CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
JAMES
First, a balloon pops. A second bursts right after. Then a third. One by one, each is hit by a bullet.
The birthday cake slips right out of Alicia’s hands, almost in slow motion, as she draws her gun from the holster on her thigh.
I grab Sarah’s hand and dive behind the kitchen island. My dad’s pocket watch slips from my pocket as we hit the ground, clattering a few feet behind us.
Gunfire erupts in the background, but all I can focus on is Sarah. I scan her for blood, any sign she’s been hurt. She hasn’t. But she’s shaking, and every shot makes her flinch.
My brain’s a mess, trying to catch up. One second, it was a party. The next, chaos.
A grinding noise ripped through the room. A trapdoor I didn’t even know was there burst open, and five men came charging out, guns blazing.
I edge around the corner of the kitchen island just enough to see the room.
Now, one of them hangs back, watching the others like he’s in no rush.
He’s tall, maybe six-four, with a beard and a scar that runs from his left eye to his cheek.
His long black coat hangs open, a bullet belt strapped across his chest.
He smirks like he’s enjoying the show.
“James Hill,” he shouts. “You really thought you could kill Brandon, Aaron, and Axel without anyone finding out? Tyler’s been waiting for this.”
“Frank, you piece of shit!” Alicia yells.
Of course. That scarred bastard in the long coat is Frank. I should’ve known. He’s the leader of the last gang still playing by Tyler’s rules, and the only one I didn’t kill. Not because I spared him, though. I just never got the chance.
Frank just laughs. “Oh, Alicia, dear, you really thought you could be an Outsider?”
I grit my teeth so hard I taste blood.
More shots. Then two painful groans and the heavy thuds of bodies hitting the floor.
“Two down, Frank. Not bad for a new Outsider, huh?” Alicia calls from the back of the room, crouched behind a desk and picking them off one by one.
Only Frank and two of his men are still up, pacing with guns in hand. He kicks my dad’s pocket watch, and it skids across the floor until it smacks the wall and drops through the trapdoor they came from.
My chest clamps up, but I push it down. I can lose the watch. What I can’t lose is the girl beside me.
I look around, thinking fast. I yank open a cabinet beneath the kitchen island.
“You need to hide. Now, Sarah.”
She shakes her head like this is the perfect time for one of our fights. “I’m not just gonna sit here while you get yourself killed!”
I don’t give her a choice. I push her toward the cabinet and shove her inside. It’s tight, but she can fit. “We don’t have time for this. Stay hidden.”
I try to force the door shut, but her hands slam against the wood, stopping me.
“Don’t you dare close this door.”
My jaw locks. “Do as I say.”
“No!”
She glares at me, all fire and stubbornness.
I open my mouth, ready to argue, but I just shut the damn door. Her muffled scream follows, but I block it out. If I let her voice get to me, I’ll lose focus. And I can’t afford that. Not when her life is in danger.
I move fast, taking cover behind the old couch by the kitchen. From here, I’ve got a clear shot.
I spot Michael crouched behind a flipped metal table, while one of Frank’s men sprays it with bullets.
I don’t hesitate. I just pull the trigger.
The shot is clean, straight to the guy’s neck, and he’s dead before he hits the floor.
A bullet slams into the couch right next to my head. I duck and roll to the other side as more bullets hammer into the fabric.
I spot the source. Just one asshole still near the trapdoor. I raise my gun, but someone beats me to it. A shot takes him out, and he drops dead. I glance over and see Michael, still aiming at the guy he just shot.
Then I hear a sound. Not gunfire this time. Something worse.
A cry.
Footsteps follow, then another cry. I turn, heart hammering. Frank, the last man standing, has Alicia in a chokehold, his gun pressed to her temple as he drags her toward the kitchen.
I squeeze my eyes shut.
Shit.
“Enough of this!” Frank barks, stepping back until he bumps into the island, right where Sarah is hiding.
He doesn’t know she’s there. But if he finds her…
“You two, drop your weapons and come out,” Frank orders, using Alicia as a human shield.
My eyes flick to Michael, crouched behind the table. He raises his gun, looking for an opening, but I shake my head. There isn’t one.
“I won’t ask again!” Frank snarls, his arm crushing Alicia’s throat. She gasps, clawing at him, her face turning red. She’s struggling to breathe.
Michael and I exchange a look.
We don’t have a choice.
Slowly, I set my gun down and slide it across the floor. Michael does the same, moving just as stiffly. Both guns clatter to a stop at Frank’s feet.
“Good,” he says. “Now step out, hands on your heads. No smart moves, or our dear Alicia here won’t survive the day.”
Michael and I stand, hands raised. My eyes flick between Alicia and the kitchen island, where Sarah is still hiding.
Frank jerks his gun toward Sarah’s birthday cake, now smashed and half-melted on the floor. “In the center of the room. No tricks.”
Michael and I move without a word. He doesn’t take his eyes off Alicia as she fights Frank’s grip, his whole body coiled with tension.
I glare at Frank. “You don’t have to follow Tyler’s rules. I know you made a deal with him like the other gangs did, but you can walk away. Your men are dead. Just leave the city.”
“You still don’t get it, do you?” Frank smirks like he’s been dying to say this. “We were never different gangs. Me, Aaron, Brandon, Axel—we’ve always been part of the Reeds Brothers gang. Tyler’s always been our leader.”
He yanks Alicia closer. “I should put a bullet in her skull right now, but Tyler will want to punish her himself, since she’s the first girl to escape.
” Then his cold, dead eyes lock on me. “And you? I can’t even imagine what Tyler’s got planned for the great James Hill.
But if there’s someone you love…” He smirks. “Consider them dead.”
Sarah.
The hair on the back of my neck stands up. And then, like I summoned her, she’s right there in front of me.
She’s not hiding anymore.
No.
She’s right fucking there, creeping silently toward the bastard holding Alicia hostage. Her pocketknife glints in the light. Her eyes are locked on the gun aimed at Alicia’s head.
In one fast, hunter-sharp move, Sarah drives the knife straight into Frank’s hand. She sinks the blade deep, and just as fast, she yanks it back out.
Frank lets out a scream. His grip on Alicia breaks, and she crashes to the floor, his gun skidding beside her.
He clamps his uninjured hand over the bloody mess Sarah left behind, biting his lip like that’ll stop another scream.
But the rage on his face says it all. His eyes drop to Sarah, then to the bloodied knife still in her hand.
“Stupid bitch! Who the hell are you?” he barks.
His gaze flicks to the gun, lying between us. I dive forward, my fingers closing around the grip just as his bloody hand lunges, missing by inches.
I rise in one clean motion, arm steady, barrel aimed at his head, and I pull the trigger. Twice.
The first shot takes off part of his face. The second sends him crumpling to the ground, dead before he even knows what hit him.
My chest heaves with hot, ragged breaths. Anger and adrenaline still burn in my blood. I walk through the room and shoot each of the other men from his gang twice in the head. I don’t even care if they’re already dead. I don’t take chances.
I catch Sarah watching me; my nostrils flare, and fuck… I can’t even pretend I’m not pissed at her.
Yeah, she saved us. But she did it by doing exactly what I told her not to do. She put her life at risk.
I take my eyes off her. There’s no time to argue about this now.
I scan the room—shredded pink balloons, blood, and bodies everywhere. If this wasn’t real, it might almost look like a Halloween party. But in our world, nobody’s handing out candy anymore.
“We need to go. Now!” I shout, running a hand through my hair before turning to Alicia.
Michael’s already helping her up, his hands skimming for injuries.
“We can’t wait ’til tomorrow to get the others out of Denver.
If Frank found my place, Tyler might already know they’re hiding in that department store. ”
Alicia meets my eyes. “You head for the woods. I’ll get the rest out of town.”
I hesitate.
“You sure?” I ask quietly. I already know the answer, but I need to hear her say it.
“Yeah. Tyler doesn’t have Frank’s gang anymore to keep eyes on the streets. I can get them out alone. You go. You’ve already done more than enough.”
My gaze shifts to Sarah, then back to Alicia.
I want to stay and help her. But I can’t. Not with Sarah in danger.
Alicia nods like she hears it anyway. “Go. I’ve got this.”
Last week, when I was running missions with Alicia to get people out of the city, she surprised me.
I’m not much of a talker, and she’s the kind of person who fills the silence by talking to herself.
But when it comes to the serious stuff? She flips a switch.
Shuts off every emotion and does what has to be done, no matter the cost.
A true Outsider.
“I’ll stay with you. I can help,” Michael says.
Alicia shakes her head. “No. Help James get your sister out of Denver. I’m not letting her lose her brother if something goes wrong. Not after what happened. You know why.”
Every Outsider has a past. It’s always messed-up. Always brutal. Some are worse than others, but we all share one thing: we lost the people we loved. Alicia is no different. Her brother was an Outsider before her, and Tyler killed him. She won’t let Sarah risk losing hers.
Michael holds her arms as she zips up her black leather jacket.
“Tomorrow night,” he says to her. “I’ll be waiting in the woods, up in the mountains. You know the spot. Our tents are yellow.”
Alicia leans in, presses a quick kiss to his lips, then heads for the door. “See you tomorrow night, blondie. Make me dinner, I’ll be hungry.”
“Don’t forget to add this to the movie script, Alicia Phillips,” Michael says with a wink.
She giggles, but by the time she slips out the front door, her smile’s already gone.
The door clicks shut, and I catch Michael’s worried look out of the corner of my eye. No matter how many times we say “see you tomorrow,” sometimes tomorrow never comes.
I glance at Sarah. She meets my eyes, then quickly looks away. I can’t blame her. I yelled when I shoved her into the cabinet under the kitchen island.
I swear there’s something about her birthday. Something always goes wrong on this day, one way or another. And just like today, we end up fighting about it.