Page 23 of Freedom’s Inferno

We moved together like another couple drifting back toward the party. My pulse thundered in my ears. The enforcers’ eyes burned holes in the back of my skull, waiting to see if I’d flinch, or if I’d bolt.

Lana’s nails dug into my arm with each pace, but she didn’t speak, didn’t look back. Only when we broke into the swell of the crowd did I let out the breath I’d been holding, but even then, it didn’t taste like air. It tasted like the smoke of a fire closing in.

I bent low, close to Lana’s ear, my words a growl only she could hear. “We’re not safe here. Not tonight. Not anymore.”

Her lips parted, but before she could reply, I caught movement in my periphery. Meat Head broke from Black Beard and shouldered his way through the crowd. The gala had turned into a trap, and we were running out of exits.

Chapter 10

Chuck

The big guy’s eyes were still on me. His gaze followed every move Lana and I made, his hand lingering in his jacket like it didn’t matter if he put two in my chest right in the middle of Byres’ ballroom.

A few feet behind him, the bearded enforcer tracked us too, but his eyes kept cutting sideways to his partner with the tight, controlled expression of a man managing a problem he hadn’t asked for.

Lana and I waded between guests, trying to get lost in the crowd of sequins flashing and champagne flutes clinking, all of it suffocating. Lana’s posture was perfect, her chin high like she’d rehearsed this moment her whole life. Only the rigid tension in her shoulders betrayed her.

We skirted the edge of the ballroom. My eyes tracked every exit, every shadow, every flicker of movement that could be him closing in. The music swelled, a jazz number with too much brass, and it set my teeth on edge. The service hall loomed ahead, a discreet door tucked behind the catering tables, if we could make it that far.

“Charlie,” Lana whispered.

I followed her gaze. Across the room, near the main entrance, the muscled enforcer leaned casually against the wall, one hand in his jacket, the other holding a glass of something bubbly. Waiting. Watching. The bearded man stood a few feet away, arms crossed, scanning the room.

The smile I’d forced cracked into something darker. “He’s not following us.”

“What?” Her eyes cut to me, questioning.

“He’s herding us.” My jaw clenched. “Toward an exit of his choosing. The other one’s just trying to keep him from doing something stupid.”

Lana’s nails dug into my arm, her whisper a hiss. “Then pick one he didn’t choose.”

I tightened my grip, steering her toward the service door. The lights from the ballroom dimmed behind us as we slipped into the narrow hallway, the music muffling to a dull throb. The air was cooler here, tinged with dish soap and frying oil.

As I reached for the exit that would lead us to the back side of the house, heavy footsteps echoed down the hall behind us. Meat Head rounded the corner alone, Black Beard nowhere in sight, and the look on his face told me he’d finally slipped the leash.

My heart sank. We were done for. That was when the scrabble of claws scraped against hard wood.

“Douglas!” someone hissed.

That damn beagle came barreling out from between the legs of a server, ears flapping, tail wagging like a flag in a storm. He didn’t pause. He made a straight line for the enforcer.

The man had just started to turn around when Douglas collided with his shins. His glass hit the floor, shattering, and he stumbled hard, his hand shooting out to steady himself instead of drawing his gun.

Douglas growled, low and deep, his teeth gnashing.

The enforcer—Costa’s dog—was forced to wrestle with Byres’ hound instead.

I stood there, staring in disbelief, with one thought cutting through the chaos of my mind: Good boy, Douglas.

“Let’s go!” Lana grabbed me by the elbow, yanking me out the service door and into the night.

The two of us jogged around the building, not daring to stop until we reached the valet out front. Panting, I thrust my ticket into the man’s hand.

He gave me a confused once-over, before hurrying to fetch the Lexus.

Neither of us spoke. We didn’t have the air. I glanced back at the Byres’ house, lights glowing like a beacon behind us, laughter and music drifting out as though nothing had happened.

Lucky Lana strikes again.