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Sophie took a sharp breath in and gritted her teeth, urging herself to dig deep and be brave here. She had to think tactically. She had to focus on what she wanted out of this, her brother. Alive. She had to think like a killer. Cold, detached, focused. She had to think like Phantom. She realized, with a pang of something resembling homesickness. She missed him.
Okay, how many men had she seen? She mentally counted the ones outside, the ones she’d seen going into the hangar with the ringleader. She thought there might be five of them inside. She crept from her hiding place to the next, closer to the hangar. Maybe there was a back way in? She’d be too exposed if she just sprinted into the wide open front. She bit her lip, took one look back at the firefight, wished the Black Coyotes luck, and turned from it. She sneaked around the back. And sure enough, there was a side door. She hadn’t seen any other men. She frowned. If these guys were smart, wouldn’t they have put some men out back, too? To prevent a two pronged attack, exactly as she was attempting now? She snuck closer. The gunshots were markedly quieter back here.
Then she saw two of the Demonios men slumped on the floor. Were they… she inched closer, peering down at them, afraid to breathe… no, they weren’t dead. They breathed lightly. They had red marks around their necks from being choked until they had passed out. She looked closer. They had the tiniest little nicks on their jugulars. She knew that mark. It was where the point of a throwing knife had rested against it but the bearer had thought better of killing them.
Phantom.
Was he here? Her heart galloped against her ribcage. He was here, he was inside the hangar, he was ahead of her, clearing the way for her.
And he wasn’t killing anyone. She remembered their conversation, her urging him “no more,” to stop his mission of revenge.
He was still thinking of her. Thinking of her wish for him to stop the killing. Her bottom lip quivered, but she bit it, and took advantage of Phantom’s handiwork. She stepped delicately around the two slumped men. She pulled on the small fire exit door handle. It opened silently, and she snuck in.
* * *
It was immediately much darker.She couldn’t really see what she was faced with, so she instinctively ducked and hugged the wall behind her.
She blinked and strained her eyes, forcing them to acclimate. She scoured the interior of the hangar. It was all crates, wrapped in shrink-wrap. Ready to be shipped. They were arranged in grid formation, in a horseshoe shape around the edges of the hangar. Plenty of opportunity for her to sneak forward. She surged up and flattened her front against one of the crates, peering around the corner.
There was Max. He had a cut on his left cheekbone, like he’d been punched, and he looked disheveled, but otherwise unharmed. He sat there sulkily, arms crossed, eyeing his captors with the disdain only an unimpressed teenager could manage. Typical Max, to be all moody and sassy, even with his kidnappers.
“Give it up, you’ve lost! The Texas branch of the Demonios is history, too, Ricardo!” Colt’s voice boomed out. He must have either left the firefight or come forward to rescue Max. Sophie stayed behind the crate and listened. The gunfire had stopped from outside, too. She could inch closer to get Max away. If she edged over to the crate against his back, she could lean around, grab him, and guide him back the way she’d come.
“Oh yeah?” Ricardo said. Up close, he was younger than Sophie expected. He looked scared, desperate. Too desperate. She didn’t like it. Too willing to do something rash to save his skin. She skittered closer. One more crate now separated them. Max hadn’t seen her.
“Fuck you, I’m taking the kid, I’m gonna fucking blow his brains out. Ugly mutt! What the fuck’s up with his face, anyway?” The Demonios former leader shouted back, going shrill at the end.
Max rolled his eyeballs. Poor kid, Sophie thought to herself, a little part of her soul pinched inside for him, he got it everywhere he went.
“Back away, and we’ll let you live. Hell, you’re all alone now, if you want, Ricardo, come back with us. Have a decent meal, a few drinks… our chef is cooking fucking Lasagna Al Forno tonight-”
“Lasagna?” The prospect of that almost melted Ricardo.
Sophie took that opportunity to lunge forward.
And that’s when a hand clamped on her mouth from behind her. She was grabbed, dragged back into the shadows, her back slammed against a big, hard body.
She tried to struggle, tried to scream. She was turned around.
She smelled him before she saw him. Leather and pine. She opened her eyes and came face to face with her captor.
She sighed with relief. It was Phantom.
And he was shushing her again. She almost laughed at the irony of it. This was how they’d first met. Kind of. How they’d first interacted. Him saving her. It had ended with them having sex and him knocking the intruder out. How would this end?
He released her gently. She tried to mouth silently at him, a silent garble of thoughts. “I’m sorry… I love you… why didn’t you text me… I overreacted… but you were trying to kill my brother… but then I realized you protected him… but-”
He blinked once, slowly, his acknowledgement of everything she was saying. She hiccuped and took a breath. Everything was right in the world again. Another breath. She had to slow down and breathe. He released her, and indicated to stay low.
They both crouched, he fixed his eyes back on Max. She followed his lead.
“We’ve got a cool bar… you could have a room…” Colt was still trying to talk the gun out of Ricardo’s hand. Colt licked his lips. “Come on, you don’t want to become a ghost, do you? With nothing to live for? A wreck of a man? A… phantom?”
Boom.
A flashbang went off. Everyone moved at once. It must have been a code word. Phantom. Colt sprung forward. Phantom sprung forward. Max got yanked up. Phantom had Ricardo. Colt had Max. Sophie was stunned.
It almost worked. Almost.
