12. Raegan
Chapter twelve
Raegan
The exhaustion and hangover means I sleep in past my alarm the next day. It’s a race to the address the paramedic gave us, and I’ve just given the guys ample opportunity to scope it out first.
I pray they’re just as tired from whatever clean-up they did at the guy’s apartment, but considering Jackson visited me last night, it's unlikely. The silver lining is that I should miss them completely, at least. I could use a break from running into them. I’d love to never run into them while I’m here, but again, I have to be realistic.
The address takes me to an abandoned auto repair shop.
It’s not what I expected for a drop off point for kidnapped kids, but I guess that’s the point.
When I peek through the garage door windows, the shop area is empty. No cars, no tools, nothing. The office door doesn’t have a window, and the blinds are down, but there’s no sound coming from inside, and it’s the middle of the afternoon on a weekday.
I check the area one more time and then pull my lock picking kit out and get to work. It’s an easy lock, so I’m in within the minute and slip inside before anyone can see me.
The desk is bare, as is the rest of the office. I check the filing cabinet and drawers just in case, but the guys wiped it clean, if there even was anything here. It could have been empty already, which is why it was chosen as a drop off location. But I’ll never know if it was or if something valuable was here because I’m sure the guys made it here first.
Well, fuck.
A dead end.
All because I couldn’t get my shit together last night and get enough sleep to wake up early.
No, I should have come here straight away after leaving the paramedic’s apartment while they were still cleaning up.
Ugh. That’s exactly what I should have done.
I’ve never had to race someone to my next lead before. Now, I need to find something to get me back on track.
I slam the open drawer closed with a huff. Something blue tumbles to the ground, and I bend down to pick it up. Just as my hand closes around the small paper—a sticky note, I think—a gunshot fires from behind me.
My heart jumps into my throat and then slams back into my chest as I wait for the inevitable pain of wherever I’ve been shot.
“I guess it comes down to me to take out the traitor, huh?”
Cold dread slips through my veins and locks my body in place. I can barely breathe.
Even though it’s been years, even though his voice is drenched with malice and disgust, I still recognize it. It’s a mockery of the voice I was once so familiar with. The voice that laughed with me and soothed away my troubles. I’d heard him say nasty things to others before, but always as a defense for his family. Never toward me.
“She can make whatever sound she wants. If anyone else dares to say or do anything, we’ll take care of it.”
After I had to tell them I killed his sister, Dane never spoke to me again.
Until now.
I slip into fight or flight mode. My heart rampages in my chest at a dizzying pace, its thundering beat drowning out all other sounds. I manage one shaky step after another, my muscles vibrating with the instinct to bolt, until I'm finally facing him.
The gun is aimed at my chest from a mere four feet away. There's no chance of missing me if he fires now. He's close enough that I can see the flecks of green in his amber eyes. The sharp angle of his jaw and the tic of its muscle. His hair is shorter than how he used to wear it when we were younger, though its dyed color is the same. He's in jeans and a blue shirt that reveals a sleeve of tattoos on his left arm that hadn't been there on the island.
“Dane,” I breathe out.
“Don’t talk,” he barks and waves the gun at me.
I bite my lips and hold my hands up so he knows I’m ready to cooperate. The best I have on me are knives, and even if I could get them out before he pulled the trigger, what would I do with them? I killed his sister to save him .
If I turn and run, I’m dead. Step closer to him, dead. If there’s anyone in the world who wants me dead, Dane is at the top of that list.
Self-preservation tells me to shut the fuck up and do what he says until I can see an opportunity for me to escape.
He rubs his face with his free hand. “Fuck. Why did it have to be you?”
It’s obviously a rhetorical question, so I keep my mouth shut.
He glares at me. “Why did you do it? I want answers. Then I’ll decide what happens to you.”
Holy shit balls.
I’m going to die.
I swallow to give myself more time to decide how to respond. I know that I’m fucked no matter what I do. Even if I told him the truth, he wouldn’t believe me while he’s still buried in his grief. And I still want to hold on to my promise.
But if I lie to him, he’ll know and probably kill me. If I keep my mouth shut, he might kill me out of frustration.
How the fuck do I get out of this?
When I don’t answer right away, he steps forward and yells, “Answer me! Why did you kill Vera? Why did you kill my sister ?”
I take an involuntary step backward and bump into the filing cabinet. Damn it, this office is too small. There’s nowhere to go if he keeps getting closer.
“She was my sister too,” I say finally, avoiding the actual question that will probably get me in trouble. She was the only girl I talked to on the island. The one who talked to me about boys. About kissing. She meant something to me too, which made her betrayal hurt that much more .
Because she’d turned her back on all of us.
His face reddens, and it’s like seeing a bomb about to go off.
Fuck me.
“How dare you say that!? You don’t get to say that after what you did to her! You killed her! And she was mine by blood. I was supposed to protect her. I just didn’t think I had to protect her from you !”
I hold my palms out in front of my chest in a placating gesture. “Dane, please. Put the gun down so we can talk about this.”
“How long did you plan on killing her? Were you just playing all of us to make us care about you so you could get close to her? Or did she try to stop you when she found out about you, so you killed her?” Another step closer. He’s a step away from being able to reach me now.
“No, it’s not like that! Dane. Please.”
The rage turns manic in his eyes. “I know you were with GE all along. I’ve seen the proof. You tricked us. And suddenly, after all this time, you just appear in our city and keep bumping into us? I don’t buy it. What do they have you here for? To get close to the others again so you can take me in? Are you going to kill them like you did her if they get in your way?”
Proof? What proof? And why does he think GE wants him?
My brain barely has time to register what he’s saying before he reaches out and snatches my wrist. He shoves my palm against his chest and holds it there. I try to tug it back, but his hold is immovable. Then the barrel of his gun pushes into my forehead, and I freeze. “Go ahead. I want to feel what Vera did in her last moments before I shut you down.”
I take a shuddering breath, but I don’t look away from him or close my eyes to hide from his pain. I did this to him. But there’s nothing I can say or do to fix it.
My gaze meets his, trying to convey how sorry I am for what I did. Moisture gathers in my eyes, and I have to bite my lip to stop the fine tremble that’s taken over me out of fear of what’s going to happen next. I try to focus on Dane instead. His eyes. The feel of his heart beating beneath my hand. His signature citrusy scent that I used to tease him for smelling sweet and tart at the same time, just like his personality.
A new emotion flickers in his glare, but before I can think anything of it, something flies in front of my face, and the gun clatters to the ground. Dane’s grip on my wrist loosens, and I pull it free as we turn to see where it came from.
Jackson’s lying on his stomach in the air vent above us, a throwing star between the fingers of one hand while he rests his face against the other. He looks calm and unaffected by the heightened emotions in this small office, but also like he’s been watching us this entire time, and we were too preoccupied to notice.
Which we were.
Dane glares up at him and then moves back toward his gun, but another star flies down so hard that it pins the trigger guard to the ground, and he can’t lift it up.
Jackson tsks , then easily twists himself around and drops between us. “I’d hoped to leave you both alone to sort this out.”
Dane’s still trying to yank the star out of the tile and growls up at him. “Then stay the fuck out of it.”
“I would if I could.” He shrugs with a smirk, calm as always. “But hurting Raegan isn’t an option.” Jack keeps his body and eyes aimed firmly at Dane, even when he addresses me next. “Leave now, little one. I’ll take care of this.”
“You’re seriously taking her side? What the fuck, man? She killed Vera ! She’s an enemy of our family! A threat! Leaving her alive is just asking for her to kill us too. She should be the number one enemy that we’re fighting against.” Dane gets up and tries to go around him, but Jackson sidesteps and blocks him until they’re face-to-face.
I’m too busy absorbing the deep cuts and brands from Dane’s words to react to anything else. I know then that that’s how he feels. How Aiden probably feels. Maybe Kellan too. I’m still not sure I can trust anything that Jackson told me last night. I’m worse than the enemy we’ve all been hunting in parallel.
“Raegan, go ,” Jackson reiterates, and I finally snap out of the spiral of thoughts I was trapped in.
Right. Leave before Dane tries to kill me. Again.
I move around Jackson, who angles and shifts himself to remain between me and Dane until I’m at the door. Dane calls out one last time, just to make sure he’s hammered the nail in the coffin.
“You’ll never trick us again. Do you hear me? You’re dead to us!”
I feel like doing something reckless .
It’s probably not the smartest move I could make, but I’m not sure how much I care in this moment. There’s something about being a second away from death that makes me crave doing something foolish and crazy to remind myself that I’m alive.
For however long that lasts.
Best to seize the moment and have a little fun once in a while, right?
Almost like what Kell and I would do on the island. We would sneak around, break rules, pull pranks, do things that definitely could have gotten us hurt if not killed. All because we could . It was one of the few ways to feel like we took control back over our lives.
Now I just need to find the right place to go tonight to get that thrill.
I’m sure someone at Hype will know of a good spot and make my way there. Staff are working to get the place set up for opening, but even without the music and customers, the workers are rowdy and there’s a general feel of relaxed fun in the air. I’m tempted to stay here to drink and dance my troubles away like usual, but brush the idea aside as soon as I have it. I need more than that tonight.
I try the bouncer that Elias introduced me to on my first night working in the club. He watches me approach, arms folded over his chest, but doesn’t say anything even when I stop in front of him.
“It’s…Bryant, right?” I ask hesitantly, hoping I didn’t fuck up the name even though we’d only met that one time.
He nods stoically.
“Great. I’m not sure if you remember me. I’m Rae, the new temp working here for Elias? ”
“I remember.”
“Okay…” I had hoped for some sign he was good with me and might open up, but it’s like pulling teeth. “I’m still new around here and don’t know of the best…spots for a bit of late-night fun. Do you think you can help a girl out with some recommendations?”
Bryant looks me up and down. “And what exactly are you looking for?”
I hesitate. I’m not sure of what exactly I’m looking for. Something with danger. Probably illegal.
“Oh. Um, any underground groups that do anything fun after the sun goes down?”
Was that too vague?
“You looking for the Dragon?” Another staff member walks over to interrupt with a grin on his face. Bryant gives him a warning look, but the other guy is unperturbed.
“Um…I’m not sure about a dragon,” I start, looking between the two workers.
The guy laughs and shakes his head. “Not a dragon. The Dragon. Best fighter in the cage.”
“Cage?”
“Yeah. At the Pits. You been?”
“Uh, not yet. Is there something going on there tonight?”
“Nah, it’s street racin’ night.”
My heart rate picks up at the possibilities of racing. Perfect . “Right. Where’s that at tonight?”
“Down at the old airport by the docks. They won’t be there until after midnight, so I wouldn’t bother going until then. Do you need a ride? I’ll be heading there after my shift.”
“Don’t start any trouble while the boss isn’t here, Stefan,” Bryant grunts at him, though his eyes stay on me.
“I’m sure she’s no trouble if she’s working here,” Stefan easily defends me with a wink.
“Thanks.” I give him a small smile. “For the information and the offer of a ride. I’ll make my own way there, but thank you.”
Stefan shrugs, but his smile doesn’t falter. “No problem. Have a good night!” He waves and jogs back to the bar.
I call a taxi to bring me down to the old airport just after two in the morning and then wander until I can hear the revving of overly modified engines. It’s the dead of night on the outskirts of the city, where even the neon lights are gone from sight. The only light is the soft glow of the moon overhead and a sprinkling of stars. The air here is permeated with the smell of rubber and gasoline mixed with salt water and garbage, so I know I’m in the right place.
I walk through an open metal gate and then head toward the unmistakable sound of cars racing. There are cars and trailers everywhere. Most are in the back and empty as I walk by them, but some trailers still have cars in them while last-minute modifications and tinkering happens between races.
The runway stretches toward the water, but it’s at least a mile out. Most attendees are clustered here at the starting line. They’ re standing around in groups, filming or taking pictures, placing bets, and rooting for various cars.
The throttle of engines draws my eyes next, and at the flash of a light, they tear down the runway in seconds. The sound drowns out everything else, even the cheering of people around me now that I’m in the thick of them. Smoke billows from their tires until all I can see are red tail lights glowing in the dark.
“Shredder and Guillotine, you’re up!” someone shouts over the clamor, and two more cars roll up to their places in line. “Nightmare and Dark Vengeance, you’re on deck!”
Without any further preamble or instructions, the cars surge forward at the flashlight signal, matching each other for a few seconds before one overtakes the other.
I keep moving through the crowd until I can see the drivers of the next race. I’m impressed by the speed and organization with which they’re running this. I suppose it’s necessary to get through as much racing as they can before cops roll in.
I check out the drivers of the two cars lined up and ready, and—Oh shit. My breath catches. There’s Kellan, one arm draped over the wheel while he takes a swig of a forty.
Is he seriously drinking while doing this?
A small part of me wondered if he’d be here. He made some comment about having his name all over this city, but I was too focused on needing the adrenaline rush to care. Now that I see him, I debate staying or leaving.
He was always the one coming up with the wild ideas for us to try. The one who brought the smile to my face even when I was feeling down. Did I seek this out for the rush, or because I knew he might be here?
The flashlight lights up and then he’s gone. Both racers are meeting each other speed for speed, one nosing in front of the other before it switches. And then Kellan shifts gears or something because he jumps forward and zips past the other car, passing the end marker with car lengths to spare.
There’s cheering and the next racers being called out, but all I can focus on is Kellan as he drives around and parks to the side with the other cars on standby. He stands from his car, bottle still in hand like it’s been permanently attached, shirtless and grinning. He’s wearing jeans, but his feet are bare as he walks across the pavement to clap hands with Stefan.
His arms are tattooed from shoulder to hand. One side continues up the side and back of his neck while the other curls around his back shoulder blade.
I wonder how long it must have taken him to get all of that ink if his skin kept trying to heal itself over before they could finish.
My feet are frozen in place as I’m captivated by him, by his every movement and expression, while his attention and ire aren’t aimed my way for a change.
The need to feel like his partner in crime, to go along with his crazy ideas that take my breath away and set my heart racing…it wells up in my chest until it’s ready to explode. Maybe just for one night, we could have that again.
Kellan turns around with a wide smile that I see through in an instant. Even with years apart, I know the difference between a genuine Kellan grin and what’s there now.
His eyes meet mine, and my heart stutters. I can’t tell if he’s still pissed with me or what, because he stares without a word until I can’t take it anymore.
“Kell…”