David slides into the seat beside Molly, slamming the door behind him. Another man that I remember was called Diesel slides into the front passenger seat. Crusher takes the driver’s seat. And then we’re moving, the car accelerating so quickly that I’m thrown back.
Crusher takes corners at breakneck speed, sending me sliding across the seat, unable to brace myself with my hands. Beside me, Molly has gone quiet, her face ashen, her body trembling. David stares straight ahead, his hands clenching into fists on his thighs and then unclenching.
My thoughts turn to Gunner, slumped against the doorframe, blood soaking through his shirt. Is there any chance he might still be alive? Will someone find him in time? The image of his surprised expression as the bullets hit him plays on repeat in my mind. I should have warned him somehow. Should have done something, anything to prevent—
“It’s not my fault,” David mutters suddenly, breaking into my thoughts. “It’s not my fault.”
At first, I think he’s talking to me, but his eyes are unfocused, staring at something none of the rest of us can see. He continues, his voice rising and falling in an unsettling rhythm.
“She never appreciated it. All I did for her. Working two jobs, trying to keep up with her spending. And for what? For her to leave me with all the debt?” He laughs, a brittle, sharp sound. “But Naomi sees my value. She knows what I’m worth.”
He’s talking about his ex-wife, I realize.
“Naomi’s going to take care of me,” he continues, nodding to himself. “This money… it’ll change everything. I’ll be debt-free. Finally, live the life I deserve.”
Diesel lets out a snort. “That’s right, kid,” he says, his voice dripping with condescension. “Naomi always takes real good care of her people.”
Something in his tone sends a fresh wave of dread washing over me. Does David not realize he’s expendable? That once Naomi gets what she wants, she’ll dispose of him without a second thought?
The car continues its erratic journey, taking us through streets I don’t recognize, eventually leaving the city behind. With every mile, hope dwindles. No one knows we’re gone. No one is coming for us. By the time someone finds Gunner and realizes Molly and I are missing, it will be too late.
I close my eyes, trying to control my breathing, to push down the rising panic.
The car lurches to a sudden stop, sending me crashing into Molly’s side. My eyes fly open. Through the window, I can see we’ve arrived at what looks like an abandoned warehouse. The building is massive, its concrete walls stained with decades of grime and neglect. A chain-link fence surrounds the property, topped with rusted barbed wire.
“Lets get them inside,” Diesel orders. “Naomi’s waiting.”
The door opens, and then Crusher grabs my upper arm and drags me out of the car, my feet barely touching the ground as he half-carries me toward the warehouse entrance. Behind me,I hear Molly’s shoes scuffing against the gravel as she’s similarly manhandled.
The warehouse door groans as it’s pulled open, revealing a cavernous space inside, dimly lit by industrial fixtures hanging from the high ceiling. The air is heavy with dust.
“Well, well, well,” a familiar voice calls out, echoing in the vast space. “If it isn’t the plant lady.”
Naomi steps out of the shadows, her red curls a violent splash of color against the industrial gray of our surroundings. She’s smiling, her freckled face alight with a cruel sort of delight that makes my blood run cold.
“Special delivery,” Crusher announces, shoving me forward so hard I stumble to my knees. The concrete floor scrapes my skin through my jeans, pain flaring sharp and immediate.
“Very special indeed,” Naomi agrees, walking toward me with slow, deliberate steps. She crouches down, bringing her face level with mine. “Welcome to the party, Kayla. We’ve been expecting you.”
Her eyes flick over my shoulder, and her smile widens. “Look who finally decided to join us!”
I turn my head, following her gaze, and my heart stops.
There at the far end of the warehouse are Roman, Dragon, Gray, Demon, and the other men from the Drago’s Inferno. Roman’s eyes find mine immediately, his widening in horror and disbelief.
“Sunshine,” he whispers, the word carrying clearly across the space between us.
Naomi laughs, the sound wild and manic. “Isn’t that sweet?” She straightens, gesturing grandly. “Now we can finally get this reunion started properly.”
36
Chapter 36
Roman
We approach the old warehouse silently, our boots barely making a sound on the cracked pavement. The setting sun casts long shadows across the ground, turning our silhouettes into stretched, distorted versions of ourselves. We crouch behind a stack of rusted shipping containers. My blood is already humming with adrenaline, my body coiled tight, ready for whatever’s coming.
Dragon holds up his fist, and we all stop, dropping lower. His golden-green eyes scan the compound, three concrete buildings arranged in a rough triangle, with the largest warehouse directly ahead of us. The place is obviously abandoned; shattered windows, graffiti-covered walls, weeds pushing through cracks in the concrete.