Page 42 of StoryTeller's Tale

“Sorry,” comes the reply from the man who’s not apologetic at all. “They can’t talk right now.” Then after a pause, he adds, “Or ever.”

“You’ve just signed your fuckin’ death warrant,” Knuckles screeches. The words are accompanied by a heavy banging on the door. “You killed my brothers, asshole.”

StoryTeller does that thing where he seems to talk to himself. After a moment, he nods and descends the stairs.

He approaches our huddle. “Stay together and keep out of sight.”

I rise from my position among the others and go to him. “How the hell are we going to get out of this?”

If I’m hyperventilating, who could blame me. My adrenaline’s going to run out sometime, and then I’ll crash. But until then, I’m buzzing with energy. “What can I do?”

He gives me an admiring look and places his hand on my cheek. “You did good, babe. You know that? If it hadn’t been you giving me that opening, well, things would be very different now. But don’t worry, my brothers are close by, and they’ve got this. All we’ve got to do is wait for the cavalry.” At my worried look toward the door, he chuckles. “Fucker’s reinforced that door. Now what’s keeping us in is keeping them out. We’ve just got to sit tight.”

“How will your brothers know what’s going on?” Carole must think it’s a reasonable question to ask.

Again, his lips curve in mirth. Strangely, he pushes his long hair back over his ear, and leans close, pointing to something inside it.

As her brow furrows, he explains, “It’s a bug. They can hear everything that’s going on and I can speak to them.”

They what?His brothers can hear everything?Oh my God. They know what we did.How will I ever be able to face them?

“Sheri?” StoryTeller must catch my expression, and I realise I’m distracting him from his job. And really, if his brothers can do the impossible and free us, I can take a little embarrassment. After all, I’ll never see them again.

I try a weak smile to signify as far as possible, I’m alright. He gives a sharp nod. After his head has tilted to one side for a moment, he says, “They’re coming in now.”

I suppose there’s nothing I can do but wait and worry. I return to the other women and let them know help is on its way. From the looks they give me, I’m not sure they believe me.

Suddenly gunshots sound from the floor above. Kelly and Leah scream and clutch at each other, while Carole looks to me in dismay.

“They can’t get in,” I tell her. “It’s StoryTeller’s friends. They’re here to get us out.”

Heaven knows how many of StoryTeller’s brothers there are. There’s only four Dominators left as far as I can tell but it sounds like a full-fledged battle going on overhead.

Suddenly after another barrage of gunfire, there’s an explosion that rocks the whole house.

“Goddamnit!” StoryTeller shouts, grabbing onto the banister to stop himself from falling down the stairs. He leaps out of danger, then, seeing the women flinch and scream in terror, he makes a visible effort to calm his voice. “It’s okay. We’re safe.”

Safe? I eye the ceiling above us from which flecks of plaster are coming down, falling like the first flakes of snow in winter. I stand and cautiously make my way across to him. “What’s happened?”

As he beckons me closer, with a wary eye on the women behind, I gather he doesn’t want to alarm them. “Dominators fuckin’ rigged the house to blow up.”

My hand goes to my mouth. “Any of your guys hurt?”

He seems surprised that’s the first thing I’ve asked. “Superficial cuts and bruises, and two of the Dominators have used the confusion to escape. But we’ve got a problem.”

I raise my eyes to him, then twitch my nose. With growing horror, I realise what he’s going to say next before he gets the words out.

“The fuckin’ house is on fire.”

CHAPTERFOURTEEN

STORYTELLER

Having told Sheri about our predicament, I turn my attention back to the voice in my ear.

“Knuckles must have had a plan for if they were ever under attack. He’s set off explosives, hoping to destroy all the evidence. We got a couple of them, Brother, but Knuckles and one other have run. Skunk and Pothead have gone after them.”

Much as I’d rather they were all dead, dealing with them is for later, once we’re safely out. “Tell me more about the fuckin’ bomb. What’s our escape route like?”

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