Ember
FEAR IN GOD - AVERY ANNA & SAM BARBER
Pinching the bridge of my nose, I stare out at the distant twinkle of London’s vast expanse. It looks so small and insignificant from the rooftop. Almost out of reach. If only our problems were that small too.
“Hey, it’s okay. I know you’re trying your best, hun.”
“Be patient with yourself. Memories are buried for a reason.”
“When will you come see me again?”
Pangs of guilt sear my chest. “Soon, I promise. Things are a little complicated right now, so we’re having to lay low for a while.”
“I heard about the explosion.” Her whisper is a trembling fault line.
“Don’t watch the news, Gracie. Everything you hear on the airwaves is just gossip and speculation. When I have an update, I’ll call you directly.”
“So it wasn’t a terrorist attack?”
“No, our home was targeted.”
I turn to face the sound of the rooftop door creaking open, rusted metal scraping on groaning hinges. Axel halts in the doorway, waving for me to follow him inside the distillery.
I should’ve known I couldn’t hide for long up here in the frigid cold.
“Listen, I have to go. I’ll keep in touch, okay?”
“Please be safe, Ember.”
“Trying my best. Stay busy, and call me if you remember anything else.”
We murmur our goodbyes, then the burner phone’s line goes dead. I let the muscles in my arm sag, too tired to plaster on a brave act any longer. Gracie’s locked away from her sisters and her home. This mess is the last thing her family needed to hear about.
“Em?” Axel calling my name forces me back into the present. “You’re needed.”
“What is it? I should call Tom.”
“Warner wants us downstairs. Said it’s urgent.”
“Urgent,” I scoff. “Just like everything else.”
“Come on, dimples.”
The wind chill is biting into my skin anyway, freezing every sliver left bare when Blaine’s leather jacket flaps open. None of us have much in the way of supplies. If we’re to hide here for another night, we’ll need some basic necessities beyond a single toothbrush and some stashed long-life food.
“Any luck with Gracie?” Axel tugs me into his side when I approach.
“No, she’s still drawing a blank. Sabre has recommended a trauma therapist from Richards’s approved list. Convincing her to sit down and work with the woman is another debate, though.”
“Sounds familiar,” he snickers.
“I’ve been going to therapy!”
“Under duress, I seem to remember.”
“You’re a fine one to talk.” I slap his ass. “Don’t act like violence isn’t your preferred form of therapy versus sitting down with a dinosaur like Doctor Richards.”
Chuckling, Axel kisses the side of my braided hair. “Fair point.”
“She’ll get there, she just needs more time.”
“Time we don’t have.”
“Exactly.”
Our fingers plait together as we descend dust-ridden levels to reach the ground floor. The guys have set up a command centre of sorts, clearing a box-filled corner before pooling our equipment, weapons and food in one place for safe keeping.
Warner paces in the middle of the makeshift enclave, his head jerking towards us at the sound of our appearance. He’s closely flanked by Hyland, sitting in a corner while systematically dismantling our guns to clean the inner mechanisms.
“Is there a problem?” I quicken my steps to join them.
“Blaine.” Warner hitches a thumb toward the entrance. “He has something for us.”
“Where is he?”
Hyland slides the barrel of his gun into place, brows pinched together. “He said he’s coming back.”
“It’s time for your afternoon meds.” Concern etches across Axel’s face. “Shit, we’re off schedule.”
“Ax, relax. I can look after myself.”
“Clearly not, babe. Let me find them.”
“Please don’t make a fuss.”
“Someone has to! Dammit!”
Leaving him to rummage through bags for my stashed medication, I perch on an overturned bottle crate, gaze fixed on the entryway to our hiding place. We’ve barely seen Blaine’s men since arriving here under a cloak of utmost secrecy.
As far as I know, he’s allowed them to live. We have no real evidence they’ve done anything wrong, but paranoia is running high right now. Still, no one comes in here or disturbs us, and Blaine handles all communication and supply runs with his people directly.
“Here.” Axel stops next to me, a cracked bottle of water and pills in hand. “Swallow.”
I can’t suppress a smile while peering up at him.
“Not like that.” His face splits into a grin.
“You said it.”
“Em, don’t flirt with me. I’m stressed to the point that I wouldn’t hesitate to spread you open on a pile of old boxes and rail you into next Sunday, regardless of who’s watching.”
“Since when do we have a problem with watching?” Hyland speaks up.
After tapping his chin for a moment, Axel nods thoughtfully. “That’s at least one volunteer.”
“No one is doing any railing.” Warner’s words carry the bite of failing patience. “Em, take your medication. Blaine will be back any moment now. I want a goddamn breakthrough.”
At Axel’s pout, I accept the handful of coloured pills to begin choking them down. He doesn’t stray his eyes from me until I dramatically stick out my tongue for his approval, every pill taken.
“Good.” He tenderly grazes his knuckles down my cheek.
“Knew you’d approve of my excellent swallowing skills.”
“Em,” Warner grumbles.
Bursting into laughter, I throw up my hands in surrender. “Alright, I’m stopping now.”
“For the record, I do approve.” Axel wiggles his dark eyebrows at me. “In fact, I prefer it when you swallow.”
Even Hyland is fighting off a hidden smile. I cast him a wink when he rolls his olive-green orbs in my direction. We both sober at the bang of a door reopening deep in the building, but my chest feels a little lighter.
Both Warner and Axel stand to attention, hurriedly collecting and aiming their freshly cleaned guns. It’s proven unnecessary when Blaine enters with a hand held up in the universal plea for calm.
“Only me.” He jerks his chin towards the open doorway behind him. “We have company.”
“Who?” Warner snaps.
“You can drop the guns.”
Behind Blaine, two figures emerge into our cut-rate headquarters. I release a deep sigh upon seeing Kade’s familiar face, though he looks near-translucent and exhausted. Not even wearing a tie. We must be in trouble.
At his side, Gunnar strolls into the room with a lazy look around, apparently unfazed by the rough accommodations. He meets my stare first, offers a smirk then nods at everyone else.
“This is our rescue party?” Axel rubs a hand over his face.
“Hey.” Kade’s head whirls in Axel’s direction. “You’re not pleased to see me?”
“It’s your entourage I have an issue with.”
“Thought we were all buddy-buddy now, bro.” Gunnar lays on a mocking tone. “What about my sandwich peace offering the other day?”
“Jesus, Gunnar. Just sit down.”
“I’m good standing, thanks. Nice place you’ve got here.”
“See what I mean?” Axel groans.
Working his way around our group, Kade clasps hands and offers back-slapping hugs. The embrace he tugs me into is a little softer than usual. I’m actually thankful for it.
“You holding up okay?”
“Managing,” I whisper back. “Still nothing from Gracie. She doesn’t have any identities for attendees of Madden’s parties or other key players she entertained. I’ll keep trying, though.”
“Perhaps that won’t be necessary.”
“How so?”
“Our friend The Hunter has something for us.” Blaine props one foot up on a box.
All eyes turn to Gunnar, lurking in a corner while dissecting us all with those snake-like eyes. He picks up the last disassembled gun from Hyland’s workstation, flipping the detached hand piece in what looks like an anxious tic.
“An old friend reached out to me through the channels I once used to conduct business.” Over and over, he tosses then catches the gun part.
“You’re still using those?” Axel cocks a brow.
“Calm down. Monitoring isn’t the same as using.”
“Who was it?” Warner asks.
“A mercenary pal from the old days, someone who owes me a favour. It isn’t often I helped my business rivals, but I did on the rare occasion. It doesn’t hurt to have an outstanding debt or two. Only I hadn’t called it in.”
Prickles wash down my spinal cord. “Then who did?”
“Turns out, my friend has been hired by a little headache we’re all having.” His lips spread into a wide smile. “None other than one Nolan Madden.”
“A mercenary?” Hyland grimaces.
“I believe he’s one of many. We already knew Madden is hiring paid skins to bolster his ranks. Lucky for us, this paid skin has a loyal bone in his body. He contacted me to pass along a message as the favour.”
The fizzling tension in the room rackets upward several notches to reach a boiling point. I shuffle closer to Axel so I can hold his bicep, needing something to keep me grounded.
That’s when Blaine steps forward.
Grim. Solemn. Resolute.
“It’s a message from my mother.”
“She’s alive?” Shock slams into me like a strike of lightning.
“Confirmed.” He nods, tousled black hair shifting like a dark shadow against the buzzed sides of his head. “And in the United Kingdom.”
“Holy fuck,” Axel mutters.
I dart to Blaine’s side, capturing his hand. “What was the message?”
“She wants to meet me.”
In an instant, my stomach plummets to the magma roiling in the Earth’s core below our feet. It’s another trap. A mental manipulation employed by the man who knows what he took from his only son. Now he’s baiting the line to lure in the big catch.
“I know what you’re thinking.” Blaine searches over my face. “It could be another scheme.”
“Could be?” Hyland huffs.
“Why would this woman risk her life to make contact with us?” Axel shakes his head.
“Because he’s her son,” Gunnar explains curtly.
“Not good enough. She’s had a son for over three decades and never reached out before.”
“Perhaps she wasn’t able to until now,” I point out.
Blaine’s fingers squeeze mine. “Perhaps.”
“That still doesn’t explain what she’s hoping to achieve or whether we can trust her.”
At that, Kade resolutely pulls up a box, appearing too tired to stand for a second longer. Warner claps him on the shoulder as he trudges past us to sit down.