?”
“To…myself?” Nash choked out. “You are shitting me. You think I shot myself?”
Nash would be okay. Ryan was there. “Guard him,” she ordered.
“I don’t need guarding,” Nash rasped back.
She ignored him. Her focus was on the door to the right.
“Agnes…” A warning note from Ryan. “You’re a Fed. Do your job.”
“I am.” Her job—it was watching Cass’s back. “Love you both.” Then she was darting through the fighters and the Feds and heading for the door that waited. No way would Cass face his nightmare without her.
They were a team. Partners. And your partner always had your back.