Chapter 23
Gage
It’s dark by the time we arrive at the warehouse, an ominous silhouette against a backdrop of scattered stars. The abandoned building looms tall and foreboding, its boarded-up windows glaring down at us like hollow eyes.
We pull our bikes back some distance, killing the engines. My pulse quickens, we can’t afford for the Rusted Scythes to hear our approach. The sudden stillness descends on us like a fog. There are no lights on, which means the watch is here, but Eli isn’t, or the Rusted Scythes are lying in wait, having somehow anticipated our arrival.
Ace wordlessly instructs us to approach the building from the side, signaling with his hand while he grips his gun tightly in the other. The atmosphere is charged as he leads the way, a silent sentinel of determination. I follow closely, flanked by Cash and the three other men we called in for backup—our most trusted men. It would have been better if we’d brought the entire MC, ready to reap vengeance against our enemy for taking our woman, but we don’t know who to trust. If we were wrong about Cherri, if there was another traitor in our midst, our plan would be foiled, the entire mission would crumble, and we’d lose the precious element of surprise. So, we asked only those closest to us, those we knew were loyal.
The night air is heavy with tension as we creep closer, and every sharp snap of twigs underfoot sends my nerves rattling, heightening my anticipation of an ambush. As we round thecorner, I see two motorcycles parked outside, the only indication that anyone is here. Though surely, they didn’t bring Eli and Naomi here on the back of their bikes? Whoever took them, it must have been by car, but there’s no sign of any other vehicles.
I glance back at Cash, who wears a puzzled expression that mirrors my own, both of us grappling with the same unsettling conclusion. Nevertheless, we press on through sheer determination and will. We can’t turn back now. The windows are all boarded up, which hopefully means they won’t see us coming, though it also means we can’t see inside, a fact that gnaws at me. What if they’re watching us right now? In my gut, I feel confident that there aren’t many of them here. Perhaps they’re satisfied that we will never find them, secure and confident with their hiding spot. Without the GPS watch, we wouldn’t have known they were here. I try to push down the seed of doubt that blossoms with every breath, the fear that we’re already too late.
That something is not right.
Ace finds a window where the boards are loose and, with feral determination, pries them off with his bare hands, working quickly with the others. The sound of splintering wood echoes into the night, breaking the stillness. Once the boards are removed a large window is revealed, the pane smashed long ago, slivers of glass glinting on the floor in the weak moonlight We climb in, landing with a soft thud that reverberates through the room and kicks up dust. It’s eerily quiet inside. The hairs on the back of my neck stand up as the feeling that something is wrong grows stronger with each step. The silence is oppressive, all-encompassing, wrapping around me like a shroud. The ominous sense of foreboding only grows stronger the further we tread into the building.
I have the sudden, sickening vision of finding Naomi and Eli dead, bloodied and broken, abandoned in this hellhole. I feel as if I’m drowning in death. It emanates from the pores of the building, as if the walls themselves could swallow you whole, absorbing you into the fabric of the place. I wonder then if finding nothing would be worse.
Suppose Naomi and Eli have simply vanished, leaving nothing but echoes of their presence behind? I would never stop searching. I’d travel into hell to bring her back.
The vast room we’re in feels endless as we make our way to the door. I feel like I’m wading through treacle and time seems to have stopped. I strain to hear, something, anything. I need a sign that Naomi is here. But the only sound is my own labored breath, the hammering of my heart, and the sounds of our footsteps on the concrete floor.
Finally, after what feels like an eternity, we reach the door at the other end of the room. Ace reaches out to open it, and it flies open, like the building is possessed. I don’t know who’s more surprised, us or the man on the other side, whose jaw drops at the sight of us. He scrambles for his pistol, which is holstered at his side, but Ace is quicker. He slams the butt of his rifle into the man’s face, quickly and quietly incapacitating him.
“Make a sound, and I’ll slit your throat,” he hisses, drawing a blade as he roughly grabs the man.
Dazed and confused, but hearing the seriousness in Ace’s voice, the man nods. I move to take his weapon off him while Cash binds his arms behind his back with a zip tie.
“Where are they?” Ace asks. He doesn’t need to say who.
The man jerks his head in the direction he just came from, “Through there.” His voice is heavy with fear, his eyes wide and remorseful. “Listen, I have a family. I didn’t want to hurt anyone,” he pleads.
Ace ignores him. “How many guards?”
All I can think about is why the man said he didn’t want to hurt anyone. Does that mean he already has? I grip my gun tighter, pointing it at him. It would be so easy to take my revenge, just one squeeze of the trigger. Sensing the rage emanating from my pores, the man’s gaze nervously darts to me as he answers Ace’s question.
“Just one more.” He swallows nervously.
It lines up with the bikes outside, but why would they only have two men guarding Naomi and Eli? Again, I have the premonition that something is wrong.
Ace must feel the same way since he says, “If you’re lying to me, I’ll kill you.” He presses the knife a little closer, and a drop of blood, no more than if he nicked himself shaving, blooms on the man’s neck.
The man goes to shake his head, then thinks better of it and abruptly freezes. “It’s the truth, I swear.”
“Take him outside,” Ace grunts, thrusting the man toward Goliath. He’s one of our club brothers that we knew we could trust. Built like a mountain and loyal as fuck. Goliath nods, seemingly disappointed to miss out on any action, but obeys anyway. Ace is Prez, and his word is final. Goliath grabs the man, one giant hand wrapping around his arm with ease, and marches him away. The man follows, torn between relief that the encounter is over and fear that he’s being taken outside tobe executed. I know Goliath won’t touch the man. We won’t hurt anyone unless we have to, that’s not our way. Unlike the Rusted Scythes, we don’t harm innocents or those who surrender.
We work our way down the corridor, illuminating it in the beam of a flashlight, checking off each room as we go—a bathroom with sinks hanging off the wall, cracked tiles, and broken toilets, an old filing room, an empty storage closet—until only one room remains unexplored. My heart hammers in my chest; fear and hopeful anticipation course through me at the prospect of finding Naomi.
We get into position, surrounding the door, our weapons raised. Ace reaches for the door and knocks. Seconds later, a burly goon answers, unlocking the door and grumbling, “That was quick.” When faced with a rifle pointed at his head instead of his friend, the man’s expression is comically shocked. Like the other man, he doesn’t put up a fight. I wonder if the Rusted Scythes are cowards or smart, perhaps both. They certainly don’t seem loyal to Chopper’s cause. This gives me hope that we can take them down. If the Rusted Scythes’ men aren’t invested in this war, perhaps we can convince them to stop without further bloodshed. Instead of a whole army of men, we just need to stop Chopper.
“Guns. Now!” Ace orders, his own weapon never wavering from its target. His voice is steady and commanding.
The man complies, slowly removing it and tossing it away. It skitters across the floor, landing close to the guys at the back who pick it up and pocket it. I strain to see behind the man’s bulk as he holds up his hands in surrender, blocking the door. Although he can clearly hold his own in a fight, he’s smart enough to know he stands no chance against six armed men.
“Move!” Ace barks, pushing the man inside, who stumbles backwards, and following him.
Again, with synchronized ease, the others tie our latest hostage up. I push past, desperate to catch a glimpse of Naomi. I need to know that this feeling that we’re too late is just that, a feeling. My breath catches when I see a figure in the corner of the room, slumped forward.
