“I want the payment first, plus interest,” he corrects, “and then you can go and get them.”
I’ve already decided there is no amount of money that I won’t pay for McKenna’s safety but Ryder asks, “How much does Evan owe?”
“Fifty thousand plus interest.”
I ask my question knowing I won’t like the answer. “And how much interest?”
Draken gestures at Tommy again, and the suit reaches into his pocket and hands me a piece of paper. I read the amount written there on the crumpled note, and my jaw clenches. But I hastily remind myself this isn’t about Evan, or Draken, this about McKenna. Money is money. Her life is worth so much more. And after this night I want Draken to forget McKenna’s name.
Without a single hesitation in my mind, I reach for my phone in my pocket and open the banking app. It’s not unheard of for me to make large transfers, and I’m only too glad for that now. “What’s the account number?” I ask.
Draken rambles it off, and within seconds the money is out of my account and into his, but it’s money I won’t miss. The blood, the cell she’s in…McKenna is all that I’m thinking about now.
I shove my phone into my pocket. “Where is she?”
Draken glances at the suit standing next to him. “Clint, where are Evan and Ms. Archer staying again?”
I snort at the implication that he doesn’t know, crossing my arms, ensuring I don’t drain the life out of him with my bare hands. Even Ryder next to me has a tight jaw and flat mouth.
Clint reaches into his pocket, offering me a key. “There’s an old factory on the corner of Greenwich and Larkin. You’ll find them both there,” he explains. “That key opens the front door.”
I squeeze my hand around the key, my heart beating a mile a minute. I’m so close to her, yet also so far away.
“While I understand that this was a business transaction, because a debt was owed to you,” Ryder begins, staring down Draken. “I’d warn you, Mr. Draken, to ensure our paths never cross again.”
Draken lifts his chin, and maybe there’s a little respect in his eyes too. “I’m aware of who you are, Ryder Blackwood, and I’m also aware of the hacker you have and that she’s trouble I don’t want. If you stay away from me, I will grant you the same courtesy.”
Ryder nods, but there’s a lot said in the silent space between them. It’s an exchange that Draken wouldn’t have with me, because I don’t have the arsenal of power that Ryder has, an arsenal that could take Marcus Draken out. Call it respect or fear, but it’s there between them, and it’s exactly the final thing we need to ensure Marcus won’t come back for more money.
Ryder finally breaks away, gaze on me, and nods.
“You might need this.”
I stare at McKenna’s purse in Draken’s hand and take it, not giving him a second look.
Just as we’re about to turn and leave, I catch Tommy’s grin, the smug smile I’d expect from him. All the fury that’s been building since day one of this hell engulfs me, and for once, I’m only thinking of what I want . . . what I need. “Just one more thing,” I announce.
With swiftness and efficacy, I lunge toward Tommy, jamming the heel of my palm into his nose. There’s an audible crack and then blood pours from his nose and Tommy drops to his knees.
“You fucking prick,” he roars at me, spitting blood, holding on to his clearly broken nose.
“You hurt what’s mine,” I snarl, and then I set my glare onto Draken. “Don’t come near what’s mine again.”
Dark amusement dances in Draken’s eyes as he gives a slow nod, the type of understanding between men. “It’s been a pleasure to do business together, Mr. O’Keefe. Clint will show you out.”
And just like that I seal my first dirty business deal.
McKenna
For as long as I can remember, I’ve always liked exposed brick and timber in any décor, but from this day on, if I never see an old factory again I will die a happy woman. Dust, mold, and whatever else I don’t want to identify hangs in the air that I’m desperately trying not to inhale. For a while, after Tommy none too gently deposited me here, I’d tried yelling and banging on the metal door that was locked from the outside, attempting to get free.
Within twenty minutes, I knew it was pointless. No one even heard me. No one came.
When my flight instinct kicked in, jump-starting my heart, making this room feel like the cell it was intended to be, I forced myself to remember that I’m not in danger. Not truly. Just as Evan won’t be killed by Marcus because he wants to be paid, I won’t be killed either. Too many people know that Marcus has a motive to threaten me. Which can only mean one thing.
Marcus is holding me for ransom, and there is only one person who would pay to keep me safe, and has the money that Marcus demanded. Gabe. I suppose we all should have been expecting Marcus’s callous move. Still, I realized I’d be out of here soon, and that I’d also owe Gabe money.
So here I’ve sat for the last hour—I guess, since I don’t have my phone on me—waiting, knowing that Gabe will eventually come get me. Because that’s Gabe, my savior in this giant disaster.
Right then, as that thought brushes across my mind, there are voices outside the door. Then, “McKenna?”
I rise. “Gabe?”
The door begins shaking with obvious kicks, dust rising in the air. Two bangs later and when the dust clears, I run into the open arms awaiting me. Gabe’s warmth, his woodsy scent, it’s exactly what I need, and the chill in my body slowly vanishes.
“Are you hurt?” he asks, his cheek resting on the top of my head.
“No, but get me out of this fucking creepy place.”
When I look up into Gabe’s eyes, his brows are drawn as he studies my face, and red-hot fury trickles into the air. “You said you weren’t hurt.” He gently brushes his thumbs across my cheeks, and I cringe when he reaches my mouth.
I reach up to my lip, which apparently split when I hit the ground after Tommy tackled me in Draken’s house. I fight the wince and give Gabe a gentle smile. “I mean, I don’t need to go to the hospital or anything. It’s a small cut from falling that’ll be fine with a little ointment.”
Gabe shuts his eyes for a moment, and when he reopens them, there’s obvious relief in his expression. “I never want to go through anything like this again.”
“You and me both, but honestly, I wasn’t worried.”
One brow wings up, voice hardens. “Please explain to me why being forced into this room and locked inside didn’t make you worried?”
I lean into him, gripping the T-shirt at his back. “Because you’re . . . you . . . and I knew you’d come for me.”
His expression softens, hand sprawls across my cheek. “Next time, I don’t need such a great ordeal to show your belief in me. Just tell me, I’ll believe you.”
I chuckle and lean into his touch. “I think I’ve had enough of loan sharks, bad debts, and tabloids to last me a goddamn lifetime.” My smile fades, and I take a step back. “I take it that you paid Evan’s debt.”
Gabe nods. “Draken didn’t leave me much choice.”
“I’ll pay you back,” I tell him.
His eyes slowly begin to narrow. “McKenna—”
“You two will have to figure that out later.” Ryder’s stern voice comes from the hallway. “We need to get Evan to the hospital right away.”
I move around Gabe, and that’s when I see that Evan’s slumped over Ryder’s shoulder. All the warmth that Gabe brought with him is suddenly gone, drained out of my body, leaving my blood chilled. “Evan.” I shoot forward, toward his limp body, and gently reach for his head, feeling the greasiness of his sandy colored hair, the dust also gathered there. “Is he alive?”
“He is,” Ryder says, striding down the hallway. “But he needs care, and needs it sooner than later.”
When we reach the fork in the hallway, I startle, as Alex’s voice fills the air, “Take a right.”
I glance at Ryder’s h
and, see he’s wearing a wristwatch phone. As I follow him down the next hallway, trotting behind him, keeping up, I realize that, apparently, they’d had a plan coming in here, and they’ve got a plan to get us out. But at the speed he’s moving at, dread sinks its cold teeth into me. Evan’s situation is dire, that much is clear.
“Third door on the left,” Alex says.
Ryder opens that door which leads to a large warehouse with old car parts and boxes dirtying up the cement floors.
“Keep going straight ahead,” Alex says. “You’ll see a door there, exit through that.”
I half-walk, half-jog, following behind Ryder, with Gabe at my back, clearly there to protect me, I’m thinking. He could easily keep stride with Ryder. And in between these two men I feel safer than I’ve ever felt before, I realize. My brother sold these men out, and here they are rescuing him. I need to think, figure all this out, but my heart warms around them, changes somehow, opening in ways I’ve never opened up before.
At the door, Ryder pushes it open, and soon, I’m stepping out into a parking lot obviously in the back of the factory, not near San Francisco’s busy streets.
“We’re out,” Ryder says. “Thank you.”
“Later, boss,” is Alex’s reply.
Not a second later, blue and red lights illuminate the sky. I look up and spot an ambulance speeding toward us, with a cop car right behind, telling me that Alex called both, likely on Ryder’s order. When they come to a stop, the paramedics are out a second later and running toward us with gear and a gurney.
The next few minutes become a blur as I watch Ryder lower Evan onto the gurney, his lifeless arm hanging off the side. His eyes are closed, dark circles beneath them. He’s equally dirty and pale, his skin nearly gray now.
“Blackwood, what’s happened here?”
I glance next to me, discover a uniformed police officer striding toward us. Obviously, Ryder wasn’t wrong that the SFPD know who he is, and maybe that lessens a little bit my guilt that we didn’t involve the police from the beginning.
“This is Evan Archer, brother of McKenna Archer.” Ryder gestures to me. “She’s a good friend of mine and reported him missing an hour ago. I tracked his cellphone which led us here. We found him like this.”
The cop wrote on his notepad then without looking up asked, “Any idea what happened to him?”
“Before he blacked out, he told us he got mugged,” Ryder replied, voice steady and confident. “I’m taking a guess that they dragged him back behind here.”
“All right.” The cop finishes writing and then reaches into his pocket and hands me a card. “Call me once your brother is awake and alert, and I’ll come down to the hospital to take his statement.”
“I will, thank you.” I take the card, trying damn hard not to show the tremble of my hand.
The cop looks at Ryder and offers his hand. “Nice work here. Good to see you again.”
“You too, Hennessy.” Ryder returns the handshake.
And just like that he’s leaving, striding back to his car. That’s when I realize that the gray line is even thicker than I knew. But cops have bigger criminals to go after than my gambling-addicted brother, and now I understand Ryder’s earlier amusement when I asked if we should involve the police. To him, and maybe even to Hennessy, Evan is a boy in a game of men.
Ryder steps back, watching the paramedics, and it’s in that second, I have absolutely no idea how I can ever thank Ryder for what he’s done for me and for Evan. “Thank you,” I say softly, reaching for him, holding on to his forearm. Ryder glances at me, and emotion rises in my voice when I add, “I wish I could do something, say something to show you how grateful I am for all you’ve done for me.”
Ryder gives a gentle smile, pats my hand. “You’re with Gabe now, that makes you family.” He glances at Gabe over my shoulder, and they share a long look before Ryder addresses me again. “Keep Gabe happy, McKenna. Do that and consider us even.”
Like he isn’t some hero who helped me when the situation called for him to flip me the bird and let my brother rot in hell, which probably is what he deserves after he sold them out, Ryder turns and walks away. Tears prickle my eyes; I know his request is easier said than done. Gabe and I have a big complication between us now. My brother. I glance at Evan, conflicted. I’m so angry and so happy he’s okay all at once.
Everything should feel good now, we’re back to normal. Evan is safe and out of danger, and yet as I watch while the paramedic straps my tall and lanky brother to the gurney, I know that everything’s changed.
“We’re ready to go,” the paramedic says. “Are either of you coming with him?”
“Yes.” I step forward. “Yes, of course, I’ll go.”
“I’m coming, too.”
I turn around to Gabe and study the intensity in his face, reading the anger in the depths of his eyes. “Go home. I’ll call you when he’s feeling better, then you can talk with him.”
Hurt ripples across Gabe’s features, and I understand the reasons why. But I can’t think about Gabe in all this. Not right now. Because I’ve always been my brother’s keeper, and he’s hurt. He doesn’t need accusations rights now. He needs a doctor and rest.
Obviously taking me seriously, Gabe finally sighs, offering his hand. “Come with me then, and I can drive you.”
I shake my head, feeling torn in a thousand directions. “I’m sorry, I can’t. He needs me.”
A pause. Then, “I need you, too, McKenna.”
I shut my eyes, realizing what going with Evan declares to Gabe, but right now Evan needs to get better, and I need to think, figure all this out. I can’t do that with Gabe there, glaring at my brother until he wakes up. “Please don’t make me choose between you, Gabe.” I open my eyes, and my heart shatters at the coldness washing across his features, as I finish, “Because I won’t choose you.”
“Miss, we need to go,” the paramedic says sharply.
“Sorry.” I pull away from Gabe and jump into the back, taking the seat, staying out of her way. “I’m sorry,” I say to Gabe, tears in my eyes, watching the betrayal etch into his features.
That’s the last thing I see before the paramedic shuts the doors and we’re off, driving toward the hospital with the sirens blaring.
“Kenna.”
I glance down and reach for my brother’s hand. “I’m here, Evan. You’re safe now.”
Chapter 14
Gabe
Three hours later, I’m sitting on a hard plastic chair against the yellow brick wall in the San Francisco General Hospital, staring down at the black screen of my phone. A flurry of people have walked by as I’ve tapped my foot against the shiny blue vinyl flooring and then paced the hallway until my legs tired. For the last half an hour, I’ve sat in this damn chair waiting for a text from Ryder.
Just as I rise for another round of pacing, my phone beeps, and finally the screen lights up, displaying a text from Ryder.
McKenna’s gone. It looks like she’s going into the café. Be quick.
I jump to my feet and make my move, hurrying down the hallway and turning right, approaching Evan’s hospital room. Regardless that McKenna wanted to give Evan time, maybe to help protect him, or maybe to figure out where his head was at, before letting me talk to him, I will talk to Evan on my terms, not hers.
When I enter the room, I find the television set is turned to the sports channel. Evan is lying in his bed, hooked up to a couple bags of IVs, a bandage around his head, his eyes closed. He’s thin, probably more so because Draken likely fed him little during his time in the factory.
If he weren’t injured, I’d be tempted to throttle the living shit out of him. This is the last place I want to be. Going behind McKenna’s back is the last thing I want to do, but I know she won’t let me talk to him, and this whole situation still rests on my shoulders. The recording happened in my pub. I need to make this right for the guys who don’t deserve the shit Evan put them through.
I stop by h
is bedside and clear my throat. As his eyes open, they grow wide, clearly aware of exactly who I am. “You and I have a problem,” I tell him firmly.
He sits up a little straighter, glancing at the door before his one good eye meets mine again. The other eye is swollen shut, his face a black and blue mess of injuries. “I suspected you might show up here,” he comments.
“Did you?” I ask, crossing my arms, glaring down at the guy who nearly ruined my friends’ lives.
Evan nods, visibly swallows.
“In your thoughts,” I say slowly, my eyes narrowing on the little shit. “What did you think I would do when I showed up here?”
“I wasn’t sure.” He glances at the doorway as if somehow that will save him from my wrath.
I pause, considering my next steps. Christ, even I’m not sure what to do. What I want to do is smack this kid around a little bit, teach him a thing or two about messing with me. Instead, doing the smart thing, I say, “You need to make this right, Evan.”
His gaze lifts to mine, voice small. “How do I do that?”
I reach into my pocket, take out a paper that I asked Ross Sterling to draft up for me, then picked up on my way to the hospital, and hand it to Evan. “Signing this would be a good start.”
He takes the paper, his one eye scanning the typed words. “What will this do?”
“That is absolutely none of your business.” I shove my hand back into my pocket and grabbing a pen. “But after all the shit you’ve done, I think signing this affidavit is the least that you can do.”
I offer him the pen, and without a further push, he signs the paper and hands it to me.
“What else?” he asks.
I draw in a deep breath, studying him, and some of my anger diminishes. He wants to fix all this, I can see that, which only tells me he is the addict McKenna claims him to be. His expression is full of regret, sadness, and hopelessness. I begin to see that he’s not the horrible piece of shit I think he is. McKenna’s too good to be close to someone like that, but again, she also loves him. “You need to make things right with McKenna, too.”
Cuffed by His Charm: A Dirty Little Secrets Novel Page 16