Checkmate: Checkmate, #8

by Finn, Emilia

  “I know, Smalls. Hey.” I try to draw her tear-filled eyes. “I’m here, okay? I’m gonna try to make this better.”

  “We’re stuck to the fucking floor. Like, seriously. And our chests are beeping.”

  “I know.” I want to scream at her to shut up with the obvious. I know we’re stuck, and I know there are explosives strapped to our bodies. But she’s a baby, and she’s allowed to panic as blood slides over her temple and touches her lip. “You heard your daddy, yeah? He’s on his way. We need to distract Olly, and then Aiden will come in with bolt cutters. Freedom.”

  “That’s not freedom,” she looks down to her chest and whimpers. “That’s relocation. Because these things come with us.”

  I know. I know. I know!

  Olly stands about forty feet away by the bar and talks to the sour-sisters in quiet whispers. They annoy me as much now as they always did, but while they keep him busy, I inch closer to Evie and press a finger to my lips to keep her quiet as I study the riot-type vest hugging her chest. A reinforced steel frame surrounds her torso, and three padlocks – one at each hip, and one at the front – hold her in and weigh her chest down so she slumps at an uncomfortable angle.

  “Libby?” Her lips quiver as she whispers. “Do you know anything about bombs? Do you know how to turn them off?”

  I meet her eyes and bite my lips closed. When I can’t push a lie past my lips, I shake my head and hate how she drops hers and silently cries.

  “I didn’t get to do big things yet. I was gonna be a champion.”

  “It’s not over until the bell rings, right? Hey.” I reach out with my unbound hand and lift her chin. “Right? You’re a fighter. You live in three-minute increments, and you don’t stop because the other person has got your arm in a lock.”

  She swipes tears from her cheeks and shakes her head. “No. I don’t stop.”

  “What do you do? If there’s twenty seconds left, and they’ve got you in an armlock, what do you do?”

  She looks to Olly. To the sour-sisters. Then back to me. “I break my fucking arm and win the fight with my left hand.”

  I hate that she still makes me smile in this moment. “Okay, well, that’s a little dramatic, but I like your spirit. We’re not breaking your arms, but we’re still gonna win, okay? Tell me something. Tell me anything that you think will help us.”

  “Um…” She looks down at her chest. Then to the stage behind us. “Crawl space. Right behind me. It’ll fit us both, but not with these frames.” She tugs at the steel and grunts. “It’s a tight fit, but the braces will get stuck.”

  “Okay, good. Where does the tunnel come out?”

  “Outside.” She peeks at her vest, and with shaking hands, gently tugs a wrist watch from a pocket. It has wires attached back to the vest, and when she sees them, I know in her heart that she’s tempted to tug the watch free. “It says twelve minutes and fifty-four seconds.”

  I read over her shoulder and feel my heart stutter. “Forty-five, not fifty-four. Don’t tug it, sweetheart. Don’t pull it off.”

  “It’ll stop the timer.”

  I nod. “It sure will, but I don’t think the results will be what we want. Hold it in, okay? Put the watch back in the pocket so you don’t accidentally tug it. It won’t end well.”

  “Okay.” Her hand literally tremors as she works to tuck it away. My vest looks exactly the same as hers, so I don’t bother peeking closer. It’ll work the same, it’ll have the same time, so I save myself the heartbreak and instead study Evie. She’s barefoot and wearing next to nothing, but I don’t have a whole lot on either, and nothing I can offer to keep her warm. “It’s gonna be okay. I promise it will.”

  Just as my words leave my mouth, a loud boom echoes from outside, and then squealing tires make my heart race to impossible speeds. Olly’s head comes up, so he and Evie look like identical meerkats.

  Siblings. They’re siblings, and now that I know, I see the resemblance as clearly as I see the similarities between Kane and Gunner.

  The blonde hair. The blue eyes. They even have the same teeth.

  “We’re coming in,” Kane’s voice booms from the front door. “We’re here, just like you ordered, and we’re coming in the front door.”

  Olly breaks away from the sisters at the bar, sprints around to the back, and picks up a fully automatic Colt commando. “Come in slowly. I want to see three faces only. Three Bishops, and then my collection is complete.” He rests the gun against the bar and points it straight at the door. “Go and sit with the others,” he says to the Hayes women. “Go sit by the stage, but stay out of range. Don’t let them grab you.”

  “By the stage?” Zoey whines. “No, we’re with you.”

  “Fine.” He shakes his head and points behind himself. “Come behind the bar. Stay out of my way.” Four long, tanned legs move fast as they dive over the bar and duck low, like the bitches think Olly will save them. How do they not hear his words? His ‘collection is complete’. He’s captured them just as surely as he’s captured the rest of us.

  They’re just too stupid to see it.

  Gunner steps through the door first and brings my heart up into my throat. He looks taller today, broader, scarier as he shields the brothers that never wanted him and draws Olly’s eyes. “I’m not lying when I say I’m shocked by this shit.” He walks forward with his hands lifted. “I thought we were brothers. I honestly thought we were.”

  “No, Griffin. You have no brothers.” He tilts his head in our direction. “Came looking for your other chess pieces?”

  Finally, Gunner’s eyes break away from the man he considered a friend and lock on to mine. His shutter, sparkle, and deaden as though he needs to stop feeling to be able to cope. He looks like the man I argued with so long ago when he was asking where my loyalties lay.

  He mechanizes himself, and carries the Bishop name well.

  Three Bishop men take slow steps into the room, but there is still thirty feet remaining between them and the bar, and none of them have a weapon in their hands. They’re armed, heavily, but it’s all in holsters, and by the time they get a hand down to them, Olly’s Colt will have taken care of his every wish.

  These three men have identical jaw structures and eyes, if you ignore the color. They have the same builds, same heights, same widths. There are as many similarities between the three of them as there are between Olly and Evie, and it took all these years for us to get them to work together as one.

  Not one of them are a tagalong. None of the three brothers are a weakness. Gunner is the computer brain, in a way, and right now, he’s taking the point of the spear like he thinks he’s also the firewall. Jay is the muscle. And Kane is the father and coordinator. He won’t let either of them hurt, because as the oldest, it’s his job to keep his family safe.

  There is no stealth about their work. Olly knew they were coming, and now they walk through the front door without a care for their safety.

  Gunner’s eyes flicker back to mine every few seconds, but it takes until the third or fourth for me to realize he’s not looking at my eyes at all, but my chest. He’s studying my vest, and his brows wrinkle each time he tries to look at Evie, only to find her slumping over.

  “Evie.” I whisper and run my fingertip over her wrist to gain her attention. “Sit tall. Let him see.”

  Her eyes come up as though out of a daze, but when she processes my words, she sits unnaturally tall and lets him see the entire front of her vest.

  I look back to Gunner for his approval, but when his finger rotates just the tiniest fraction, I look back to Evie. “Turn, baby. He wants to see the back.”

  She looks to me as though to check I’m certain. She’s terrified beyond reasoning. She’s afraid to move, but when I nod, she slowly spins and draws in a startled breath when the door under the stage cracks open.

  “What are you doing over there?” Olly’s voice is like the crack of a whip and makes us jump.

  Evie’s head spins back as fresh tears s
lide over her cheeks, but the stage door remains closed but for a quarter of an inch. The stage is black, and the doors are black, so it’s all camouflaged in itself. Olly doesn’t see the door cracked open. He sees Evie.

  “I told her to turn.” I sit taller. “She’s a baby, and she’s terrified. If she’s going to…” I clear my throat and feel the crack in my heart when Evie’s cry tears from her chest. “She doesn’t have to watch, Olly. Don’t be a monster. Let her go. She’s not actually part of this game. She wasn’t born when we were in that club.”

  “But she’s part of it now, isn’t she? The blood she pumps says so.” Uncaring that Evie would rather not see her death front-on, he turns back to the Bishops, who continued to creep forward in his distraction. “Stop there.” His finger presses against the trigger as though he intends to fire at any moment, but my attention is drawn back to Evie as she moves to sit in front of the door to shield its movement.

  Her back hides the pair of bolt cutters that slide through the gap, but it’s not Aiden’s eyes or hands I see. Not Ben’s, either. A younger set. A smaller boy.

  Mac’s face is ghostly pale, his brow sweating as he works the cutters over the first padlock and pushes with all his strength to snap the metal. He’s barely healthy, his strength is depleted, but he works hard to cut the metal, and jumps when, at the minute mark, the watches beep, like they have every other minute we’ve been wearing them.

  “Keep going.” Evie’s murmur is like a chant. “Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop.”

  “How long?” he asks in a whisper. “How long on the watch?”

  Evie casts a fast glance back to the bar to find Kane and Olly speaking. They discuss fortunes, they discuss hard work and ingenuity, and all the while, Gunner’s eyes remain on us. He sees what we’re doing. He wants to run to us, but the second he breaks formation, Olly’s gun will spill blood.

  Evie pulls the watch from her vest pocket and chokes on a silent cry. “Nine minutes, thirty-three seconds.”

  “Fuck me.” Mac’s gaze snaps to me as she slowly turns to give him the next lock. He knows what I know; there’s not enough time. There’s not even enough time for Evie, unless someone can disarm the vests. “Hurry, Smalls. Turn, but stay calm.”

  “Drop the vest when you get the third undone, then you guys run.” I inch closer to the stage door and pray Olly stays distracted. “Run fast, and run far. The rest of us will follow.”

  Mac nods and bites his tongue until it bleeds as he tries to snap the next lock.

  “Give us the remote to deactivate the vests,” Gunner says. “Those explosives will take out the whole town. There’s no time for you to run. Switch them off, and we can talk.”

  “No, I don’t think I will.” Olly dangles a keyring from the middle finger on his right hand, and with a taunting smile, pockets it and goes back to leaning over the gun like this is a game to him.

  The sour-sisters have remained invisible to the Bishops, but three sets of brows shoot up in surprise as Stella finds her feet and meets their eyes.

  “Hayes.” Gunner’s lip curls back in disgust when Zoey climbs up beside her sister. “You haven’t changed one fucking bit. Still like to suck dick for favors?”

  “You don’t know us!” Zoey’s brows should be creating a wrinkle, but the Botox she injects on the regular makes it impossible. “Filthy little street rat. We thought you died.”

  Gunner takes an arrogant step forward as a distraction as Evie’s next lock snaps open. “Didn’t you hear, Barbie? Bishop boys are like cockroaches. We just don’t die.”

  “Pity,” Olly drawls. “So, here’s how this is going to play out – this club is our metaphorical chessboard, and now I’ve collected all of my pieces.”

  “What’s the girl got to do with this?” Jay asks. He draws the gun toward his chest, but Gunner only repositions himself and takes the point. “Why the girl?”

  “Because the firstborn son of every rich man should be his heir. Frankston made the wrong call the day that club whore died, he was banished and sent to work his own empire.”

  “He was still successful,” Gunner interjects. “He had loads of money.”

  “Yes, I know. He didn’t need Bishop. He did it on his own name, on my grandfather’s name, but it was still unfair. He shouldn’t have had to make his own way, and he shouldn’t have chosen that new bitch over my mother. Out with the old, in with the new. He tossed us out like trash.”

  “He was sent to prison.”

  “A real gangster would have made plans for that eventuality! I was made out to be a fucking foot soldier in my own compound, while her mother,” he points toward us and makes Evie freeze up in fear, “was living it up with her riches and silks. I served her fucking shrimp and salad, and I held the baby more than once, and though the bitch stared right into my eyes, she couldn’t see me.” He slams a fist against his chest and spits, “She didn’t see me! I was supposed to be the prince, but instead, I became the help, and when he was sent away, I was forgotten, and that bastard child was named beneficiary.”

  “So you sought me out?” Gunner’s hands slowly begin to lower. “You played a fifteen-year game, when you could have just told me who you were? We’re all victims of this bullshit empire, Olly. We were all cast aside.”

  “Not them,” he sneers toward the other two brothers. “They weren’t cast aside. They were celebrated. They were honored. You said it yourself, didn’t you, Griffin? You came to town ready to eliminate them because of how they were celebrated.”

  “Yes, I did.” He looks back to Kane. “I did. I came to take them out, because I thought they were like Colum, but–”

  “We didn’t know of your world,” Jay says. “We were celebrated as sons, as agents, but it was all an act. We were Colum’s front, his legitimacy. We were sent through proper schooling and careers, and we didn’t step foot into a club until we were grown adults. We were army brats, but we were shielded from the world you knew, because our ignorance made him invincible. We knew nothing, and therefore, he was nothing but the story we knew. It was bad luck for him that we were assigned to the Infernos case that brought Hayes down. He can’t change our missions, he can’t influence that shit, so once it was assigned, it was too late.”

  “He knew,” Zoey interjects as though proud of her knowledge. “He knew, and Daddy knew.”

  “Dirty coke,” Kane murmurs. He turns to Jay. “That’s why we got the dirty coke. It’s why you were fed batch after batch. It’s why we were separated all the time. It’s why he threw me into the alleyway.”

  “It’s all so poetic, isn’t it?” Olly croons. “We all end up in an alleyway eventually. If you’re part of our world, you end up in the fucking alleyways.”

  “Last one,” Mac whispers. “Evie, give me your hand. I gotta cut the cuff.”

  The rattle of Evie’s cuffs draws Olly’s attention. He turns to us with mild curiosity playing in his eyes, and is caught off guard when he finds the steel frame of her vest open.

  “What—” He swings the gun around with zero remorse, and half a second later, fire explodes around us as bullets race around the room. Shots come from the level above us, drawing my eyes up to see Romeo standing on the balcony with his eye pressed to a shiny new scope. Kane leaps forward when the sour-sisters squeal, and Jay jumps on Olly when Romeo’s shot knocks the heavy gun off the bar and Olly’s hand explodes with blood.

  The sour-sisters scream.

  Olly screams.

  Evie screams.

  Mac shouts at Evie to shut up.

  And our vests give another beep that makes my heart stop.

  “Move.” Gunner skids down beside us and knocks Mac’s bolt cutters out of the way in the same breath that the cuffs come free. He tosses them at me without looking, hitting my thigh hard enough that my eyes cross, but he remains oblivious as he helps Evie out of the vest, and Mac crawls out from his space. “Go.” He lays the vest on the floor with feather light movements, then he grabs Evie’s hips and flings h
er to her feet. “Run straight through the front door. Your dad is waiting right outside.”

  “He didn’t come in?” She’s hysterical, fighting Mac’s hands as he tries to lead her away. “He didn’t come for me?”

  “He couldn’t fit in the crawl space!” Mac grabs her hand with a punishing grip and tugs her away. “They couldn’t fit. Let’s go!”

  “Get her out,” Gunner shouts. “Jay! I need you. Mac, have everyone outside get back. This is gonna blow big in…” He checks the watch and lets out a string of cussing. “Four minutes. Go to Alex and tell him to push everyone back at least six blocks.”

  “Six?” Mac screeches.

  “Six! Push them back. Jay!”

  “I’m here.” Jay skids to the floor and slams his knee against mine as he slides. “What do you need?”

  “Bolt cutters,” Gunner murmurs. He takes a set of tools from his pocket and opens them on the floor beside the vest. “Get her out of that thing, then go. Run.”

  I spin to Jay and lift my arm to give him room to move. The sour-sisters continue to scream, but one cuts off with a squeak at the same time a bullet zings across the room from Spence’s gun on the second level.

  “She was armed and coming for you, Bish.”

  “Thanks.” Kane slams Olly against the bar with shoves much more violent than anything I ever gave to the punk at the gas station. Blood explodes around Olly’s head, but Kane goes hard and slams a second time as he secures cuffs around bloody wrists.

  “Get them out,” Gunner murmurs. He studies the vest and works on the wires, but when no one acknowledges his words, he looks up and around. “Get out! You have three minutes to move six blocks. Go!”

  “One lock,” Jay grunts when he finally gets one loose. “Two more.”

  “Go.” Kane shoves a weeping Olly at Alex when he rushes through the door. “Get everyone back. Griffin says six blocks.”

  “Yeah, Mac just said. Everyone, evacuate now!” He looks to the mezzanine level and waves Romeo and Spence down. “Let’s go. Everyone out. We can’t clear the space until you’re all out.”