“What if they want to leave, Thump?” I persist. I have to get him to incriminate himself or this isn’t going to work.
“Is this about your little girly the other night, Christian? The one you stormed in here to save?”
“You would have drugged her, right?” I ask. “Get her addicted. Make her work for you.”
Thump chuckles and shrugs. “Easier than asking ‘em.”
“So you admit it!” I roar, the anger rising inside me. “You admit to being a piece of shit, trafficking in women and—”
“Of course I admit it!” Thump bellows. “I’m smart, Christian! That’s what you never understood. The Red Lions have grown huge since you left, and it’s all thanks to these lovely ladies!”
Got him.
“Smart, huh?” I ask. “Not smart enough to see this coming.”
Defiantly, I grab the hem of my shirt and pull it up so he can see the mic. For a second, he doesn’t get it, but when he does, his face drops.
“You son of a—”
He reaches into his pants and grabs the revolver.
“Now, Bryant!” I shout. “Now!”
Thump raises the gun and I duck for cover. Then the shot rings out.
18
Claire
There’s something going on. Christian may have thought he was being slick when he lied to me, but I knew he was hiding something. But I also knew better than to press him on it. He had a reason for not telling me, and I’m sure that reason was a good one. I’m not worried about him lying to me, but I am worried about him.
This thing with the Red Lions…I know it’s related to that. It’s the reason I’m here and not at home or at work. Those men are dangerous, and if Christian is going to deal with them, that means he’s in danger too.
But Christian already handled them once; he can do it again. Right?
The worst part about all this is the waiting. I’ve been alone all day, either sitting on the couch or walking around out front waiting for him to come back. And the longer I wait, the more terrible the scenarios get that I play out in my mind. If only this place had Netflix…
I’m just about to finish my 75th lap around the living room when I hear the sound of a truck coming up the drive. My heart leaps and I race outside, but it’s not Christian’s truck I see coming toward me; it’s a black sedan with tinted windows.
My stomach twists into a knot and I bolt back inside and lock the door.
“No…” I gasp as my breath comes in shallow, panicked breaths. “No, no, no, no, no…”
That’s not Christian’s truck. That’s not Christian. No one knows about this place. I was supposed to wait for him here. If it’s not him…that means something happened to him.
I don’t know what to do. The door is locked and the bunker should be impossible for anyone to get into, but I grab a knife from the kitchen area and clutch it with both hands as I listen.
The car pulls up out front and parks, and I hear the sound of two doors opening and closing. Then, there’s a muffled knock.
“Claire! Claire, open up, it’s me!”
Christian!
My heart leaps. I throw the knife into the sink, race to the door, and unlock it to find him standing in front of me wearing no shirt, with a bandage wrapped around his right arm. There’s another man standing beside him, but I barely even notice him.
“You’re hurt!” I say, rushing to Christian’s side.
“It’s nothing,” he replies.