His gaze roamed over the building, stopping dead when a light flickered on in one of the upstairs rooms. Dull, it couldn’t have been bigger than a small lamp, but it was enough. Doc nudged Vlad with his shoulder, who nodded then pulled his gun out of the back of his jeans, racking the slide. He jerked his head, moving into position. But there was one thing Doc had to do first.
Ava. Still nestled in his arms, it was time for them to finally separate. He’d had physical contact with Ava since they’d left her house. Wrapped around him on the back of his bike and then held in the safety of his arms at both the rendezvous position and now. But this was where they would be parting. There was no way he could do what was needed of him in that building if he had to worry about keeping Ava safe, too. Doc looked down the alley. Like everywhere else around there, it was littered with junk. Broken down pallets dressed with cardboard boxes, fortunately empty tonight of the homeless drifters that likely sheltered there. They didn’t need any witnesses to what was about to go down. Looking around the alley again, this time for his new purpose, it took only a few seconds to spot it. A Dumpster, sitting behind a stack of broken furniture. Maybe even rejects from the building they were about to storm. Ripped armchairs were stacked high with side tables, larger pieces stacked several levels deep and topped with the odd unidentifiable piece of timber. So high, in fact, he’d nearly missed the Dumpster entirely. No one hiding behind there would be visible unless someone deliberately dug through the layers of discarded furniture and the metal of the Dumpster would give further protection from stray bullets, God forbid it be needed. Tugging at Ava’s hand, he slid her behind the pile and leaned her back against the dusty wall. “Stay here,” he rasped. “No matter what you hear, what you see. Someone will come get you when it’s all over.”
Ava’s eyes blazed. “Someone? Connor, I can’t . . .”
“Yes, you can. You have to.” His shoulders slumped. “Ava, you’re a wonderful mom. I could tell that in five seconds of seeing you with Emily, but you wouldn’t last a second in there, and I can’t bring her home safe if my focus is split on keeping you alive.”
Her gaze dropped, what was left of Doc’s heart shattering further at the sheen of tears across her eyes. “So you think there’s still a chance she’s alive?”
Doc grabbed at her shoulders, shaking lightly so her gaze rose back to meet his. “Absolutely. We’re going in and fetching Emily and bringing her back out. That’s the only way I’ll allow this to go.”
“And you? You’re coming back to me also. Promise me.”
That time, it was his gaze that dropped. He couldn’t help it, couldn’t bear to see the emotion in her eyes. Would it be anger, disappointment, perhaps even resignation? She would miss him, at least, that much he was sure of. He no longer believed that whatever was happening between them was just a fling, or a vague attempt to recapture old times. No, this was entirely different, an intense, heated thing. It burned hotter between them than anything ever had before, but at the same time it wasn’t temporary, wouldn’t burn out. If things had been different . . . there was no point dwelling on what could have been. He’d chosen his path, and now it had come to this. The chance to lay down his life for his child. If that was how it went, then he’d lived and loved well, and had the chance to know the greatest love he could—of family. Both from the Steel Kings and now his own little offshoot—a wife and child. Maybe, if he played his hand right in the next few minutes and fate had finished fucking with him, maybe that would be possible one day. Only time would tell. But for now, he’d tell Ava what she needed to hear. He wouldn’t ask her to choose between a lover and her child. He’d lose every time, as it should be, but he wouldn’t crush her hope, either. She needed as much of it as she could until this whole ordeal was over. Then she could begin to heal from whatever wounds it left. “I’ll bring her back to you. I promise.” Doc could only hope that he could keep his word. Dropping to one knee, he reached into the holster strapped to his ankle, grabbed his backup piece, and handed it to Ava. “Point and shoot, that’s all you need to do.”
He couldn’t bear to tell her goodbye. If this was the last time he saw her, then so be it. Instead he leaned down, taking her mouth hard, thrusting his tongue deep into her mouth, tasting her essence. Damn, the only thing that tasted better was her pussy, but for now this would have to do. If everything went right, then he’d be granted the honor of tasting every inch of her over and over again, but if not, then this was a damn good final memory.
Scuffling from behind him finally made him break contact with Ava’s luscious mouth. He stared at her for one long second, committing her entire form, every curve, every perfect inch to memory, and then he turned and walked into hell.
24
Ava
Don’t let them die. Don’t let them die. Please God, don’t let them die. The thought ran through her mind, over and over again, until her lips started moving with the words. Her head jerked upward at the sound. She had to stay quiet! Her fingers curled with the effort to stay still, and she jerked at the feel of hard steel in her right hand. God, how was she supposed to use it to defend herself when every instinct was telling her to throw it away? Throw it down on the ground and never look at it again. She’d seen the damage that gunshot wounds did to victims; gaping holes in chests and entire backs of heads missing. Could she do it? Could she hold one in her hand, much less point it at someone and pull the trigger? An image of Emily swam into her mind and her knees wobbled, almost forcing her from squatting behind the Dumpster to the ground. Yes. If it meant the life of her child, she could do anything.
But right now, the life of her child was in someone else’s hands—the hands of the man she loved. Ava managed to get her wobbly legs beneath her and peered around the corner of the Dumpster. A man in a leather cut stood at the end of the alley, brandishing a gun much larger than hers, but otherwise she was alone. Good. That meant two things: that there was no one witnessing her little breakdown, and that the manpower was right where it should be. Since Connor and the others had left, the air had been deadly quiet. She wasn’t sure what she’d been expecting. Crashes? Gunshots? Instead all she could hear was the low background hum of the city. Likely less than a block away, it all seemed to fade into the background. Right now, this dark alley was her entire world.
Resting one hand against the Dumpster, she took in a deep breath and then stepped out far enough so that she could see the building Connor had charged into. Doc. She needed to start using that name. It sounded right, and was what everyone here would know him as, too. The kiss he’d given her before leaving had been life-affirming, full of every promise and hope he’d ever made. The memory made her knees week all over again. God, how long was she going to have to stand here, deafened by the silence?
She was amazed that tattoo of her heart wasn’t loud enough for men to swarm the alley. It thundered through her, picking up speed with even the slightest thought, the slightest movement. Her breath came in quick little pants and her muscles felt weak. Sweat ran down her skin, making the damn gun slip in her fingers, and her stomach roiled. The small logical part of her brain that was still online knew exactly what was going on. Shock. Stress. She should be lying down, even warming herself up if she could. But she couldn’t move. Torn between rushing toward the still-dark building or staying where she promised, Ava was stopped dead still with indecision. Every muscle in her body warred with her to move, to make her way swiftly into the building, locate Emily, and then get the hell out of there.
But it wouldn’t be that simple. When she got past her lizard brain and to the more rational part, she knew staying hidden was her best bet. The hand holding the gun was still shaking slightly. How could she even entertain charging in? She wasn’t bulletproof.
Ava swallowed the sudden lump in her throat. Neither was Doc. But one look at how he’d moved as he’d headed away from her had opened her eyes to a whole new side of him. Holding his weapon firm, his arms tucked in, he moved like a jungle cat; efficient an
d smooth as hell.
All of them had looked like the special ops guys she’d seen in movies. Some of the members of his club had military experience. She’d picked that much up quickly with the terms being thrown around in her living room. It had been obvious with one man in particular, so much so it had broken through her grief. He’d stood silent, but she’d felt his presence as if he’d walked up and grabbed her. His dark eyes had been scanning the room. It seemed like a stupid thought, but it was as if the entire universe had been inside them, scenarios and plans whirling in his gaze. He’d caught her staring and inclined his head slightly at her before standing stock still again, his arms crossed over his chest.
Then again, at the meeting spot, the club president, who had been talking with another man over a large spread-out map, would turn every now and then and look at this other man, it seemed almost waiting for his approval. Somehow it came, even though the man barely spoke a word. He’d creeped Ava out and given her strength all at once. She was damned glad he was on their side.
A light flickered on in the building and then off again. Ava took another step forward. Muffled thuds reached her ears, followed by silence again. She’d been waiting, tensed, for gunshots, but she had yet to hear a single one. Was it even possible that Doc and the rest of the Steel Kings had managed to work their way through the building for over ten minutes without being detected? The way their president had explained it, she’d expected the entire area to be swarming with the rival club, but she’d yet to see another living soul from her position in the alley, let alone an enemy. The word sent shivers through her brain. How quickly things had changed. She’d been vicious to Doc the first time she’d laid eyes on him after all those years. She’d allowed prior experiences to get in the way of an unbiased decision, something that went against all her training. But somehow, when her heart was involved, that had all gone to shit. She’d never stopped loving the man, that much had been obvious the moment she’d clamped eyes on him again. But that hadn’t stopped the surge of hurt, anger, and yes, grief, that had come with it.
Something skittered over the Dumpster, and Ava jumped, letting out a small shriek. Time to stop wishing the past could be different and focus on right the hell now. Doc had been nothing but honorable, saving her first and now walking into enemy territory to save their child. She could be bitter and blame him for that too, but there was no point. They’d both done things they shouldn’t have done in the past, and she hadn’t taken much convincing to fall into his bed again. No, the blame for Emily’s kidnapping fell squarely with the assholes that had attacked her in the ER—the Jokers. And they were going to pay. From the look on the Kings’ faces as they left, Ava was sure of that.
But it was still so god damned quiet! She looked back up at the building. A hallway light flickered on, only to disappear again seconds later. Still, it was quiet. What the hell was happening?! The light flickered again, and this time she heard something. A gun, something else? She couldn’t tell. The guy who was waiting at mouth of the alley turned around, his eyes wide, before he drew his gun and took off toward the building. Why was he leaving? A rock the size of Mount Rushmore lodged in her gut, choking her. She raised her hand still holding the gun. It felt foreign, as if it wasn’t under her control. A cacophony of sounds shattered the long silence, bangs and crashes bouncing off the narrow walls, and Ava had to resist the urge to clamp her hands over her ears. Instead, she raised her arm higher, desperately pointing the gun toward where her supposed protector had run. Though if the Kings were in trouble, she was glad he was gone. She would have told him to in a heartbeat if she had any clue what was going on . . .
A hand closed around the back of her neck, jerking her backward. Ava’s feet fell out from under her, and she scraped her knees as she fell awkwardly against the rough ground. The hand became an arm, wrapping around her neck and dragging her upward against a hard body. This one wasn’t welcoming like Doc’s strong embrace, but unyielding, rough. “Drop it,” a voice whispered in her ear, punctuated by the feel of solid steel pressing against her lower back. One tiny twitch of a finger, and a bullet would go straight through her T10, likely rendering her unable to ever walk again. The gun barrel nudged hard against her spinal column. “Now.”
Ava closed her eyes and prayed as the gun Doc gave her clattered to the ground.
25
Doc
Their progress was frustratingly slow. More than once, Doc had wanted to just start shooting randomly through the walls. Maybe that way they’d finally draw some attention, and he could get on with shit. They’d come across a couple of the fuckers right at the entrance. Dumb as posts. Either the Jokers had scraped up their leftovers to use as barrier guards, holding the real guys inside, or they had underestimated the strength of the Steel Kings.
Doc’s grip on his gun tightened. He didn’t believe the Jokers hadn’t anticipated a fight like this. The two clubs had met enough times to know the other’s strengths and weaknesses. Know thine enemy. Shakespeare had researched the shit out of their enemies, and he had to believe the Jokers had done the same. At the very least, they’d known enough about the Kings to know exactly where their home base was, and when to attack when the majority would be inside. It was through sheer dumb luck that it had only been the men present at that moment. Did they have someone like Shakespeare working for them? He hoped not.
The man himself was holding base back at their original rendezvous position, still out of action from the gunshot wound he’d sustained in the raid. As much as Doc hated to be down a man, it was also the best place for Shakespeare. That man’s brain was enormous, and he could think strategy or find information faster than anyone else Doc knew. He was the perfect man to be keeping watch over the fray.
He inched forward, moving slowly in what was nearly pitch black. The men he’d left unconscious back at their entry point might be waking up soon if they didn’t speed this shit up. The sleeper hold he and Sticks had applied only kept a man out for thirty seconds, maybe less, but that was just enough time for Doc to inject them with midazolam. He’d prepped and held several syringes in a hidden pocket on the inside of his cut for just an occasion. These idiots weren’t Jokers, or if they were, they’d been smart enough to remove their colors, but Doc wasn’t going to kill someone who he couldn’t be sure had played a hand in taking his daughter. The dazzle was enough to knock them out cold for long enough to get the mission done, and had the handy side effect of completely destroying their ability to make new memories, for a while anyway. But the time they came to, they’d find themselves back at HQ and at the mercy of Merc while he found out exactly who they were and how much they knew. For now, they were restrained, weaponless, and out of the way, unless things didn’t start going faster, in which case he was in real danger of one of them regaining enough consciousness to make a ruckus.
If only he could turn on a fucking light. Not only was the place shrouded in darkness, blackout curtains had been installed on the windows, blocking any meager light he might have been able to use from a streetlight or passing car. Waiting until the sun rose had simply been out of the question, not only just strategically. There was no way he was leaving Emily to suffer in the hands of the Jokers for one second longer than necessary.
Going in immediately and strong was the only way he could guarantee they wouldn’t have time to get her out of town. They hadn’t managed to figure out how yet, but the inner circle of the Kings were sure the Jokers had a way to smuggle their “merchandise” out of town. Hell if he was going to let them take a single step with his daughter.
Finally, they made their way to the stairs at the end of the room and up three flights. He stood guard at every door entrance from the stairwell, sweeping up and down while the others cleared the rooms. They were quick and efficient—Sticks and Merc had trained their team well. Several of the Steel Kings were former military but not all. But you wouldn’t know it from the clean, efficient way each room was searched and then cleared. Dust clung to the walls and
floor, leaving obvious footprints in their wake. Cigarette butts sat in neat little piles in odd places. Someone had stood in certain positions for long stretches of time. Perhaps keeping watch? Whoever they were and whatever they were watching were both long gone. Doors to rooms hung open, revealing the occasional piece of old furniture covered with sheets. Perhaps the broken-down pieces in the alley he’d hidden Ava behind were the ones that hadn’t survived the cull.
Each floor was silent save for the slight crunch under Stick’s feet as he walked the hall. Doc didn’t want to think about what was in the carpet. Merc’s footsteps couldn’t be heard, as always. The man was a fucking ghost. Even when you were looking dead at him, his presence almost didn’t register, as if he was in possession of some Jedi mindfuck to get you to ignore him, to look away, disregard him. That was the way Merc liked it.
Doc cocked his head and tightened his grip on his gun. He was damn glad the man was on their side. As Sticks and Merc made their way back along the hall, he listened. The abandoned hotel was in prime 107 Hoover territory, a nationwide gang with a large presence in Oklahoma. They had a rep as heavy drug dealers with a particular lust for violence. Doc would not be surprised at all to find them hooking up a buy with the Jokers, for drugs or something worse. But the hotel itself was free of tags or clues—hell, free of god damn anything. He stepped silently up to the final landing. If this set of rooms also proved empty, then they were back to square one. Doc didn’t know how he could handle that. How he could face Ava and tell her Emily was still missing. How the fuck could he . . .
A light flickered. Dim, and only for a second, but it was enough. Doc shook his head, blinking. Had he imagined it? The thin strip of light had appeared almost at his feet under the door. Shivers ran through him, and he forced them back, only to have his skin break out in goose pimples when the light flickered again.
Vengeance (Steel Kings MC Book 3) Page 13