Chapter Twenty-Nine — Jamie
The warehouse swallowed sound the way the ocean swallowed light—slowly, completely, until all that was left was the echo of your own heartbeat.
My hands were shaking. I was scared as fuck. I wasn’t scared of death, but I didn’t want to die now. Still, I couldn't dwell on it or I'd freeze. I watched Moses hang up his phone and waited for a few more of his men to pull up before I finally walked inside.
I stopped in the center of the concrete floor, the exact same spot where Vinny had shoved Rage down and saved her life. If only he’d let the bitch take that headshot, none of this would be happening. The bloodstains were still there—dark and dried into the cracks like they'd always belonged.
Fucked-up and poetic.
I got to work barking out directions. I had forty minutes at most before the rest of the snakes arrived.
"Ant, catwalk."
Ant nodded and headed for the metal stairs.
"Rico, behind the old crates."
He disappeared into the shadows.
"Moses... office upstairs with your other guys."
He stood his ground, not moving, an eyebrow raised.
"What?" I snapped.
"You know this plan is stupid."
"I do."
"You could still leave."
I looked toward the heavy warehouse doors. "No."
Moses shook his head, a somber look crossing his face. "Don't die. You too pretty, Brownie."
He disappeared up the stairs just seconds before the warehouse door groaned open behind me.
My first guest of honor had arrived right on time. I'd needed him here early.
"Marcus," I called out.
"You Jamie?" he questioned.
His voice was rough and heavy. I'd seen his picture before today.
In it, he was clean-shaven—the Southern type of handsome.
He had that looks-like-he-smiles-at-church-picnics-but-breaks-kneecaps-after-dark type of vibe.
He had looked massive in the photo, but the man standing in front of me now wasn't that guy.
He looked like pure hell. There were heavy, dark circles under his eyes and a week's worth of ragged beard on his jaw. His clothes hung loosely, like he'd lost weight he didn't have to spare. Grief had eaten him alive.
"Yes, I’m Jamie," I answered, my voice softening just a fraction. "You found her?"
His jaw tightened, a lethal spark igniting in his eyes. "We found her."
"I'm sorry."
"Sorry don't bring her back."
"No," I agreed flatly. "It doesn't."
Marcus studied me for a long moment, his men shifting behind him like wolves in the shadows. I could feel him trying to read me—trying to figure out if I was bait or an ally, a snake or a savior.
As his gaze raked over me, I braced myself for the usual reaction.
I was wearing tight clothes, and men like him usually let their eyes linger a second too long on my chest or my hips.
But Marcus didn't. He looked me straight in the eye, and for the first time in a long time, I didn't see a shred of lust in a man's gaze.
Instead, there was a heavy, quiet respect in his expression.
He was looking at a fellow soldier, not a piece of meat.
"Why?" he asked, his southern drawl dragging over the word. "Why help me?"
"It’s not because I’m altruistic," I said honestly. "Rage wants me dead right now. Our enemy is the same woman. I need you to kill her so she stops trying to kill me."
He stared at me with a look that clearly read this bitch is audacious, but the respect in his eyes didn't fade.
"Where is she?" Marcus asked.
"She's coming. I invited her."
His eyebrows shot up. "You invited the woman who tried to kill you to a meeting?"
"I invited the woman who tried to kill me to a trap." I nodded toward the back of the building. "There's an office through that door. You wait in there with your men, and leave a few of them hidden outside. When Rage gets here, you know what to do."
He stared at me for another beat, absorbing the layout. Then he turned to his crew, pointing at about six or seven of them. "Follow her directions."
He jerked his head toward the back office and walked away, his men falling into line behind him. At the door, he paused, his massive frame framing the exit.
"Jamie."
"Yeah?"
"If this is a setup—"
I raised my hands, cutting him off before he could voice the threat. “I know.”