Page 34 of In Her Sights
One of the bikers, a guy almost as big as John, stepped into Molly’s path, bringing her to an abrupt halt. With an impatient sound, she tried to skirt around him, but he shifted, blocking her again.
“Move,” she demanded impatiently, locking away the slight tremor of nerves that wanted to make her fingers shake, and the biker narrowed his eyes at her. With him right in front of her and others pressing closer on all sides, Molly felt as if the oxygen in the bar had thinned, and she fought to keep any sign of her growing unease from showing. Although she normally wasn’t claustrophobic, the tension of the crowd, the sour smell of alcohol and anger, seemed to shrink the space. It was too hot, too close. A tickling drop of sweat ran down her lower back.
Before the stranger could say anything, John leaned over her shoulder so that his face was just inches from the biker’s. Molly suddenly felt as if she could take a full breath again. Although John was just slightly taller than the other guy, he managed to loom over him, his expression so ferocious that even Molly had to stop herself from shying away from him, even as she felt the urge to move closer.
The stranger hesitated, his gaze flicking between Molly and John, and she took the opportunity to swerve around his bulk and head for the spot where she’d last seen Sonny. Although it was too loud in the bar to hear anyone’s footsteps, she could feel John at her back, a wall of safety protecting her from the hostile patrons. He’d apparently gotten away from the biker without an unpleasant altercation.
The crowd had massed around the entrance to the bathroom hallway, and Molly muttered rude things under her breath as she worked her way through the throng. She wasn’t sure if the hostile glares she was receiving were because she was chasing Sonny or because she was throwing a thousand fouls worth of elbows. She didn’t care either way, still pressing forward, needing to get clear of the crowd.
A hand on her arm had her swinging around, fist clenched and ready to swing, when she realized that John had her in his grip. She didn’t punch him, but she stayed tense, the aggression of the bar patrons putting her on edge. In just the few seconds she’d stopped pushing forward through the crowd, they’d closed in, one woman even getting close enough to step hard on her foot. Mentally thanking her steel-toed boots, Molly shoved the woman away as John tugged her behind him.
With Carmondy in front, using his significant bulk to clear a path, they moved much more quickly until they reached the hallway where Sonny had disappeared. There were two bathrooms and an emergency-only exit that warned an alarm would sound if the door was opened. Molly was glad to see it, since that meant Sonny had to be in one of the bathrooms. Even with the loud music and the angry mutters of the patrons, she would’ve heard the fire alarm if Sonny had left through that exit.
“Thanks,” Molly said to John once they’d left the worst of the crowd behind. As soon as the press of hostile strangers lightened, her heart rate slowed, and she could take deeper breaths. “Now I know what it’d be like to be mobbed by zombies.” As John chuckled, she felt herself relax slightly, comforted by the warm, familiar sound, and gestured toward the women’s bathroom. “Check the men’s, and I’ll look in here.”
He nodded and turned toward the men’s room as she shoved open the door to the women’s. She entered cautiously, worried that a smaller—but just as angry—crowd of women would be waiting to poke her eyes out with their stilettos or stomp her into the tile with their motorcycle boots. To her relief, the bathroom seemed empty. As the door swung shut, muffling the music from the bar, she eyed the dingy space. Her boots tapped against the worn tiles, her gaze taking in the shadowed stalls and the crack that ran up the dirty, tarnished mirror. She glanced back at the door, tense at the possibility of someone following her into the small room. She could usually hold her own, but there were a lot of people right outside the bathroom who were obviously on Sonny’s side, and she couldn’t fight off an entire mob by herself.
Reaching out, Molly shoved the first stall door open, using a little too much force. The door banged into the partition, making her jump and then feel like an idiot for scaring herself. Shifting to the second stall, she pushed on it more gently this time. The door swung open, revealing a second empty stall, and she exhaled hard, her shoulders relaxing slightly. As she peered around the bathroom again without finding any possible hiding places, she laughed at herself. This search for Sonny was making her ridiculously jumpy.
Cautiously, she cracked the door to the hallway, finding it empty. As she slipped out, the other bathroom door swung open, and she pivoted around to face it, automatically falling into a defensive position. When she realized it was John, she straightened, her fists returning to her sides.
“Nothing?” she asked, even though it was obvious he wasn’t dragging a full-grown man behind him.
“Empty.”
They both turned toward the exit door. “The alarm must be disabled,” Molly said as she hurried over. Despite her certainty, she held her breath as she shoved against the release bar, ready for the piercing squeal of the fire alarm. The door swung open silently, and she stuck her head outside.
The chilly air brushed against her damp face, making her realize how warm the bar was. She peered down the dim alley, checking both directions. Except for the dumpster that she’d warned John about, the narrow lane was empty. Frustration rose in her chest, squeezing her lungs. Sonny’d had too much time to get away. The crowd had succeeded in giving him enough of a head start to escape. Without a direction, Molly knew they had no hope of finding him.
John made an irritated sound, and Molly turned to meet his gaze. “I know. It sucks. At least we know he hasn’t left town…yet. Should we go back and see what we can pry out of the zombies? Someone has to know where he’s been crashing.”
He looked unhappy about this idea. “That’s a pretty hostile bunch. You shouldn’t go back in there.”
Although a big part of her bristled at the implication that she couldn’t take care of herself, an even bigger part was relieved. She didn’t want to question the bar patrons, and John was giving her an out. She’d be an idiot to insist on endangering them for a slight chance that someone in the crowd was willing to talk.
Letting out a disappointed huff of air, she stepped into the alley. When John didn’t immediately follow, she turned to raise a questioning eyebrow. “You weren’t planning on staying, were you?” Her stomach churned with concern at the thought of him alone in Dutch’s. Sure, he was a strong guy, but even he couldn’t fight off dozens of people if they meant him harm. Who knew how many were armed, too. The bouncer hadn’t checked the two of them for weapons, and they weren’t even regulars.
“No.” John finally followed her out, and she released the door so it swung shut behind him. “I was just surprised you didn’t insist on staying.”
She shrugged, not wanting to admit that she’d considered it out of foolish pride, even though it had just been for a moment or two. “I have a greater sense of self-preservation than that.”
“I…” Whatever he had been about to say was lost when his voice trailed off, his eyes locked on the back of a neighboring building. Molly followed his gaze to a door that was cracked open just an inch or two. Turning her head, she exchanged a speaking look with John, and they both moved quietly toward the slightly open door.
“You armed?” he asked so quietly that she could barely hear him.
“Depends how you define arms.” Slipping her Taser from her pants pocket, she held it at her side. “You?”
“No gun.” His gaze stayed fixed on the dark gap between the door and the frame as they moved closer to the building. “I do have arms, though.”
She was pretty sure he flexed, although her attention, like his, was focused on the slightly open door. A touch of amusement ran through her, but it was quickly swallowed by apprehension. Who knew what kind of danger hid in the shadows of the warehouse?
When they were just a few feet from the door, Molly reached her free hand toward the edge, intending to push it open, but there was suddenly a huge man in her way. With a glare at the broad back in front of her, blocking her way and even her view of the entry, she dodged around him, giving him a sharp elbow in the side. Even if he was just trying to be chivalrous, it was still a ridiculous thing to do.
Easing the door open, she took a cautious step inside, grateful for John’s watchful presence at her back. The murky ambient light illuminated the interior just enough to see shadows and forms. Dust and the lingering hint of old chemicals prickled her nose. Before she could take a second step, a darting movement caught her attention. Molly sucked in a startled breath and spun to face the threat, her entire focus on who—or what—was in the dark space with them. Before she could race after whoever it was, the world behind them lit up, whiting out her vision. She didn’t have time to think or plan or even duck before a ferocious boom sounded, so loud that she felt it through her entire body.
John! her brain screamed, even as she knew it was too late to help him. The explosion had already sent her flying forward, weightless, from the force of the blast.
