Chapter Eleven
STRIKER
We come up the access road quiet as the grave.
Hawk's at his place, having briefed Wrench on the layout inside the Lodge. He's staying home, because of his role working undercover as a ranger at the Lodge on Prez’s orders, so can’t show his connection to the Outlaws.
Wrench turns to me. “How did you know where she was?”
“Mick called Viv after he dropped her at the bus terminal. Viv called me. I found the bus driver at the diner, after exerting a little pressure he told me about the black SUV, and I knew it had to be Rotmere.”
“Good. You ready to go?”
“Wrench?”
“Yeah.”
“If we live through tonight I'm buying you that weird beer you like for a year.”
“You’d better. Here’s the layout.”
He walks me through it. Entry through the service corridor with a code Hawk’s given us. Through the kitchen and the wine cellar. There’s an elevator up from the laundry room that’s close to the bridal suite.
“How long have we got before Rotmere security gets to us?”
"Five minutes between me setting off the smoke alarm and them figuring it out it's a false alarm and checking the cameras. Don't stall, Striker.”
“All right.”
Checking my watch, we set off on foot toward the lodge. The keypad code works first try. Wrench is behind me, setting off the smoke alarm. We come up through the service door and the corridor lights are still on, but the building is starting to react. A door slams on a different floor as the alarm blares.
Wrench at my shoulder, low. “There’s a security guy behind us in the corridor, moving toward the alarm. I've got it. You go.”
As I round the corner, the guy coming around the other side is checking his phone. I slam into him, using a chokehold to get him to stay down. I cover the last stretch of corridor as quickly as I can, pulling back the bolt that locks the door of the suite and pushing the door open.
A slick looking guy is standing at the window with his back to me, on his phone. He turns at the sound of the door with the slow surprise of a man used to other people knocking.
Bethany is on the edge of the bed, her hair loose around her face. Her eyes find mine in the second the door opens and she springs off the bed like she's been waiting for it.
“Striker!”
“Princess.”
The slick guy opens his mouth in protest, but I cross the room, grabbing his right wrist and twisting hard. The phone goes one direction, his arm goes the other as he yells. I pull him off balance with my free hand at the back of his neck and run him face-first into the wall beside the bed.
He tries to get up and I put my knee on his back. I take his right hand, lay it flat on the floor, fingers spread. I put my boot on it.
“Rico Taylor?”
He turns his face to the carpet enough to look at me. Blood gushes from his nose.
Keeping my voice low, I lean down. “Bethany Crawford is my fiancée. Stay away from her and away from her brother. Any move toward either of them brings me back to this room. We're past conversations after that. Are we clear?"
“Yes.”
“Look me in the eye and say it again.”
“Yes. I understand you.” His voice is muffled.
