Page 66 of Fury
Twelve
Diane
I press myself against the rough brick wall, heart pounding so hard I can feel it in my throat. The alley stinks of garbage and piss, but it's the only cover I've found in the last hour of running. My legs burn, my lungs scream for air, but I don't dare take a deep breath.
They're close. Too close.
Three days. That's how long I've been in town, hiding in a cheap motel on the outskirts, trying to gather enough cash to run again. Three days of jumping at shadows, of sleeping in short bursts with a chair propped against the door.
I shouldn't have come here. I knew it was stupid, dangerous. But I needed money, and the only people I know with that kind of cash are here.
I need to get to Livie.
The irony isn't lost on me. After everything I put her through, after using her, lying to her, endangering her life—now she's my only hope. But Livie has always been too forgiving, too tenderhearted. If I can just explain, make her understand how desperate I am…
Footsteps echo at the end of the alley. Heavy, deliberate. Not the casual stride of a passerby.
They've found me.
I peer around the dumpster, my breath catching at the sight of two men in dark suits scanning the alley. They don't look like mob enforcers from the movies, no track suits or gold chains. They look like businessmen, which somehow makes them more terrifying.
I know what these men do to people who cross them. I've heard the recordings.
My only option is to make it to Devil Souls territory. Even these men won't risk starting a war with two motorcycle clubs just to get to me. If I can reach Livie, explain that I never meant for any of this to happen…
I duck low and sprint toward the opposite end of the alley, my feet silent on the wet pavement. Just three more blocks to the edge of club territory. Two more miles to Greyson Reed's house, where Livie has been staying. I googled him and found the address. It’s out of town, but I can make it. I have to.
"There!" The shout echoes behind me, followed by the pounding of dress shoes on concrete.
I run faster than I've ever run in my life, lungs burning, legs pumping. I cross one street, then another. The familiar landmarks of downtown coming into view. I'm close. So close.
I'm halfway down the block when a black SUV screeches to a halt in front of me. The door flies open and a man I don't recognize lunges out, grabbing me before I can change direction.
"No!" I thrash in his grip as he drags me toward the vehicle. "LIVIE! PLEASE!"
But the men are faster. The one holding me throws me into the back seat of the SUV, climbing in after me. The other men pile in, the doors slamming shut as the driver accelerates away from the curb.
"Diane Mercer." The man beside me speaks with a slight accent I can't place. His face is unremarkable, the kind you'd pass on the street without a second glance. "You've caused quite a lot of trouble."
I swallow hard, trying to control my trembling. "There's been a misunderstanding. I never meant?—"
"Save it," he cuts me off. "Mr. Volkov doesn't care about your intentions. He cares about results. And the result of your actions is that several of his business associates are now under federal investigation, thanks to the material you distributed."
"I didn't distribute anything!" I protest, panic rising. "I just—I just wanted some money. I was going to keep it all quiet!"
"Blackmail is distribution of a kind," he replies calmly. "And now Mr. Volkov needs to understand exactly what you've shared, and with whom."
The SUV turns down a road leading out of town, away from any hope of rescue. I think frantically, trying to find a way out of this nightmare.
"It wasn't me," I blurt out, the lie forming before I can stop it. "It was Livie—Olivia Bennett. She's the one who found the recordings. She's the one who came up with the blackmail plan."
The man raises an eyebrow, clearly skeptical.
"It's true!" I press on, desperation making my voice high and thin. "I just went along with it because she threatened me. She has connections. Her father is Wilder Bennett, vice president of the Grim Sinners. Her boyfriend is Greyson Reed. They're the ones who have been using the information to control territory!"
The men exchange glances, and I sense a shift in the atmosphere. They're listening now.
"Olivia Bennett," the man repeats, pulling out a phone. "Daughter of Wilder Bennett."
