"Three."
I bolt through the door after James, my heart pounding in my chest like it might break through my ribs. The air outside is thick with the acrid smell of gunpowder and fear. Our apartment building looks like something from a war zone: windows shattered, bullet holes peppering the facade, glass crunching beneath my feet as I run.
James stumbles ahead of me, his movements clumsy from alcohol and panic. Behind me, I hear Steel's steady footfalls, his presence somehow reassuring despite the chaos. A man I should fear is now the only thing standing between us and death.
"Keep moving," Steel calls, his voice low and urgent. "Don't stop."
I clutch my backpack tighter, grateful for the automatic way my brain functioned during those crucial moments. Grandma's heart medication. The last photo of Mom and Dad. My nursing school acceptance letter I still can't bear to part with. The essentials of my life, reduced to what I could grab in thirty seconds.
The corner store is only a block away, but it feels like miles. Every shadow makes me flinch, every sound a potential threat. The distant wail of sirens tells me someone has called the police about the shooting, but they won't arrive in time to help us.
We're halfway there when I hear it. The distinctive rumble of motorcycles approaching from behind. Steel hears it too.
"Run!" he shouts, no longer concerned with stealth. "Get to the store! Now!"
James breaks into a sprint, his duffel bag bouncing against his side. I push my legs harder, lungs burning, but I'm not fast enough. The motorcycles round the corner behind us, engines roaring like beasts coming for us.
A strong hand grabs my arm, yanking me sideways between two buildings. Steel pulls me against him in the narrow alleyway, his body shielding mine as bullets ricochet off the brick wall beside us. The sound is deafening, chips of brick dust raining down on us.
"I need you to trust me right now. Stay still," he breathes against my ear, his arm like an iron band around my waist.
I freeze, barely daring to breathe. Steel's body is solid and warm against my back, his heart pounding against my shoulder blade. His gun is extended in his free hand, ready to fire if the shooters approach our hiding place.
The motorcycles roar past the alley entrance, apparently not seeing us duck in here. The gunfire continues as they pursue James toward the corner store. I try to call out for my brother, but Steel's hand clamps over my mouth.
"Don't," he whispers. "They'll double back if they hear you."
Tears sting my eyes as the sounds of gunfire and engines fade slightly. James is out there alone, running for his life because of his stupid choices, and I can't do anything to help him.
"My brother," I manage to choke out when Steel removes his hand.
"He'll make it to the store," Steel says, his voice steady but tense. "My crew will be there any minute. He'll be okay."
I want to believe him, but the fear coursing through my veins makes it hard to believe anything good can come from this nightmare.
Steel peers cautiously around the corner of the building, then pulls back quickly. "They're circling the block. We can't stay here." His eyes scan the alley, settling on a rusty fire escape. "Up. Now."
I don't question him. My waitressing job has made me stronger than I look, and I pull myself up the ladder with relative ease, Steel close behind me. We climb to the second floor landing and press ourselves against the brick wall, out of sight from the street.
The landing is cramped, barely enough space for two people. Old paint peels from the railing, and the metal groans beneath our combined weight. I hold my breath, praying it will support us.
From this vantage point, I can see the corner store in the distance, but the angle is wrong to see if James made it inside. The two motorcycles idle below us, their riders looking in all directions, searching for us.
"Stay quiet," Steel whispers, positioning himself between me and the railing, blocking me with his body. His gun is still in his hand, though he keeps it low and out of sight.
Steel's chest presses against mine, his breathing steady but rapid. Despite the danger, despite everything, my body responds to him in ways I don't have time to process. Heat radiates from him, and I can smell leather and motor oil.
Below us, one of the riders dismounts and walks slowly down the alley, looking for signs of where we went. My heart hammers so loudly I'm certain he'll hear it. Steel's arm tightens around me, pulling me impossibly closer, and I realize he's trying to make us as small as possible against the wall.
The rider stops directly below our fire escape. I can see the Iron Eagles patch on his cut, a vicious bird of prey with talonsextended. He lights a cigarette, the smoke drifting up toward us, and pulls out his phone.
"Lost them," he says into it. "Yeah, they ducked into an alley somewhere on Third. Nah, the brother made it to the store before we could grab him. Savage Riders showed up." A pause. "Yeah, five of them. We pulled back."
Steel's jaw clenches against my temple. His finger rests on the trigger guard of his gun, ready but not yet committed to firing.
"What do you want us to do?" the rider continues. "The mechanic had a girl with him... Yeah, probably the sister." Another pause. "Got it. We'll keep looking."
He ends the call and takes another drag of his cigarette before flicking it into a puddle and climbing back on his bike. The two riders circle the block once more before finally roaring off into the distance.
