Chapter Twenty-Eight
Julius flipped the burgers, the sizzle filling the small kitchen. Skye’s mouth started to water despite the tense situation.
She glanced up at Jake. “He could get things together faster if I help him out.”
Jake chuckled. “Thanks, but I think he’ll manage.” He nodded at the cook. “Smells good. That’s a mark in your favor.”
Skye pulled again on the rope, and it slipped against her skin. Beside her, Robby slept fitfully, his head in her lap. He’d woken up and moved closer, his arms around her for comfort. Smith hadn’t left orders for his hands to be tied, not seeing him as a threat.
“You guys use knife and fork for your burgers?” Julius snatched three of cutlery bundles out of the basket, the napkin folded around a knife and fork.
“What? No.” Jake scoffed. “Who the hell does that?”
“Okay. Just checking. You never know, people get all fancy at times.” Julius spun around and dropped the white bundles back into the basket.
But not all of them.
Something fell into her lap, hitting the side of Robby’s head before sliding down to rest on her leg.
One of the silverware sets.
Including a steak knife.
She shifted her hips, and it slipped almost out of sight, Robby’s shoulder-length hair helping cover it up.
A weapon.
Julius turned back to the plates, finishing up the buns. “You wait until you taste this. Going to be the best thing you ever had in your life.”
Jake leaned against the wall, arms crossed in front of him as he watched the cook finish off the hamburgers.
A buzzer went off, signaling the fries were ready.
Jake smiled as Julius went to the other side of the kitchen and shook out the wire basket onto a rack, letting the fries finish draining away the last of the hot oil. “This was a good idea.”
“I thought you were Finn’s friend,” Skye said.
Jake glanced at her for a second before turning his attention back to Julius. He wasn’t going to lose sight of the man using the hot grill in a kitchen full of things like cleavers and big knives.
Robby turned his head and smiled at her as his hand curled around the silverware. He pulled the paper tab apart with a flick of his finger and slipped the knife free before hiding it under his sweatshirt.
With a shock, she realized he wasn’t as weak and incapacitated as she thought. As they’d all thought.
Add in Julius’s defection, and the odds were almost in their favor.
Almost.
…
Finn stared at Smith. “You going to do something or just play with your stick?”
The gang leader’s lips turned up in a snarl as he pulled the pistol from his waistband. He put his hand down by his side, index finger caressing the trigger. “Might want to save your breath. I could shoot you right here, right now.”
“You could,” Finn agreed. “But it’ll make you look weak to your crew.” His attention went past Smith to the assembled bikers. “Man like this, he needs to keep proving himself. Anyone can pull a trigger. Takes a man to do it up close and personal.”
Smith shook his head. “I only fight those I figure are worth my time. You are not.”
Finn rolled his shoulders. “Too bad. I was hoping to give you some payback for the beating you laid on Robby.”
Smith smiled and turned his head to address his men. “He wants to play fair.”
A wave of laughter swept the gang members.
“No.” Finn’s response brought Smith back around to face him. “I just needed a few minutes more for them to get into position.”
A flash of movement at the corner of his eye signaled the fight was officially on.
A drone dropped out of the sky and landed on the ground between Smith and his bikers. The flashbang grenade riding on the top of it exploded a moment later, deafening in the rising dawn.
Finn moved before the drone hit, ducking to the right and twisting around toward Smith.
Smith swung his pistol, searching for a target as he tried to recover from the surprise attack. Finn grabbed the man’s right arm, yanking him forward. Smith roared, his free hand flailing as he tried to swing around to punch, his pistol useless.
The gun jerked, sending a bullet into the smoke.
Finn prayed it didn’t hit anyone.
He tucked the arm under his own before snapping his right elbow upward into Smith’s face, enjoying the thick crack of a broken nose.
A satisfying gurgle reached his ears, confirming the strike.
Smith spat out blood, still struggling in Finn’s grip.
The biker’s arm shook and his hand opened, releasing the pistol. It fell into the dirt at their feet.
Smith roared and brought his left hand around to punch Finn in the side of the head.
Finn leaned back and hyperextended Smith’s arm, bringing the man up on his toes. Smith hammered again and again at Finn’s right side, laying down punches that grew weaker and weaker while Finn jabbed three times in quick succession at the leader’s face, now bloody and distorted.
“You think you’ve beaten me? I’ll be out in six months, and I’ll come after you and your friends. And this time, no one’s walking away,” Smith snapped.
“Yeah, I don’t think so.” Finn snatched up the pistol and pointed it at Smith’s forehead.
The Wolf’s expression changed. His eyes went wide, his mouth falling open as blood trickled out.
“We’re going to make sure you go to jail for a good, long time. And if you ever get out, you’ll find me at the door, waiting for a reason to put you back in again. Remember that.” Finn spun the pistol in his hand and slammed the butt grip into Smith’s head.
Smith sagged to his knees, blood gushing from his nose and down over his goatee.
Finn pulled the riding crop free from the Wolf’s belt. He raised it, prepared to strike.
Smith moaned as he looked up at the switch, eyes bleary and wide. He lifted his hands slowly, painfully to fend off Finn’s blows.
“I should beat you like you beat Robby,” Finn said. “But you’re not worth my time or effort.”
“Finn.” Trey appeared at his side out of the dissipating smoke. He wore a black T-shirt and black pants, the Brotherhood’s working uniform. He glanced at Smith before turning back to Finn. “You good?”
Finn drew in a deep breath.
“I’m good.” He glared at the gang leader, beaten and broken.
The rest of the bikers sprawled on the ground, most of them unconscious. Dylan and Ace were occupied with putting zip ties on the last two, immobilizing them.
Finn snapped the riding crop in half over his knee and tossed the remnants at Smith. “Who was working the drone?” he asked Trey.
“Jessie.” Trey smiled. “Over in the van.” He nudged a thumb at Dylan. “It was as much of a compromise as he could take. Woman was chomping at the bit to help.”
“Skye.” Finn leaned over and grabbed the front of Smith’s shirt. He dragged the man onto his knees. “Where is she?”
Smith looked at him, bleary-eyed and woozy.
“Where. Is. She.” Finn enhanced every word with a rough shake, Smith’s head bobbing back and forth.
“Why should I tell you?” Smith muttered.
“Because I’m going to beat on you like a piñata until you do, and no one’s going to stop me. Want to prove me wrong?”
Smith shook his head, his eyes already swelling shut from the beating. He spat out a gob of blood. “At the diner, Julius’s place. If my boys don’t hear from me soon, they’re going to shoot them. I’m not making that call, and you can’t get there in time. Tick, tick.” He smiled, showing reddened teeth. “You win some, you lose some.”
Finn pushed the criminal into the dirt.
Trey yanked out his cell phone and stared at it. “Verified. The first tracker you put down is at the cafe.”
Jake.
Finn closed his eyes for a second, summoning up the last of his reserve energy.
“Finn.”
His attention went to Dylan, who was now standing, wiping his hands on his pants. He pointed at the line of motorcycles. “We’ll let Mac know. Go.”
Finn didn’t need any other encouragement.
He jumped on the nearest bike and twisted the key in the ignition. Rubber screamed as he let the throttle out and spun out of the parking lot.
…
Robby pulled the knife out from under his sweatshirt and slid his hand behind her back, using the blade to hack at the nylon rope. She gave a hard yank and one of the ropes broke. In a few minutes, Skye pulled her hands free, untangling her fingers and keeping them behind her back, out of sight.
Robby sighed and hugged her, keeping the knife hidden. If Jake or any of the other bikers glanced over, they’d just see a heartfelt embrace, their captives spending a few more minutes together before the inevitable happened.
“Love ya, sis.” The whisper almost had her in tears, but there wasn’t time to get all emotional.
He was still sweaty and feverish; whatever he could do would be limited. But he wasn’t ready to go down without a fight and that made two of them—three with Julius switching sides.
All she could think about was Finn. He should have arrived at the truck stop with the drug-stacked car, and after that…
She had to do something.
Now or never.
Skye looked at Julius and gave a careful bob of her chin.
Julius snatched up a cast-iron frying pan and waved it at Jake. “I’m not going to let you kill them.” His voice was forceful. “I’ve let you bastards get away with enough. It stops here.”
“What the…” Jake threw down the burger and stepped past Skye and Robby, his hand dropping to the pistol in his waistband. “You stupid idiot. I’m going to—”
Robby threw himself at the biker, tangling himself up in Jake’s feet. The man went down in a mess of arms and legs, his hands clutching at the counter to try and regain his balance. Robby twisted, pulling Jake all the way down to the tiled floor.
They had to be fast before the biker yelled for help or reached his pistol. Either would kill their little rebellion before it got a chance to start.
Skye yanked her hands free and snatched up the knife as Jake twisted upright, grabbing at his pistol. She slammed it into his thigh, right to the hilt.
Jake screamed and clawed at his leg, all thoughts of getting to the weapon gone.
One down, two to go.
Julius scrambled over the writhing man to stand beside the doorway.
Sure enough, the first man charged through a few seconds later—only to be clocked by the heavy metal pan. He flew backward, the force knocking him off his feet.
Skye wrestled Jake’s pistol free and tossed it to Robby. She went over to the second biker and took possession of his weapon while the man lay unconscious.
Their third assailant ran right into the line of fire, both Robby and Skye pointing their weapons at him. Julius brandished the skillet again, holding it high.
He froze before slowly raising his hands.
Robby let out a weary laugh. “That went better than I thought.”
Skye smiled but didn’t join him. Her thoughts flew to Finn.
She grabbed up a handful of dishtowels and tossed them at Jake.
“Don’t pull it out,” she warned. “Wrap those towels around the knife. They’ll remove it at the hospital.”
She should have been frightened, terrified at what she’d done. Except she wasn’t. All she could think about was Finn.
“Julius, tie those two up.” Skye looked at Robby. “How are you feeling?”
He smiled. “Like crap. But I’ll live.”