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Whatever is heading my way has been a long time coming. I’m as prepared as I can be as he cocks the gun. At least it’s only me dying in this scenario. I brace myself and close my eyes. For the first time in my life, I have a happy place to escape to. Or rather, a happy person. I immerse myself in thoughts of Smoke. Of our time together.
Of the love I feel for him stronger than any bullet.
Griff pulls the trigger.
Chapter Fifty-Five
I park my bike at the top of the hill. The van stops behind me, and Nine and Preppy get out while King and Bear pull their bikes up beside me. Below us is Griff’s three-story building. An old library from the sixties turned warehouse is tucked into a quiet valley that’s about to be anything but quiet.
“Two on top, two on left, and three guarding the door,” Bear says quietly, peeling the binoculars away from his eyes.
“And one blonde holding what looks like a detonator,” Preppy chimes in. My head turns to him, and I quickly spot what he’s staring at.
There’s Rage, lying on her stomach in the tall grass, holding a very recognizable detonator in her hand because it’s one I’d taught her how to make. Realization hits me, and I sprint toward her, not caring who hears me.
“Rage! No!” I scream.
“Keep your voice down!” King shouts, but it’s too late. They’ve already heard me. The dirt all around me begins to explode when bullets being shot from the roof of the building connect with the ground.
“Rage, don’t!” I scream
, but she has her earbuds in. Her foot tapping from side to side with the beat of whatever she’s listening to.
She turns and sees me, glancing back up at the building like she’s confirming that I’m being shot at. I’m almost to her, I can almost grab the detonator from her hand, but with one last glance, Rage offers me something I’ve never seen on her face before. An apology.
Her finger squeezes the trigger and the building explodes in spectacular fashion, vibrating through the ground like an earthquake, crumbling down like a sandcastle being trampled over.
“Nooooooo!” I scream, as half the building falls and my heart along with it. “Nooooo!” I haven’t lost any of my forward momentum. I roll into Rage, toss her on her back and press my gun into her forehead. She doesn’t react, just stares up at my face like she’s trying hard to understand something. She won’t be looking like that long. She’ll be looking like she’s missing her brain in a minute because I’m about to put a fucking bullet in it.
“Can’t let you do that,” Bear says, producing his own gun and holding it to the back of my head.
“Then do it!” Another explosion shakes the ground. “What the fuck did you do?” I ask, only able to get out every other syllable. My voice shakes and cracks. “What the fuck did you do?”
Bear presses his gun against my head again as if to remind me he’s still there.
“I don’t want to do this, man,” Bear growls.
I see King slowly walk to one side and Preppy the other as if they could somehow tackle me off her before I pull the trigger. They’re not that fast.
“Tell me why!” I demand again.
Rage looks up at me expressionless. There is no fear in her eyes. “Because she loves you,” she says softly, placing her palm against my cheek. The act of kindness and the softness of her tone throws me off balance. “Because you love her. Because I love YOU.” Her face twists in pain, not from me on top of her but at her own words.
It doesn’t make any fucking sense. Has Rage finally lost her shit completely?
“Wow,” Preppy says. “Should you two get a room?”
“Not like that, dumb-ass,” Rage says, rolling her eyes like I’m not about to murder her. She glances up to me. “Frankie asked me to, but I couldn’t do it.” She shrugs.
“Couldn’t what?” I ask, slamming my fist on the ground beside her head.
“She asked me to bring her to Griff then wait a half hour. If she didn’t come out by then she wanted me to blow the building. I couldn’t do it. Not with her inside. So I set the explosives on the exterior and only one inside. I’ve only blown the exterior ones. It won’t bring the place down until I blow the final one, but it will shake the place up a bit. Hopefully cause enough of a distraction for her to get the fuck out.”
I’m still trying to wrap my brain around it, but there’s no time. I have to get to Frankie.
“It’s true, man,” Nine chimes in. “How did you think I knew where this place was? Why do you think you’re here?”
“Why the fuck would she do this?”
“She went in so you wouldn’t. She didn’t want anyone to die when…”
Holy fuck. Frankie sacrificed herself….for me.
I get off Rage who sits up and passes me a tablet. “I inserted one of those thingies into her skin behind her ear before she went in. She’s in the far east side of the building. “Here,” Rage says, pointing to a blinking red light on the screen.
“Come on, then. You two can talk this out later,” Bear says. “We need to figure out how we’re…”
I make a run for my bike.
“What are you doing?” Preppy shouts above my revving engine.
I look out at the warehouse below. “I’m going in!”
“We’ll cover you!” he shouts, his words lost to the wind as I take off down the hill.
King was right. I’ll shed the blood of every fucking man who gets in the way of my saving Frankie. There’s no one I won’t kill.
I’ll burn the fucking world down for her and bask in the motherfucking flames.
Chapter Fifty-Six
I’m in so much pain. My shirt is stained red as blood seeps from the bullet wound in my stomach. I clutch my hands over it, but there’s no keeping it in; it pours through my fingers and drips onto the concrete floor.
I’m light-headed. Everything around me seems to slow down.
An explosion sounds in the distance like far off cannon fire. The walls shake and dust falls from the rafters to the floor.
Wood and concrete is falling all around me. Griff’s men are running, but I can’t run with them. I can’t even move.
Griff is shouting orders. A large metal panel falls on top of the man he’s shouting at so he turns to the next one. I throw away paint brushes that have lost most of their bristles less flippantly.
The wall explodes, the garage door caves in. A huge black motorcycle appears from nowhere, airborne, its tires spinning against the air, crashing down onto the ground.
Smoke.
Tears of relief spring to my eyes followed by a pit of horror burning a hole in my stomach. He can’t put himself at risk like this. Not for me. He has too much on the line now, and there’s too many of them.
“No! Go back!” I shout, but there’s no way he can hear me over the roar of the engine echoing through the large open space.
The bike lurches onto its side, but Smoke stays upright, stepping out from the spinning pile of metal like he’s stepping over a puddle in the street. He heads straight for the two men guarding me. There’s a look in his eyes.
Determination.
He’s hyper-focused. I realize it didn’t matter if he heard me tell him to go back or not. He’s beyond hearing right now. Beyond thought. He’s somewhere I can’t reach him.
No one can.
Smoke’s movements are fluid. Downright graceful. He’s wearing black fingerless gloves and his cut, with nothing on underneath except his colorful tattooed skin and lean ripped muscle.
