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King yanks on my arm, swinging me around until I am facing him. “What do you not fucking understand? I fucking said it from the beginning. You will be the downfall of this team. Did you not see what’s happening up there?” He grips my other arm so that both of his hands are now holding me in place.
I look up at him, hoping that he’ll show me some mercy. Being down here will keep me away from Alexie, and I need to know he’ll be okay. That’s all I want. “King, just let me explain. Once you know what’s really going on, you’ll know why I did what I did.” Tears fall down my cheeks, and my voice becomes unsteady. “I never wanted anyone to get hurt. Not BJ, not Marcela, and not you.” My voice cracks as I struggle to get out each word, and tears flow freely. His grip loosens on my arms. “Please, King, if you care about me at all, you’ll–”
“That’s enough!” King says sharply, and his grip tightens. “You don’t get to fucking do that. Don’t you dare try to play on my emotions. Your games are done!”
He moves forward, which pushes me back a few feet until my back touches the cold bars of the cell. His left-hand releases my arm as he reaches over, opening the cell door. With his right hand, he pushes my body to the side until I’m standing in the doorway. “Get in.” I don’t move. “I will put you in there if I have to, now get the fuck in there.”
I take a few backward steps until I’m standing in the cell. King closes the door and types a combination on the keypad. The lock makes a clicking sound, signaling it’s locked. King doesn’t immediately step away but instead keeps eye contact with me.
“Listen to me.” His voice is softer this time which gives me hope that not all is lost. “You’re not getting out of here until the team decides if you’re of use or decides to get rid of you. Right now, I’m leaning towards the latter.” King turns and takes a few steps toward the stairs before turning around again.
“And don’t even think about trying your little sleazy mind games with Conrad. You don’t deserve him.” With that, King turns back around and walks up the stairs.
I look around the space. Outside the cell, there’s nothing except a few doors that must lead to other rooms. Inside the cell is a stool attached to the bars and a cot, also attached to the bars. Glancing up at the ceiling, I notice padding. The room has been soundproofed.
King’s right, I did this to myself. I deserve this. But the fact that remains the same is... Ivan will still come for us.
King
Itrudgeupthebasement stairs, slamming the door as I walk through it. Everyone’s sitting at the dining room table, waiting for me to come back from locking our prisoner up for the evening or indefinitely, depending on how this meeting goes. Stryker’s looking at me as I walk to the table and flop into a chair, but when I don’t say anything, he asks, “Well?”
“What do you want me to say, Stryker? Did she walk right in like it’s a suite at the Ritz? No, she’s pissed and wants to plead her case. She can’t believe we’d -or well, you and Conrad- would lock her in a cage in the basement.”
Conrad says nothing, just nods his head in agreement.
Marcela is the next one to speak, “Well, let’s get this shit show of a meeting underway. I’m assuming Stryker wants opinions on what to do with the bitch in the cell. I want her off this team, no questions asked, and I want to turn her over to the higher-ups, to sit in a real jail cell.”
Conrad snaps his gaze over to her. “Are you serious, Marcela? You’ve been tight with her since the beginning, and now you don’t want any answers or to hear from her? Just lock her up and throw away the key? Why don’t we just hang her for her crimes while we’re at it?”
“Great idea! Let’s do that. I’d rather be out looking for BJ than sitting here discussing this. If I don’t get to live a life with my bestie, in it, then I want the person responsible to suffer for it. Right now? That’s looking like it’s Nat and her rag-tag mafia lover,” Marcela yells back at him.
“ENOUGH!” Stryker roars. “We are not turning Nat over to anyone right this moment. What the hell’s wrong with you people? Whether we keep her on the team or not she needs to tell us anything and everything she knows about the Volkovs. Everything said in this room is private between us and only us. We tell no one. NOT A DAMN SOUL!” Stryker pauses, taking a deep breath.
“So with that being sai–” Stryker doesn’t get to finish what he’s saying because the door to the safehouse swings open and in comes BJ.What in the fuck is happening? Where has she been?
“Heeey, my fav group of crime-fighting heroes? Did you miss me?” she purrs as she enters the room, with Lane following behind her. We’re all slack-jawed and wide-eyed while just staring at her. She’s a wreck; her clothes are ripped, and she has a makeshift bandage around her head.Holy hell, is that her natural hair?She must have lost today’s wig in the commotion.
“What? Is there something on my face? Why are you all staring at me like that?” she asks, looking around the room, her eyes stopping at Lane.
He wraps an arm around her. “Oh, my little croissant, they thought the worst for you. We were all searching for you in the rubble at the explosion site, and we couldn’t find you. They were called away to deal with something regarding Nat, so I told them I’d start calling hospitals looking for you.”
“Ohhhh! That. Yes, well, I was out of the building when it happened. My meeting with Marvin and his friend was over, so Marvin and I left. I realized I forgot my purse, and Marvin volunteered to go back for it. Said something about a King who would have his ass if he wasn’t on his best behavior with me. Anyway, I was waiting for him across the street when the whole thing blew to bits. I was thrown back into the building I was standing near, and when I came to, I saw the fire and people running around like crazy. Immediately, I started helping get people to safety. I found Marvin and tended to his wounds until the ambulance came. Have we heard how he is?”
Stryker looks up at BJ. “I’m sorry, BJ. Marvin’s injuries were too severe, and he passed on his way to the hospital.” She gasps, nodding her head in understanding, but we all notice the water filling her eyes as one lone tear runs down her cheek.
I have to ask the question everyone is avoiding or is too wrapped up in the story to ask. “BJ, why are you not at the hospital? You said you were blown back into a building, and then you came to. So I’m going to assume that means you were knocked unconscious. Why are you here and not being seen? No offense, but you look like hell.” She just shrugs her shoulders.
Marcela snickers in her chair, muttering, “That hair looks like hell.” BJ glares at her, but Marcela just smirks back at her.
“I tried to get her to go get checked out when I found her helping to load people into ambulances. She adamantly refused. Then she figured that you would be at Stryker’s safe house, so she demanded I bring her here to see you guys before she went anywhere else. She wouldn’t even let me take her to clean up a bit,” Lane speaks up, explaining for us.
“BJ, you didn’t have to come here right away. You could have gotten checked out or cleaned up if you wanted to. Also, you brought a civilian to the safe house, BJ. What the hell?” Stryker questions with a smart-aleck tone.
“Okay, that’s quite enough. Yes, I was in the explosion’s vicinity. I lost Tina, may she rest in peace,” she says as she runs a hand over her short ashy blonde hair. “I, however, wanted to see my family and wanted to check in with all of you. Lane is more than just a civilian, he’s my family too. Plus, I probably shouldn’t drive after being knocked out. So if I wanted to see you, I had to break protocol. Fire me if you must.”
Jesus, the woman is more torn up over losing Tina the wig than her injuries.
“Okay, well, that was sweet of you, BJ, but you really need to be checked out. Since Stryker has Lewis upstairs checking out Alexie, we’ll have him take a look at you when he’s done,” I tell her in a tone that leaves no room for arguments or questions. Except it’s BJ, so I shouldn’t have expected that to be the end of it.
