Page 58 of Graveyards & Greed

I ran to my gun safe, strapped on a double pocket waist holster, and slid my favorite guns inside. Then I yanked a jacket off my bedpost as anger, hatred, and pure adrenaline heated my system. It seemed like we’d been toying with each other until now, but I was done fucking around with these psychos.

“Do you need to borrow a gun?” I asked Drakos as I threw my jacket on.

“No. I came prepared this time.” He put on a shoulder holster, slid his gun inside, and turned to me. “Let's go. I’ll drive while you call the police and your cousins.” He was already halfway to the door.

The engine of Drakos's black Range Rover roared to life, cutting through the thick, choking silence. The morning sky shone a brilliant blue, clashing with the fear and urgency crawling through me.

“Damn it,” I muttered, dialing Fennick’s number.

“Hey, Sylvie. You still slumming with that fuck boy attorney, or do you want to meet us for breakfast? Kil’s with me.”

I ignored his needling for once. “Trina's in trouble. MC members are at her apartment complex, looking for her and Camilla.” I struggled to keep my voice even and my panic at bay as Drakos raced through the streets.

“Shit!” Fennick spat.

“This is Kilian. Give me the address.” I recited it, and he must have plugged it into their navigation because I heard a robotic female voice tell Fenn to turn left on Flamingo Road. “We're about eight minutes out, so keep everyone alive until we get there,” Kilian instructed.

Fenn broke in. “Except Creed. Don’t worry about keeping him alive.”

Drakos shook his head. “Good morning, and fuck you too, asshole. We’ll be there before you. Don’t accidentally shoot me.” Their humor couldn’t cut through the terror gripping me.

I hung up, clutching my phone in a white-knuckled grip as I gave Drakos directions. He drove like the devil himself was in pursuit, his jaw set, eyes fixed on the road ahead. “I assume you’ve been to their apartment complex. So when we get there, what’s the plan?”

“Working on it,” I replied, my mind racing.

Minutes later, Drakos pulled into Trina’s parking lot. There weren’t any police vehicles around, but two motorcycles and a black tricked-out SUV were parked in the handicapped spots.

Drakos shook his head. “Stay low and don’t get hurt.”

I opened my door. “Ditto.”

My heart slammed against my ribs like a jackhammer. We slipped out of his car, darting between any cover we could find. I studied the building, then pointed toward the back entryway. Drakos nodded. The door screeched open and I winced. Inside, we headed up the dimly lit stairwell.

“Do you know which apartment number?” Drakos asked quietly. I nodded. “Third floor, number thirty-seven. She’s about halfway down the hall on the left side.” As we took the stairs, I heard someone pounding on a door on the second floor. I hoped like hell the bikers hadn’t hit the third floor yet.

My pulse thumped in my ears, almost drowning out the distant sound of a television blaring from one of the apartments. Drakos pushed me behind him and pulled the door open a crack. “Clear,” he murmured.

I slumped in relief as he opened the door wide. The smell of bacon and disinfectant hit us. Plants, shoes, and other items were in the hallway, but no bikers.

Drakos scanned the hallway. “Call me on FaceTime, then prop your phone at the end of the hallway so the camera faces Trina’s door.” I stared at him blankly, then understanding clicked, and I realized he was creating a makeshift, temporary surveillance camera. I nodded and dialed him. He picked up my video call, and I saw his face on the screen as he scanned the hallway.

Looking around, I quickly propped my phone up on a pair of dirty work boots a tenant had left outside his apartment door. I positioned my phone so the camera faced down the hall toward Trina’s front door.

His eyes scanned the hallway as we stalked to Trina’s apartment. I knocked three times. “Trina, it’s me and Drakos,” I called softly.

Her deadbolt tumbled open and Trina cracked the door. “Sylvie? Where are the police?” Her voice shook. She seemed older than the last time I’d seen her, and her dark black hair was grayer than I remembered.

“I don’t know. Kilian called them too.” Down the hallway, I heard the old elevator door ding. “Hurry, let us in.” She slid the safety chain off, swung the door open, and we slipped inside.

Quickly, she re-engaged the lock and turned to us. “Did they follow you here?” Her gaze flicked to Drakos.

“No, we came up the back stairs. Where’s Camilla?”

“I told her to lock herself in the bathroom. She's so scared they’re going to hurt her again.” Trina’s eyes filled with tears. “I called the police, but they didn’t believe the men were here for us. They told me to call again if they harassed me. I want this to stop.”

Guilt and red-hot anger swam through me, but I stuffed it down and hugged her. “I know. The men will be on this floor any second. Go lock yourself in with Camilla and keep her calm. We’re both armed, so we’ll stay out here until the police come.”

She glanced at the gun in Drakos’s holster. “Okay. Be careful,hija.” She started down the hallway, but I called after her. “Trina, if you hear gunfire, don’t come out until I tell you it’s safe.”

---