Chapter Two #3
The night air carried the river’s smell stronger now, mud and diesel and something organic rotting somewhere nearby.
Crickets had gone quiet when the gunshots rang out, and they hadn’t started up again yet.
The silence felt heavy, like the neighborhood was holding its breath.
Thankfully, I heard the Bronco Tiny favored headed our way.
A few seconds later, Tiny rolled around the corner and pulled up next to us, killing the engine before climbing out.
Knight followed suit on the passenger side.
Knight stood maybe six-two, heavy beard and shaggy hair, tattoos covering every visible inch of skin including his face.
The whites of his eyes looked like they’d been tattooed black, making his glacial blue irises stand out like something unnatural.
He looked eerie as hell on a good day. Tonight, covered in shadows and backlit by the truck’s headlights, he looked like something that had crawled out of a nightmare.
Tiny was… anything but tiny. Standing over seven feet tall, the man was thickly muscled and had a heavy beard. As eerie as Knight looked, Tiny was absolutely terrifying. The woman took one look at the two men and raised her gun with a little cry and a wobbly hand.
“Easy,” I said. “They’re with me.”
Knight stopped, hands visible and empty, and looked at her with those unsettling eyes. Tiny raised his hands and settled back inside the Bronco with his hands on the wheel and the door open. After a long moment, the woman lowered her weapon. Probably just as well. She trembled like a leaf.
“We need to move,” Knight said, his voice smooth and pleasant despite everything. “Those guys will have men coming to find that one.” He jerked his head in the direction of the fallen biker.
I nodded and moved toward the truck. Veda followed after a beat of hesitation.
She climbed into the back seat on the passenger side and immediately pressed herself against the door, gun held against her chest in both hands.
Not pointed at anyone, but kept at the ready.
I climbed in beside her while Knight got in the passenger seat beside Tiny.
The ride to the Kiss of Death compound took maybe two minutes. Veda stared straight ahead, her breathing shallow and controlled. Blood dripped from her palm onto her jeans, leaving dark spots on the denim. She didn’t seem to notice. Her hand kept going to her chest, pressing flat like she hurt.
“You sure you’re OK?” We rolled through the gate and straight to one of the camouflaged paths leading deeper into the compound. Tiny took the tight corners with practiced ease, never slowing down. Veda nodded but didn’t speak. “Veda, you’re rubbing your chest. Are you hurt worse than we thought?”
Tiny pulled into the garage, a large warehouse. Tools hung on pegboards along one wall. Lifts occupied two of the bays. Half a dozen motorcycles in various states of repair sat on the concrete floor. The space was well-lit and familiar. Home.
“I’m fine. It’s the reason I was there to begin with. I’d prefer not to lose it.”
“Prefer not to lose what?”
She looked up at me and opened her mouth, but she seemed to realize she could be in a bad situation. Veda stumbled out of the vehicle before the truck fully stopped. Then she backed up until she hit the nearest wall and brought her gun up, pointing it at me as I climbed out of the truck.
I stopped about ten feet away and raised both hands, palms out, making myself readable.
“You’re safe here,” I said, keeping my voice level and calm.
“You’re not trapped. Door’s right there.
” I nodded toward the bay door we’d entered through, still open to the night air beyond.
“You want to leave, leave. Nobody’s stopping you. ”
Her gun stayed up, both hands wrapped around the grip despite the blood making her palm slick. Her arms shook with exhaustion or shock or both. She looked at the door I’d indicated, then back at me, her eyes moving fast like she weighed her options.
Knight stood near the truck, far enough back to be non-threatening, just watching. He’d seen people at their breaking point before. Hell, we all had. He knew better than to approach or speak, knew the wrong word right now would send her running. Or shooting.
Veda’s gaze moved around the garage, taking in the other men present. A couple guys near the far wall had stopped working to watch, their expressions neutral. Nobody moved toward her and, even better, nobody made the situation worse by trying to help.
She looked back at me. Her jaw worked like she wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words.
The gun barrel wavered slightly, dipping a few inches before she corrected and brought it back up.
Her breathing came faster now, ragged at the edges.
The adrenaline was wearing off and everything underneath was starting to surface.
I stayed still, hands still raised, and waited. Pushing now would be the worst possible move. She needed to make this choice on her own, needed to decide whether staying was worth the risk of trusting men she didn’t know in a place she’d never been.
Finally, she lowered the weapon until it pointed at the floor instead of at my chest. Her whole body sagged slightly, like that small movement took everything she had left. She didn’t run or move toward the door.
“Now,” I said, lowering my hands slowly. “You want to tell me what you’ve got that’s important enough to risk your life to get?”