Chapter 6 #2
I offer them a smile back in silent thanks.
“Anyway, you know what happens with all good intentions. Or at least in my family if you try to do one good thing a heap of nasty shit finds you and makes you sorry you were born. In my case, just after putting on my pajamas, I found my father rushing out of the house with all the men in tow. I knew something was up, so I grabbed my phone and slipped out the back. The snow was just starting, and I didn’t think I would be outside for more than five minutes. Turns out, I was dead wrong.”
I swallow. The coffee is hot, bitter and perfect for swallowing down the hurt my family has caused me.
“Turns out, he was turning the back barn into a cooking lab. They move it every two weeks and I think you scared them, because it wasn’t time for the move.
They were meeting someone. A Russian, I think from the sound of his accent.
Two of his men were with him. And there was another crew there that I didn’t recognize.
These men are not like my father’s men. The rolled up in pricey cars and had diamonds on their fingers.
There were three of them. I also remember all three had viper tattoos on the backs of their hands with ruby red eyes and lots of ink of other ink.
I’m a stickler for details and that is what stuck out to me. ”
Cipher’s eyes flick to Reaper, then down to some invisible spot on the floor only he can see. Gears are turning and everything about that brief exchange of theirs tells me they know who I’m talking about. I want to ask, but I need to stay on task.
“I ducked behind the second barn and a large woodpile to film everything. I caught equipment coming in, the glass cookers, or whatever they are called and then I watched the product arrive in large cases. I even have my father shaking hands with the Russian. They signed something and then my father was handed an enormous duffel bag I can only assume was money. I got so tied up in making sure I had all of it on film that I didn’t realize the Russian’s bodyguards spotted me until it was nearly too late.
One of they nearly had his hands around me before I took off. I grabbed keys and well, here I am.”
The words leave a sour taste on my tongue.
“You have this recorded?” Ash asks.
I inhale slowly and release the tension building between my shoulder blades. “I do. I was driving to New Orleans to hand it to a detective I trust.” My voice goes soft. “She’s probably staring at her phone wondering if I’m dead.”
I watch all the Savage men down the last bit of their coffee and stand like they are ready to go off to war as soon as they weapon up.
Then they move the sides of their coats and pull out weapons I didn’t realize they were carrying.
Everyone checks their rounds. I guess they are about as prepared as my father’s men.
Never leave home without strapping up. What a heavy lifestyle.
I feel the heat of a death glare from the Vulture by Roman but I work hard to ignore his presence.
“Detective Lafleur?” Storm asks from the kitchen counter.
My gaze snaps to his. “You know her?”
He wobbles his head, indecisive. “Good friend of sorts. Long story.” His gaze sharpens. “Do you trust me enough to send the video file to me?”
I pause. “Trust is earned.” It comes out before I can stop it. Every Savage goes still for a heartbeat, and I hate that I might have insulted them, but Storm nods like I gave the only right answer.
“Exactly,” he says. “Never trust a man because he asked nicely.”
Venom’s hand covers mine, grounding me. “She trusts me.”
Venom’s words hit home. I slowly connect my gaze to his.
He’s the only steady thing I’ve had in years and I just officially met the man.
Forget that I’ve loved him from afar for years.
“I do.” I pass the phone over to him. “Code is twelve thirteen. The month and day my brother died. Stop my father before he kills more. Please.”
“Thank you.”
All the men sound off and I hold each of their gazes. They mean their words. They want to help.
But I don’t get to hold that warm feeling for long before the world detonates around me. At first I think bricks are being thrown against the cabin walls, but the second I glance out the window, I realize it's way worse.
Another loud thud hits the side of the cabin and the burst of light that follows makes my heart stick in my throat.
And then again.
Whoops and hollers come front the Vulture. He tries to spring to his feet and head for the door but roman is on him. He takes him down with one blow, but the idiot doesn’t shut up.
“You fucker are gonna get it no…”
Roman knocks the man out cold and zip ties him like a pig.
“You treat animals like animals, sweetheart.”
He looks at me and well, I can’t argue his point.
“Truth,” I say and duck when the side window shatters. Venom hauls me into him just as a glass bottle lands somewhere in the kitchen.
Ash moves fast and douses the flames. But the outer walls are not so lucky.
Another thud and a blossom of orange light lights the night up. Heat slaps the window. Venom shoves me behind him as flames spider up the side of the cabin and lick hungrily at the eaves.
“Move!” Reaper barks. Guns appear from everywhere. Savages made for war shrug on their true skins.
I reach for the front door, bedsheet and all, but Venom blocks me with a wall of muscle and commands, “No. You stay low.” He grips my shoulders, eyes drilling into mine.
“Back bedroom. Get some clothes on. Anything warm. Then head out the back. Follow the path around the edge of the property. You’ll find it easily enough.
Move fast, stay low and quiet. It leads to the main house. ”
“What do I say when a hundred angry bikers put me in their sights the second I step on their front porch?” My voice shakes.
“Tell them Venom sent you,” he says. “Password is ‘coffee beans.’ Arabelle will know.”
“Coffee beans,” I repeat, committing every syllable to my memory. He presses his forehead to mine for the quickest heartbeat of shelter in the storm, then pushes me toward the hall.
Another Molotov screams against the Cabin’s outside wall. The glass belches heat. Fire licks around the edge of the busted out window and consumes the curtains, greedy and bright. Smoke claws my throat.
I run.
In the bedroom, I yank on the first clothes my shaking hands find.
Venom’s thermal, a pair of sweatpants I have to roll twice, thick socks.
I jam my feet into his boots. They’re like damn boats on me, but I don’t care.
I grab the nearest hoodie, shove my hair inside, and shoulder through the back door into a world of firelight and snow.
The path is a black ribbon through white, tree-shadows loom over head tall and clawing. Bullets crack the air. Men shout. Somewhere behind me, the cabin that briefly felt like a haven screams as flames take the roof.
My sanctuary is gone.