I clutched Gage’s phone in my hands, wishing it would buzz. I’d texted Alder as Gage had told me to but hadn’t gotten a response. Alder would respond…wouldn’t he? At least to let us know he was on his way or that he’d gotten the message? I hadn’t sent him my name—just a note that men were in the restaurant and Gage needed backup. Exactly what Gage had told me. Why wasn’t Alder texting back?
But all thoughts of the phone and Alder disappeared when the door suddenly opened and a big, warm body pressed against mine before the darkness blanketed me again. A hand slipped over my mouth before I could scream, another around my waist as the person pulled me closer. Close enough to get a good, long feel of him.
Gage.
My panic melted away, leaving me buzzing and on edge. Gage was back. With me in the dark. That had to be a good thing, right?
Gage curled his body over mine, bringing his face closer as the palm over my mouth moved to the back of my neck. As he held me against him with rough hands and stiff muscles. Tense. The man was so damn tense.
Maybe not a good thing after all.
“Three men at least,” he whispered, his breath warm on my ear. His beard brushing against my skin in an almost tickling sort of way. “They’re looking for you, so we have to go right now. Did you text Alder?”
I nodded, shaking as I clung to his bicep with one hand, his phone still in my other. His presence, his closeness, almost calmed me. Not quite, though, because I still trembled, unable not to. Unable to push down the fear digging holes through my soul. They’re looking for you. But…why? That didn’t make sense.
Gage kissed my cheek—so soft and simple—before cupping my face in his big hands. “I’ll get you out, okay, princess? I promise. Just do whatever I say.”
I nodded, taking a deep breath when he let me go so he could grab my hand. The startled jerk he gave at finding his phone in the way pulled me up short. Him, too, though he didn’t take it from me.
“Hang on to that,” he said, his voice still so very quiet.
I tried to match that whispered tone. “I don’t have pockets.”
He took the device from my hand, his skin rough but his touch gentle. I still couldn’t see, but I could feel as he raised his arms up. Not high—chest height. My chest height.
I nearly whimpered when he grabbed the neckline of my shirt and tugged… To tuck the phone inside my bra.
“What’s the code?” he asked, his voice deep, his hand still resting against my breast. His body rigid against mine.
But I remembered. “5284.”
“Good job, princess. If we get separated, if anything happens to me, you call for help. Alder, Deacon, Finn, Bishop—doesn’t matter. I go down, you call everyone in my contacts until someone answers, okay?”
“Gage—”
“Promise me.”
I nodded, tears welling fast and hot as the reality that we were really about to risk our lives to run washed over me. I didn’t want anything to happen to him. I didn’t want anything to happen to either of us, but I also had no control over what was going on. All I could do was follow his directions and hope he could get us out of danger. He had to be able to—he’d been a Navy SEAL, one of the most dangerous types of military professionals on the planet. He knew what he was doing. The likelihood of screwing up our escape and getting us killed fell on me.
“There’s a ladder for roof access at the far end of the back hallway. It’s the safest bet for now. Let’s go.” Gage pulled me behind him, both of us creeping out of the closet and toward the back hallway. The one that connected this space to my restaurant. Where the bad guys were. If this had been a cartoon, I would have gulped. Instead, I gripped Gage’s hand tighter and made sure Rex kept up with us. If the man was going to risk his life to watch over me, the least I could do in return was to watch over his dog.
I didn’t get the chance to watch for long.
Before we could make it through the dimly lit hallway to the ladder that led to the roof, a huge boom sounded, and the doors to the restaurant kitchen exploded. I screamed and ducked, falling sideways as Gage shoved me into a wall and covered me with his body. Rex was barking at something ahead of us, the sound sharp and mean. Distracting. At least, until Gage grabbed my face.
“Up,” he said, his eyes darker than I’d ever seen them. “Get up on the roof. Now.”
He pulled me off the floor by my arm and shoved me toward the ladder as three men burst through my destroyed kitchen doors. Gage moved fast, faster than I thought possible, raising his arms straight out and holding…
Oh my god, a gun.
I hadn’t noticed it, hadn’t seen or felt it, but there it was. Gripped tight in his hands—one clutching the grip, the other underneath—the metal so dark, it practically absorbed the light, so deadly it stole my breath. For about a half of a second, which was exactly how long it took for Gage to pull the trigger.
One shot. That was all it took for the first man to drop. The one with the shotgun, which must have been the boom that splintered the kitchen doors. Not a bomb—a gun. Just as deadly in my mind. Just as scary. Scary enough to make me pause, make me look over the men running straight at Gage. Make me not take those first few steps up the ladder.
Such a mistake.
As one man slammed into Gage, charging the bigger man like a bull and making him drop his gun, the other grabbed me around the waist and pulled me off my feet. Seconds. I’d lasted seconds before I’d screwed things up.
“Been looking for you, chef.”
The man’s breath reeked of alcohol and onions, and his arms felt like steel bands wrapped around me. I couldn’t fight. Couldn’t escape. Gage and Rex were both battling their own assailant, one’s fists flying and the other’s teeth bared. I couldn’t even scream for them before the guy who held me bent down to grab Gage’s gun from the floor then raced into the kitchen. Still carrying me, carting me off as if I weighed absolutely nothing. And maybe to him, I didn’t. Like Gage, he towered over me by at least a foot, and his arms bulged with muscles. Strong. Stronger than Gage, I doubted, but enough to take care of me without breaking a sweat. I was so screwed.
The man finally set me down and shoved me into my cooking area, a galley-like space with a prep counter on one side, the pass-through for order pickup on the other, and the stove, flat top, and fryer between the two. I lived in that space, owned it, knew every inch of it. He’d just dropped me into my domain, but I had to figure out how to get out of it alive.
As the sounds of the battle in the back hallway continued, the guy pulled a phone from his pocket and made a call. The man wore a black leather vest with the Soul Suckers colors on the back and a patch on the front that read Rock. His dark hair hung long and greasy, a scar on his chin the only part of him not pale. I absorbed every detail I could just in case I needed to tell someone—Gage, Alder, the police. That was something I could control, something I could do to help. Pay attention to the details.
At least until a voice came over the phone. “Status?”
Rock glanced my way as he paced, his light blue eyes hard and unreadable. “Got her, but the bearded guy took out Edge.”
“You eliminate the target?”
“Judas is working on it now. Not sure he’s going to win this one.”
“Pistol just wants the girl, so get her out.”
Rock stopped, his shoulders stiff and his back straight. “Leave Judas?”
“If he can’t take down one scraggly mountain man, that’s on him. Get the girl back here.”
“I’m on it.” Rock disconnected the call, looking me up and down before raising his arm. Pointing Gage’s gun in my face with a sadistic sort of grin. “Looks like you’re with me, chef.”
The hell I was. I stepped away, backing into the stove. The very hot stove where the gumbo still simmered and the cast iron pan gave off enough heat to make me flinch. Every self-defense class I’d ever taken had instilled the same basic lesson—never let an attacker take you anywhere. Things would only ge
t worse if they did, so you had to stand your ground where the attacker first came for you. I was in my kitchen, in my space, knowing every niche and crevice and tool within reach. If he walked me out of this building, I wouldn’t know anything, wouldn’t have the same advantages as I did right then.
This would be the place I’d make my stand. It might also end up being the place I died, but at least I’d go down on my terms.
Before I could even begin to think of a plan of attack, the broken doors slammed open, Gage and the other guy, Judas, crashing through them as they continued to fight. Blood flew and dripped, but I couldn’t tell whose. I didn’t have time to because Rock spun to watch, taking his attention off of me. How could he not? Two men throwing punches and grunting as they slammed each other into walls and tables plus Rex barking and growling like a beast set loose, biting Judas wherever he could reach and doing his best to protect his owner. How could anyone tear their eyes away from such a show? At least, that was what I hoped—that Rock would keep watching them, giving me a chance to do something to help Gage.
The idea formed quickly, thoughts flying through my head as Rock tore his eyes away from the battle and returned his attention to me. As he glowered my way and took a step closer. As he dropped his arm, the gun still in his hand, and reached as if to grab me again.
A move he’d soon regret.
In the world of cooking—whether home cooks or professional ones—burns were common. Normal enough that chefs tended to grow almost resistant to heat. Almost. Because even with the towel that I quickly snagged off the prep counter hook, I knew this was going to hurt. I could only hope I had the strength to ignore the instincts that would tell me not to do what I needed to. That I could force my body to accept the pain I was about to put it through.
Temporary. It’s all temporary.
I caught Gage’s eyes just before I moved, looked right into those inky depths as he wrapped an arm around the neck of Judas and pulled the man against him. I knew what was coming, but it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. Rock had Gage’s gun, and even if Gage took Judas down, Rock would shoot him. And Rex. And then he’d drag me out of the restaurant, and god only knew what would happen to me.
Actually, I knew what would happen. At least, part of it. I’d fought my way out of a shitty situation once before. I could do it again. The stakes were just a little higher, and this was going to be a little more painful. But burns healed. Bones healed. A gunshot wound to the head didn’t.
I could do this. I had to.
The world slowed, giving me time to see everything play out. To notice how Gage grimaced and pulled against Judas, how the man’s head jerked to the side in the most unnatural of ways. How Rock raised the gun again, pointing it at Gage’s face. Aiming. No way could Gage cross the kitchen before Rock shot, no way could he get himself out of the line of fire. I knew that with a certainty I couldn’t have explained, so I did the only thing I could think of. What I needed to. I wrapped the towel around my hand. And I chanted in my head as I reached behind me.
Don’t let go. Don’t let go. Don’t let go. I grabbed the handle of the cast iron skillet, chanting louder than the instincts telling me to let go of the thing hurting me. Adding my other hand for leverage and strength. And I swung as if my life depended on it. Because it did. So did Gage’s.
The towel slipped, my palm hitting metal as the heavy pan struck Rock in the face. And in that moment, as fire practically dripped down my hand and burned its way up my arm, I had no idea whose screams were louder—Rock’s or mine.
“Katie.” Gage pushed me back, knocking the pan from my hands and grabbing me by the shoulders. I couldn’t see past my tears, couldn’t hear anything but the rush of blood through my head as the pain dug its claws into my palm and tore out every nerve and muscle. But then Gage cupped my face again, his hands rough on my skin but his gaze boring into mine. His black eyes right in front of me.
“What did you do?” he asked, looking so worried. So scared. He’d shot a man in front of me, had likely just killed a second by breaking his neck. He’d done both without an ounce of apprehension. But this? His face as he held me while I cried and shook and cradled my injured hand? I’d never seen him so upset.
“He was going to shoot you.”
The doors to the dining room whooshed open, closing almost immediately with a softer sort of sound I knew well. Someone had just left the kitchen. Rock was gone.
And he likely still had Gage’s weapon. “You have to go after him.”
The clench of his jaw gave away Gage’s turmoil. “No. I have to get you out of here.”
“Gage, he knows you killed those other men. He has your gun. That has to be some sort of nasty leverage to a group like the Soul Suckers.”
“I’ll deal with it. Let’s go.”
“Gage—”
He tugged me closer, eyes locked on mine. Intense and almost brutal as he said, “You are more important than the blowback coming my way. I need you safe before I deal with this, and you’re not safe here.”
I nodded, unable to speak again. Not that I needed to. He was in charge, and I was in pain. I could give up control to him, could trust him to do what was right while I dealt with the shock of my injury. Everything hurt. Everything burned. And with the way my palm looked—red skin, flesh torn away, blisters already forming—I knew the pain would only get worse.
Gage ushered me out of the kitchen, keeping himself between me and the dead guy on the floor as he directed me through the back hallway. A pool of blood had spread from the wounds on the first man down—the one who’d been aiming a shotgun at us before Gage shot him. The man Rock had called Edge.
The first person I’d ever seen die, and yet not the last.
Those men had come for me—had been sent to Justice to kidnap me. I had no idea why. I was nobody—a nothing chef in an even more nothing town. How could I possibly be worth so much death? It didn’t make sense. Gage didn’t seem interested in trying to figure out the why of the situation, though. Not right then at least. He kept us moving, pausing only long enough to peek into the alley before throwing the door open and rushing outside.
Right into the path of another man with a gun.
“Jesus, son.” Alder Kennard slowly dropped his weapon. “Can’t say I expected you to come bursting out the back door like that. If the Soul Suckers had staked out—”
“Katie’s hurt,” Gage interrupted, pushing me toward the truck parked at the far end of the alley. “She needs a doctor.”
Deacon Manns, owner of the only bar in the area and best friend to Alder, came running from the other end, a large, scary-looking rifle sort of gun in his hands. “What’s the situation?”
Gage never stopped moving. “Three men came for Katie. Two dead inside, one with a gunshot wound to the head, the other with a snapped neck. Third guy took off before I could take him down.”
“Fuck,” Alder spat, the word practically hissing through his lips. “And Katie?”
“Burned the hell out of her hand and the third guy’s face. You’ll know him coming for sure.”
“Potential blowback?”
Gage paused, leaving a small moment of silence. A tiny delay I doubted Alder recognized, but one I caught. “Third guy—”
“Rock,” I said, swallowing hard as the pain I fought made my voice tight and small. “The patch on his vest said Rock. Gunshot wound is Edge and broken neck is Judas.”
Gage stared down at me, one side of his lips curling up a fraction. “Rock saw me take down the other two, and he has my gun.”
“Motherfucker,” Deacon said. “What now?”
“We get Katie medical care,” Alder said, following us all the way to the truck and opening the passenger door so Gage could help me inside. “You think they’ll come back for her?”
Gage’s answer came hard and fast, his voice dangerous enough to send ice shooting up my spine. “Absolutely.”
“Then we get her out of town. Tonight.”
Gage spu
n on Alder, keeping one hand on my thigh as if needing to feel me. To know I was right there with him. A touch I was thankful for.
“Not without me.”
“You disappearing will bring more heat from the sheriff,” Alder said, an inscrutable expression on his face. “We need to handle the witness and the stolen gun, but until then, you need to keep up the appearance that nothing is wrong. If you go running, you look guilty.”
But Gage wasn’t having that. “Katie can’t stay in town.”
“She can still go—I’ll send Deacon with her. But you have to stay.”
Just the thought, the idea of being separated from Gage, had my heart jumping in my chest. Thankfully, Gage seemed to understand that. He gripped my thigh tighter, shaking his head as he growled out a, “Not good enough.”
“You willing to risk it? Because you already said they’d come for her.” Alder glanced at me before cocking his head. “She has to be protected.”
“I’ll handle it.”
And he would. I knew it. Trusted it.
Alder didn’t seem convinced. “She’ll need twenty-four-hour guards.”
Strong and determined, Gage didn’t even hesitate. “I’ll handle that too.”
Alder stood waiting, his face drawn as he appeared to think over Gage’s arguments. “Katie?”
I met his blue eyes straight on. “Yeah?”
“You have an opinion on this?”
I set the back of my aching hand on Gage’s where it still gripped my thigh. Perhaps needing to feel him as much as he needed to feel me. “I’m staying with Gage.”
If my answer surprised the eldest Kennard, he didn’t show it. “Okay then.” Alder’s light eyes moved to Gage, a fury blazing there that I’d never seen. “But this is on you. Make sure you’ve got yourself set up, and have a plan ready in case the heat gets to be too much.”
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