Chapter 22
SCARLETT
Ifumbled to my feet, unsteady. The floor swayed beneath me but I managed to find my balance as the heat from Cass’s body pressed close.
Stretching my arms as far as they would go behind my back, I felt through the air until my fingertips brushed against the hem of her shirt.
I curled it into my fists, then tugged, walking us both toward the door.
My footsteps were slow but silent. Cass stayed with me, hovering close.
With the room cloaked in black, it was impossible to tell where we were headed. My shoulder brushed against a wall. Maybe it was the same wall where we’d been. Maybe we were moving closer to Ghost. But I kept going, my toes feeling ahead with each step before I planted the heel of my foot.
“Where’s my fucking phone?” Ghost barked. The jingle of his belt buckle mixed with the commotion above us.
It was then that I felt it. I bent, dropping to my knees, and nearly collapsed onto my shoulder as I stretched. The muscles in my shoulders ached. The twist in my ribs pinched. But somehow, I managed to find Ghost’s phone with my fingertips and draw it into my palms.
The music was gone but chaos had erupted above. Men were shouting. Women screamed. Then the first gunshot rang out. My entire body flinched as the sound of the blast lingered. But not for long. Soon it was replaced by another. And another.
It was war.
The noise covered everything, and I surged to my feet, moving forward, not trying to stay quiet. It probably wasn’t safe outside this room, but it definitely wasn’t safe inside.
Pop. Pop. Pop. The gunshots came in rapid succession until another deafening boom sounded, covering the shrill of my scream. The explosion was like the one that had shaken the walls and knocked out the power.
Cass and I both went down, crouching beside each other. I found her shirt again, gripping it tight.
“Go,” I whispered, forcing myself to stand. “We have to go.”
Whatever was happening upstairs sounded terrifying, but it would be better to die attempting an escape than waiting for our executioner to find us in that room.
A light flashed beside us, illuminating the room.
We had Ghost’s phone, but somewhere in her scrap of clothing, maybe a pocket in that miniskirt, the woman had stashed her own.
She held it out, barely lighting the room.
Ghost’s eyes darted to the wall where we’d been huddled and when he found us missing, his eyes darted our way.
I was just one step away from the doorway. My heart leapt. We’d been going in the right direction. I bolted forward, taking Cass with me as I screamed, “Go!”
We lunged, making it out the door just as Ghost yelled, “Fuck!”
I let go of Cass’s shirt, bumping her in front of me with my shoulder as I dropped Ghost’s phone to pull at the door’s handle.
Hurry. My fingers slipped on the metal but I stretched, grabbing it again with all my might. Then I took a long step forward into the hallway, yanking the steel door with me and slamming it closed.
Ghost’s fists beat on it from the inside. He went for the handle and I held it tight.
“Lock it.” I pulled hard, holding the handle with the last shreds of my strength and leaning forward. I didn’t weigh much but if I could just hold it for a minute. Hold it. Hold tight.
Ghost twisted at the knob, bellowing, “Let me the fuck out of here!”
The handle’s square edges dug into my clammy palms but I didn’t let go.
Cass shuffled in beside me, staring over her shoulder as her fingers fumbled with the sliding lock. She had to stand on her toes, but she found it and pushed. “Almost . . .”
The bolt slid into place.
I sagged. “Good job.”
“Which way?” she whispered.
The hallway was as black as the room had been. I let go of the door’s handle, holding my breath as Ghost continued to pound on the other side and rattle the lock. But it held. Hopefully it would keep holding for as long as it took us to get out of this basement.
One long breath was all I allowed myself before I dropped to the floor, again patting around in the darkness for the phone. I found it quickly, right beside my foot, and stood.
“Here. Can you take this?” I turned and stretched for her fingers, the two of us fumbling to make the handoff.
“Got it.” She kept the phone tight and pushed the side button, turning on the lock screen.
The faint glow was just enough to get my bearings. We were in the basement, no surprise, but we hadn’t been kept in the same room where Ken Raymond had been killed. That was two down from the stairs. Our room was three.
“Come on.” I walked past her, hugging the wall as I moved. The phone’s light went out and Cass continued to wake it up as we slowly crept toward the staircase.
While we’d been wrestling with the door, the gunfire had stopped. Dull footsteps and muted voices drifted over our heads but I couldn’t make out any of the words. Ghost continued to pound and rage behind the door.
Who had fired those gunshots? What would we find upstairs? I gulped. I guess we’d find out. Because this basement was not an option.
The stairs drew closer. The door at the top opened to a hallway.
We’d have to pass the individual rooms on our way out.
Not all of the members lived here. Most of the senior members had their own homes.
The brothers like Jeremiah, too cheap to get an apartment or those who wanted to be close for the parties, stayed here.
The rooms had windows. Small ones, but we could probably shimmy out. There’d be a drop to the ground, maybe eight feet, but I couldn’t think of another option.
Beyond the rooms was the clubhouse common area. Whatever fight had broken out had to have taken place there and it would be crawling with people. Maybe littered with dead bodies too.
I gritted my teeth, taking the final few steps to the stairs. “When we get up there, follow me,” I whispered.
“Okay.”
My legs trembled as I took the first step. I swayed, sucking in a deep breath. They were concrete steps, much like the rest of the clubhouse. Cold. Sterile. Harsh. A tumble from the top would mean another concussion or possibly a broken back.
“Be careful.” I glanced over my shoulder. Cass’s face was barely lit from the light of the phone.
She nodded.
I turned, ready to get the hell out of here, when the steel door above us flew open. My heart jumped into my throat and I backed up, pushing Cass backward with my bound hands.
She smothered the light of the phone, but not soon enough. The looming figure above us, dressed in black, raised an arm. Then the beam of a flashlight blinded me, forcing me to look away.
“Scarlett.”
Scarlett. Even with the helmet covering his face, I knew that voice.
“Luke!” A sob broke free and the strength I’d had just a second ago vanished. My knees gave way, cracking against the floor as I fell.
He’d found me. He’d found us.
Luke’s footsteps pounded down the stairs as he rushed for us. The flashlight clattered to the floor beside Cass just as the lights above us flipped on. The music that had been blaring before the power had been cut pounded as loud as ever.
Then it was gone.
And there he was, ripping the helmet off his face and the gloves from his hands before taking my face in his palms, tipping my face to his.
“You came.” I collapsed forward, my body shaking uncontrollably.
“Are you okay?” His hand went to the blood at my hair. “Where are you hurt?”
I choked down another sob and nodded, sucking in a deep breath. “I’m okay.”
Beside me, Cass whimpered.
Luke dug in his pocket, searching. He came out with a pocketknife, flipping it open and severing our bonds.
I rolled my wrists, moving my arms as Cass did the same. “How?”
“Shh.” He shook his head. “We’ll talk later.”
Luke reached for my legs to carry me, but I pushed on his shoulder and shook my head.
“Cass. Help Cass.” My voice cracked. “Get her out of here.”
Two more men came barreling down the stairs. They were dressed like Luke, covered head to toe in black. Cargo pants. A long-sleeved shirt. A thick vest. The same helmet he’d torn off.
It was tactical gear. One of the men’s vests was emblazoned with three stark white letters.
FBI.
Luke had come here with the FBI.
A surge of relief raced through my body, the adrenaline boost giving me a second wind.
One of the men stood over Luke’s shoulder.
“Help her,” Luke ordered, jerking his chin at Cass.
The man took Cass’s elbow, helping her to her feet. When she swayed, he picked her up in a cradle hold and carried her up the stairs. She looked at me over his shoulder, her eyes wide, her face pale.
I mustered a small smile before the agent whisked her out the door.
Luke swung me up and into his arms. “Is anyone else down here?”
Ghost’s pounding answered that question.
The other agent brought a hand to the little black radio on his shoulder. “Johnson, come to the basement.”
A voice, Johnson presumably, answered back instantly. “On my way, sir.”
Luke gave the man a nod, then took the stairs without delay. The stench of stale alcohol and cigarettes and sweat filled my nose when we reached the hallway. Luke took a step to the right, toward the rooms and front entrance.
And there it was. Jeremiah’s door. It was just a place behind a closed door but as we neared the room—third on the left from the mouth of the hallway—I knew I couldn’t do this.
“Stop.” I tapped on Luke’s shoulder.
“What?” He slowed but didn’t stop.
“Stop. Can you put me down? Please?” I met his eyes, so full of worry and fear it broke my heart. “I need to walk out of here on my own two feet.”
I needed to walk past that door.
I needed to be the one to put this behind me, one step at a time.
Luke blew out a sigh. Then he pressed a kiss to my forehead, his eyes drifting closed. “Fuck, but you scared me.”
I leaned into his touch. “I’m sorry.”
“This is on Tucker. Not you.”
“I’m still sorry,” I whispered.
“Do what you need to do.” He set me on my feet, then took my hand. “I’m here.”
I leaned into his side, taking a moment to gather myself. Then I walked, not sparing a glance at the room that had once been Jeremiah’s. I marched past two federal agents, both escorting men wearing Warrior vests and handcuffs toward the exit.
And I had my chin held high when I reached the massive open area where the Warriors held their parties. Beer and liquor spills puddled around the room. Plumes of smoke clouded the room, swirling around the too-bright florescent lights.
Spots of blood darkened the floor.
There were people everywhere. Federal agents in the same attire as Luke moved in and out of the double front doors. One agent had a Warrior pushed face-first onto the green felt of the pool table, working to get the cuffs around his wrists as the Warrior spewed a string of insults and threats.
For the number of people, it was surprisingly quiet in the room. Besides the one Warrior on the pool table, the others were silent, their jaws locked and mouths shut.
The flash of red and white and blue lights from beyond the door flickered into the room.
Two EMTs rushed inside with a stretcher, hurrying to a man on the floor in the corner of the room.
It was a Warrior, lying face down. His eyes were open, staring blankly at the boots of the agent crouched beside him.
Was he dead? I searched the walls, spotting a bullet hole to my left. Beyond that, the Arrowhead Warrior patch had been stitched onto a black flag and another bullet had ripped through its A.
The entire clubhouse had been raided. For every Warrior or party member there seemed to be two agents. More were probably outside with the men and women they’d already hauled out.
“Excuse me.”
I jumped at the voice behind me and huddled into Luke’s side as an agent skirted past. Behind him, two female agents escorted two drunk women, both in slinky dresses and teetering on their stiletto heels, out of a room.
Once they passed, Luke tugged on my hand. “Come on.”
I nodded, taking a step, but froze when I met a dark gaze before me.
Tucker Talbot stood next to a female agent by the bar. His hands were secured behind his back. Over his shoulder, some of the liquor bottles had shattered, dripping amber and marigold onto the shelves.
Unlike the others, the agent at his side wasn’t in tactical gear. She was wearing a black suit jacket cinched to her fit frame by a bullet-proof vest. Her pressed slacks draped to sensible heels. She was speaking to Tucker, reading him his rights, but his eyes were locked on me.
My heart thudded too hard, but I kept my chin high. I held his gaze and didn’t falter.
Tucker Talbot would never make me cower again.
I’d testify against him. I’d give the FBI the video of him committing murder.
I’d live to see him go to prison.
“He crushed my phone,” I whispered to Luke.
“We’ve got the backup,” he said, then tugged on my hand again. Luke was done with this place.
So was I.
I held Tucker’s gaze until he was in my periphery, then I put him behind me, a problem for another day, and gripped Luke’s hand tighter.
The minute we stepped outside, the cool evening air surrounded me, filling my lungs and chasing away the smell.
I breathed. For the first time in what felt like years, I breathed.
This wasn’t over. There would be repercussions from this night, but for now, I was safe.
The parking lot was even more chaotic than I’d expected. The noise I’d missed in the main room seemed to have been waiting outdoors. Women cried. Men cursed. A couple were fighting a futile battle against being shoved into the back of a police car.
“Where’s Cassandra?” I asked Luke.
He lifted his free hand, pointing to his truck parked at the very edge of the lot. She stood, shivering, with Ghost’s phone in her grip and a wool blanket draped over her shoulders. The agent who’d carried her from the basement stood stoically by her side.
“She’s okay. Thank God.” I aimed my feet in her direction. Every step felt lighter. Safer. I floated. Until I realized I wasn’t floating. I was falling.
“Scarlett.” Luke caught me before I hit the ground.
Above me, the stars sparkled, swirling in the midnight sky. “Pretty.”
“Scarlett. Stay with me.” Luke shook me, his voice laced with fear. “Stay with me, beautiful. I need to tell you that I love you.”
He loves me. I only had energy for a faint smile.
Then for the second or third time in a day—I’d lost track—the world went black.