Time for Elias to man up. He stepped closer, waiting for Dutch to extend his hand. When he did, Elias shook it. “Iona is right. Thank you for offering me a place to stay. I was worried about Iona’s safety. You know how law enforcement is. If they tried again to take me out, I didn’t want them to miss me and hit her by mistake.”
“We’re family. Go rest and heal.”
“Thank you, sir. Good night.”
Dutch gave a nod and glanced at one of his men, who motioned for Elias and Iona to follow him.
Like they would get lost between here and the front door. Elias rested his hand against Iona’s lower back. As they walkedto the door, the Blackthorn rider signaled someone in the shadows to their right.
Iona’s fingers curled into her palms.
For Elias, time slowed to a crawl as his mind mapped out what would happen before the execution of the plan. He gripped his Sig, slid it from the holster, and held it by his thigh.
Iona activated her wrist sheath, and a split-second later, a silver blade skimmed along her palm as Elias raised his weapon.
A man emerged from the shadows with a Glock 21 in his hand, the muzzle pointed at Elias. He raised the weapon and sighted his target.
“Gun!” Iona jerked her hand up and snapped her wrist. The blade of her knife sank deep into the attacker’s neck as Elias pulled the trigger.
The enemy flew backward and slammed into the wall. He slowly slid to the ground, leaving a trail of red behind him.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
WITH HIS WEAPONup and ready, Elias quartered the area, alert for more enemy combatants. Had this man, dressed in black from head to toe, brought friends with him, or was this a one-man show?
Their teammates returned, weapons in hand.
Blackthorn Riders ran into the room from every direction and halted when faced with armed Fortress operatives and a dead body.
With his teammates surrounding him and blocking his movements, Elias used his phone to snap a picture of the man’s face and sent it to Zane for him to run the picture through their facial recognition database. Afterward, he drew Iona into the shadows and scanned the faces of Blackthorn’s members.
Last to join the party was Dutch. He scowled, looking from one Fortress operative to another. “What happened here?”
Elias stepped in front of Iona. “You tell me. I trusted you with my Old Lady’s safety.” He pointed at the dead man. “This guy tried to kill me. Who is he?”
“Not one of ours.” Dutch looked at each of his men in the room. “Who dishonored me by allowing a killer into our midst to assassinate a guest?”
No one said a word.
Seth looked at Elias, who signaled that the tall linebacker in the corner with a smug look on his face had something to do with it. With a single hand signal from Seth, Noah and Andre slippedthrough the crowd and forced Linebacker to stand in front of Dutch.
Seth motioned to Linebacker. “Why don’t you ask him how the enemy slipped into your compound?”
Dutch froze. “Heath? What have you done?”
“What you should have taken care of yourself.” Heath raised his chin and stared at his president.
Elias moved into a better position to protect Iona as his mind raced. What did this mean? Did the Blackthorn Riders know who he was and that he’d walked away from the Reckoners?
“I gave my word,” Dutch roared. “That means something to me.”
“We shouldn’t be protecting him. He’ll bring trouble.”
Dutch looked at his vice-president. “Red, get him out of here. Heath is not welcome in our compound anymore. And no more holes in security. We have obligations to fulfill in a couple of days. If something like this happens again, you won’t like the consequences.”
Several of the Blackthorn Riders exchanged grim glances, but none of them interfered with Red and an enforcer when they grabbed Heath’s arms and forced him to leave the clubhouse.
Dutch turned to Seth. “I apologize. I didn’t know this would happen.”
