Page 51 of Warrior

The phone in my hand vibrates and I flip it open.

Zane: Be there in three minutes. Don’t shoot me.

I laugh out loud and shake my head before dashing up the stairs to shower and change. Zane is chilling on the couch when I get back downstairs with an orange Fanta in his hands.

“Street explained to you, I take it?” he asks.

“Yeah, well, as much as he could anyway.” I nod and move to sit on the couch with him.

“Bullet is in the office right now, watching the cameras. We’ll be here all night, but you don’t have to keep us company, okay? Feel free to go sleep or eat or whatever you need to do, alright?”

My nose scrunches. “Eat and sleep? Is that all you think I’ve been doing with my captivity time?”

“It's what I would do.” He shrugs his shoulders and I laugh. We sit and watch reruns ofSouthlandon TV.

After a while, my eyes grow heavy and I stretch across the couch to lie down. Zane and Bullet change shifts and murmur quietly between themselves. The phone on the table stays silent, and I take that as a good sign. When Bullet comes out of the office, I’m barely awake but I hear the murmuring.

“He’s back already.”

Zane answers, but I don’t stir. Colt. I fall asleep with a smile on my lips.

Chapter 23

Colt

The ride back to Braham takes longer than I would like. I check my phone over and over again, feeling desperate to get back to her.

Deveroix wasn’t there and he never showed up in the hours I waited. My gut didn’t feel right. Even though Zane and Bullet both confirmed that everything was fine, there was a sinking dread in my stomach that I couldn’t explain. I put off the hit for another evening until I could track him again and decided to head home.

Unease grows in my stomach when I pull up outside the house. The entire place is dark. I guess she could have gone to bed. They could be holed up in the office. I didn’t get a chance to let them know what was happening because my phone had shitty service most of the ride, and I had been in too much of a hurry. Still, the closer I get, the more I notice something doesn’t feel right. I barely park when a dark figure in the trees catches my attention. Bending down, I manage to get to the side of the house and crouch, gauging what I saw. My fingers itch to grab my phone and alert the guys, but the glow from the face of myphone is enough to stop me. My eyes scan the yard again, but I don’t see a fucking thing. I feel blind.

My heart is hammering in my chest. The sick feeling that I’m missing something is nagging me. Fear for Lyric sends shivers down my spine. Imagining her in danger, scared, and needing me is my fatal flaw in this moment.

My brain doesn’t register until it happens. An arm wraps around my neck. Mine starts thrashing, ready to grapple. My jaw clenches, right as there's a small poke to the side of my neck followed by a stinging sensation. I feel my legs go weak; my muscles unable to coordinate. I swear I hear Lyric scream. My eyes try to track where she’s at, where I am, only, my vision is blurring. I lift my arm in one last attempt to elbow the person behind me before everything goes dark.

“Colt,” Lyric’s voice whispers my name over and over. It sounds like she’s praying, and I have to take a minute to make sure I didn’t die. That this isn’t heaven and she’s not crying over my casket. My legs feel sluggish. There’s a pain behind my eyes, and it feels like I took a beating around my rib cage. My brain scrambles to put together my last memories. The house. I was back because Deveroix was gone. The unease. The shadow in the woods. The prick of a needle.

I open my eyes and instantly have to squeeze them shut. There’s barely any light, but the sliver of the moon is almost too bright and it's right in my eyes. I blink over and over, clearing my vision, trying to figure out where the hell I am. I push myself up against a wall and realize I’m on the floor. My ears are ringing.

“Colt?” I hear Lyric again. This time my head turns toward her voice. “Oh, thank god.”

“Lyric.” I say her name, panic rising in my gut, because she’s real. She’s here with me and she’s kneeling on the floor. I see the duct tape on her wrists and ankles. I try to move toward her, but she shakes her head frantically at me, tears falling down her face. All my mind sees is red. The woman I love has been hurt and I need to get to her. In this moment, I’d rather take a few rounds of bullets to the chest than see the fear and hopelessness that’s written across her face.

“Are you okay?” I ask. Words feel foreign on my tongue and my voice is scratchy. I swallow a few times, trying to ease the feeling of swallowing wood splinters away.

“Are you?” she asks, looking at me like she used to when I would make her mad in high school. Like she can’t believe I would dare get hurt.

It must be the drugs because I can’t help but grin. Trying to force my body up straighter, I peer at her. “Is it Deveroix?”

“Yes,” Lyric answers, her eyes brimming with tears.

“Where are Squirrel and Bullet?” I ask, hating the way my throat tightens.

Lyric’s eyes drop to the floor. “I don’t know. They got a message that you were back; they saw your bike pull up and they left. There was a knock on the door, and I thought maybe you lost the key. I didn’t even think about it, I missed you and opened the door. God, I was stupid, Colt.”

“You’re not stupid, Lyric,” I shut her down quickly on that train of thought.

“I tried to close the door and activate the alarm again, but he shoved his way in. I ran but he knocked me to the ground.” She ends her story and I want so badly to get free so I can make him pay for touching her.

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