Chapter 17 #2
She was out of the car and bursting through the door of the Leather & Chains bar before logic kicked in and slowed her steps.
Luke was dead. The young man she’d seen in the parking lot and followed into the bar couldn’t be Luke.
Then she saw him again. The thief who’d taken her purse was shoving the Luke look-alike toward a hallway near the rear of the bar.
Sachie lowered her head and weaved her way through burly bikers smelling of leather, booze and cigarette smoke. She had to know the truth. Who was this kid who looked so much like Luke?
“Hey, chickie, where ya goin’ in such a hurry?” A man grabbed her arm. “Stick around. Let me buy you a drink.”
She forced a smile and shook her head. “Sorry. Gotta pee. Maybe after?”
“Countin’ on it,” he said and released her arm. “Don’t make me come lookin’ for you.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Sachie hurried toward the hallway where the kid and the thief had disappeared.
She’d just entered the dark corridor when the thief stepped out of the men’s restroom and blocked her path, a sneer pulling his lip up on one side.
“I got a grand waiting for me out the back door. All I gotta do is deliver, and bitch, you’re making it too easy. ”
The thief gripped her shoulders.
On instinct, Sachie slammed her palm into his nose.
His hands on her arms loosened enough that Sachie knocked them away, and she ducked around his side.
She’d only gone two steps when he snagged her do-rag, and the hair beneath it, and yanked her to a halt so fast, she fell backward into him, knocking him flat on his back.
Sachie rolled to the side, scrambled to her feet and ran into another set of arms. When she looked up into the face of her captor, all the air left her lungs. “Luke.”
“No,” said the teen with the dark curly hair and green eyes that looked just like Luke’s. “I’m Mark.”
“Oh, my God,” she said. “You’re the twin.”
The thief rose to his feet. “Good. You caught her. I’ll take her from here.”
Mark pushed Sachie behind him. “Can’t let you do that.”
The thief’s eyes narrowed. “Should have known you’d double-cross me. Think you’re going to get that thousand all for yourself, then you better think again.” The thief launched himself at Mark like a linebacker going in for a tackle.
The teen stepped to the side at the last second and shoved the thief into the wall, headfirst.
The thief sank to his knees and fell onto his side.
Mark hooked Sachie’s arm. “You need to get out of here. The Pele Maka are after you.” As he turned her back toward the bar, the rear exit door opened.
A man dressed in black jeans and a black leather jacket stepped through. “Mark, Miss Moore? What are you doing here?”
Sachie blinked. “Officer Roland?”
“Yes, it’s me,” he said, a frown denting his forehead. “This isn’t a safe place for you two.”
A loud crash sounded from the barroom, and shouts echoed off the rafters.
Roland glanced over their heads. “All hell is breaking loose out front. You can’t go that way. If you come with me now, I can get you out the back.” He waved them toward him.
The shouting became a roar from the barroom.
Sachie had to get out of the building and back around to the front where Teller and his team were.
Two bikers, locked in each other’s arms, bounced off a wall and into the corridor, landing on top of the unconscious thief.
Sachie leaped out of the way and ran toward the rear exit, with Mark behind her.
As soon as they were through the door, Roland followed, pulling the door closed behind him.
Outside, the shouts from within were muffled. But more shouts sounded from the other side of the building.
Officer Roland ran to a nondescript dark sedan and yanked open the back door. “Quick, get into my service vehicle and duck low. You don’t want the gang members to see you. You have a price on your head.”
As Sachie bent to climb in, Mark grabbed her arm and yanked her back. “Don’t.”
“But they’ll see me.” Sachie tugged on her arm, but Mark wouldn’t let go. “I need to get back to my car.”
“Hurry, Sachie,” Roland said, standing on the other side of the door, ready to close it as soon as they got inside. “Get in. I’ll get you there.” He started to go around the door.
Mark stepped between Sachie and Roland. “Don’t go with him.”
Sachie laid a hand on Mark’s arm. “You heard the officer, I have a price on my head.”
“Mark, think before you speak.” Roland’s voice had changed from desperately helpful to stern and menacing.
Mark stared into Roland’s eyes. “Ms. Moore, you have a price on your head because he put it there.”
“I warned you. Now, you and the girl will pay.” Roland pulled a gun out of his pocket and aimed it at Mark.
Sachie shoved the open car door as hard as she could, hitting Roland’s arm as he pulled the trigger.
A loud bang sounded.
Mark jerked sideways and fell to the ground.
“No!” Sachie dropped down beside the teen.
Before she could check for a pulse, she was lifted off the ground and flung into the backseat of the car.
She fought and kicked, landing a foot in Roland’s face.
As he reeled backward, cursing, Sachie lunged out of the car.
Roland’s arm shot out, catching her around the middle. He pulled her back against his chest and pressed his handgun to her temple. “Stop moving or I’ll shoot.”