Stryker nodded, sighing as he reached for me, pulling me into his arms out of line of sight of the slats in the wood. He nodded his head and Brock shut off the lights.
While I felt safe in Stryker’s arms, I knew it was temporary. It had to be. We had to get out of there and we didn’t have a lot of options.
“We need to get out of here.” Brock said what we were all thinking. We all turned to face Stryker as if expecting him to have the plan that none of us could identify.
“We can’t go out the windows.” Gunner moved to sit on a chair at a desk. He thrummed his fingers on the edge of his seat and stared toward the dark ceiling.
“What’d you see when you came this way, Gray? What was Tiny doing?” Stryker murmured against my ear and I straightened as I realized maybe I had information that could help.
“He was setting up a gun with a ton of ammo. He saw me and then told me to warn you guys. He looked kind of crazy.” I didn’t feel like hounding the fact that he’d proven he couldn’t be trusted. Stryker didn’t need to be reminded over and over that he’d been let down by a man who had fought alongside his dad, someone he’d thought of like a reliable uncle.
“How many are out there?” Brock leaned forward, his silhouette blocking the minimal light breaking through the tiny lines between the wood boards.
“I saw four cop vehicles, but that was just out the back. I have no idea how many are out front or even what they’re here for.” I lowered my gaze, biting my lip. The pressures of the last few weeks compounded, crushing me. I moved away from Stryker and sank onto the edge of the bed against the wall. “That’s a lie. I keep lying.” I grabbed my right wrist with my left hand and squeezed. I needed the grounding from the surreality of the situation. “They’re here for me. Why wouldn’t they be here for me? They haven’t dropped their warrant, right? Why would they?” The cops wouldn’t give up looking for me, no matter what the Russians or Dominick or Stryker said.
Brock stood, brushing his hands down the back of his pants. “I’m going to check things out. I’ll be back.”
I held my breath, waiting for someone else to stop him from going outside or out in the living room. What was he thinking?
“You guys, no. Brock, don’t go out there. Seriously, there’s something wrong with Tiny.” Nothing I said conveyed what I was actually thinking or feeling.
And no one was listening to me. I had to stop Brock. I had to make him hear me.
I leapt from the bed, jumping in front of Brock before he could get to the door. He jerked back and then shook his head. “Okay, move, Gray. I won’t be gone long. I’ll be careful, blah blah blah.” He waited a minute and then stretched out his hands to wrap them around my waist. “No, really, you need to move.”
I lifted my knee, swinging up from the side and catching him just below the ribs with my inverted shin. Brock crunched to the side and speared his upper shoulder with the corner of my elbow. No matter what I had going on, I could always come back to my fighting.
He groaned, clutching at his waist and leaning to the side until he was supported by the wall. I’d only been able to get any kind of reaction out of him because I’d caught him by surprise.
We were in that trust versus loyalty dichotomy. I wasn’t going to let anyone hurt him – not even himself.
“What’d you do, Gray?” Gunner pushed to stand beside Brock. He hissed at me, but didn’t touch me in retaliation. “You don’t need to hurt him. He has to go. Someone does. Brock is our most qualified scout. You don’t have any idea what he can do.” Gunner helped Brock up and I swallowed back my apologies. I wasn’t sorry and I would do it again.
“No, you’re not going out there. We can figure this out without one of us getting separated from the rest.” I wasn’t sure when they’d become so important to me, or when I’d accepted it. I wasn’t going to demand they listen to me. At least not verbally.
Without raising my voice, I encompassed them all with my comment. “You’re all bigger than me, but I won’t stop fighting to keep you safe.” There. I’d shared my feelings and I wasn’t going to be able to take them back. The intimacy of the dark made it easier to be honest where in another time or place, I might have held back the truth.
They didn’t say anything. Was it possible I felt something for the three of them that wasn’t returned?
Stryker approached me, his hands up, just barely discernible in the dim lighting. “Gray, no one is going to force you to fight. We just want you to trust us.” His tone soothed me and I lowered my hands from my guard position I naturally fell into.
He bent as if to check on Brock and in less than a second I was wrapped up in a hold that pinned my arms to my sides and held my head at a tight angle. He murmured in my ear, “I’m sorry, but we need to keep you safe more than you need us safe.”
How did I respond to that? I wanted to melt at the sentiment behind the words, but I wanted to lift my heel and nail him in the crotch at the same time. Who did he think he was? He couldn’t just manhandle me whenever he wanted.
Except… as Brock ducked out the door, I had to admit that I’d just tried the same thing. While I wasn’t as strong as them, at least my hits had been memorable and understood.
I wished I could say I didn’t fight Stryker’s hold, that I had more pride than struggling against his arms and trying to slam my heel down on his foot, but I can’t.
Stryker swayed me to the side, setting me off-balance as he chuckled softly. “Your feet should be registered as weapons of mass destruction.”
I didn’t laugh like he wanted me to. The moment didn’t lighten up for me and I couldn’t believe he could even attempt to be relaxed with cops around the house and Brock outside doing who knew what.
Gunner moved from the door and walked to the window, ducking down to peek out a window hole. “Porch lights are on and so are the floodlights. No headlights from the cars. This wasn’t a surprise drop by, Stryker.”
Nodding as if he wasn’t shocked, Stryker spread his legs shoulder-width apart and folded his arms across his chest. “Give Brock a minute to get the information we need. Don’t rush it.”
Gunner clamped his lips shut and nodded. He must have been the impatient one of the group. That made me feel even more of a kinship with the guy. I had about as much patience as a crowd waiting for a knockout call in the ring.
A lot of things came into focus as we waited. The fact that I’d been closer to information about my mom in the last week then I’d been since she left had me reeling on what the entire thing had to do with me.
When Dominick had said he knew my mom but in the present tense I’d been drugged and groggy, but that comment hadn’t slipped through. He knew her and judging by the things he said, he knew her intimately which just left me feeling dirty and unsure of everything in life.
I mean, if she’d left because of something I’d done, I could understand that. I could even hate myself for breaking up the family and not being enough for her.
If she’d left because of something my dad did, I could hate him, I could blame him for upsetting her, or anything that he could have controlled. But when she was gone and I didn’t have a reason to assign to the cause of my pain, the hate and anger grew and grew, moving into an implosion of pain and anger that festered with no pretense and no container. I had no direction to aim my hatred which left me bereft of just what to do with the overflowing feelings from her loss.
Gunner might complain about the way his dad left his life, but at least there was closure. At least there was no doubt why he’d done what he’d done. I studied what I could see of Gunner in the shadows of the room. He held his back straight and his shoulders straighter, even under the immense pressure of his past.
Would that be so bad? To know that there was nothing he could have done to help his dad? To know that none of his father’s absence was his fault… I couldn’t even imagine what it would be like to not wonder every moment of my life what my mom was doing right then. Did she think of me? Did she m
iss me? Did she ever check in on me without me knowing about it?
No. My heartache couldn’t accept that suicide was worse than being abandoned. Gunner hadn’t gone into the details about why his father killed himself, but he’d said he knew what the reasons were.
My mom left without any warning. As far as my dad or I knew, she could have been kidnapped. Although, knowing my mom she’d never allow that.
I really just wanted to know if she was alive or not. That’s all. If she was alive, I’d like to think that I would be fine not knowing where she was or what she was doing. I’d like to think I was that comfortable with my life without her in it.
I wasn’t sure about anything though. We had fallen into what felt like a solemn assembly with our arms folded and our senses on high alert.
Gunner’s cologne had a distinct spice to the upper edge as it moved around me. When Stryker moved, I could smell him, but also feel the vibrations as my body was aware of every move he made.
He breathed in and it felt like he breathed for me. I exhaled and his silhouette seemed to sag forward like he was the one to breathe outward. We were caught in this threesome without being aware of who was the pull and who wasn’t.
The door opened suddenly and we all spun to face the threshold at the same time.
Brock slipped inside, closing it again, and we all heaved a sigh of relief.
Rushing fully into the center of the room, his eyes wide and catching the small light from the holes in the window boards, Brock’s whisper reached every crevice of the room. “Tiny’s coming and he has definitely lost it.”
At least I wasn’t the only one who’d recognized the signs.
Chapter 23
Gray
“What happened?” Stryker moved closer to Brock, his shoulder forming an edge as he abutted with his cousin.
Gunner moved into place across from Stryker, rubbing elbows as they closed ranks. There was room in the group for one more. I could see where I would fit, if they would allow it. Did I dare it? Did I dare the possible rejection of trying to fit in? They’d already taught me at school that I wasn’t one of them, that I’d never fit in or be accepted.
Did I dare challenge what their actions had already demonstrated?
I had to, though. So much had happened since my last day at school where I’d left from the bullying. I couldn’t just think I was the only one who’d noticed a shift in how we were around each other.
I slowly leaned forward, stepping toward them and inserting myself into the spot that completed a square. They didn’t seem to notice, as if that was my spot and they’d been waiting for me to move in.
Brock’s voice dropped to a sullen whisper. “There are eight cop cars outside. Four in front and then four lining the drive down to the barn. The truck is still down there, but the SUV has been penned in by two of the cars. We’re stuck in that regard.”
Stryker and Gunner stared into the dark space between us in the direction of our feet as they thought through the situation. I couldn’t think. I didn’t know the lay of the land, but I knew that to get out of there, all we needed to do was get to the road past the forest on the north side of the property and we could hitch hike from there.
Maybe. Maybes seemed to line my life and that didn’t make me feel very safe about anything.
The door opened again and this time we had a reason to turn as a group, protective stances in place as we raised our guards.
There was no one left outside of the four of us that would have a reason to be there that would be trustworthy. Sara was the only other person I trusted at the moment and she was wrapped up in her own crap.
Tiny didn’t bother closing the door behind him as he stood boldly in the open doorway. He held onto the doorknob with a relaxed grip, studying each of us as if we were one unit or an extension of each other.
“Ah, Gray, you did come down here. You left so fast.” He grinned at me, the light from the hall casting a long shadow across his face and leaving the lines of his smile in deep distress.
Did I answer? Had he asked a question? There was an underlying tone there that I couldn’t pin down. Was he trying to figure out what I was doing or where I was going? Did he know I suspected him as one of the men who held me?
“Yeah, she came down here. What’s going on, Tiny? What’s with the cops outside?” Stryker held his stance, not lowering his hands or lessening the tension in his shoulders and back.
Tiny scoffed as he tilted his head to the side and pivoted his body so there was room for someone to pass by him.
I held my breath. Was someone coming in? Had he let the cops in? We had no way out. I didn’t want to get arrested. I couldn’t go back into a cell. I wouldn’t be drugged or tied up or beat, but a cell was a cell and my claustrophobia couldn’t handle that kind of torture again.
Stryker nudged my shoulder and leaned down, whispering in my ear without moving enough to be noticed. “If we need to, you make a break for it through the back slider. The boys and I will distract them.” He didn’t look at me and so missed the look of disbelief on my face as I snapped my face his direction.
I would never let someone else suffer just so I could escape. That wasn’t how I worked and I couldn’t help being slightly offended that he would even suggest the option.
Maybe he didn’t know me like I’d hoped he did.
“Why don’t you guys come out to the kitchen so we can talk?” Tiny’s voice took on an edge that didn’t brook argument. I glanced at Stryker. Would we follow Tiny out? How far did Stryker and the guys trust him?
Stryker slowly lowered his hands but didn’t drop his guard in any other way. He shook his head. “Sorry, Tiny. We can talk just as well here.”
Moving to flip the light switch, Tiny paused when Stryker spoke again. “No lights. We’re already vulnerable as it is. Start explaining, because from where I’m sitting, you’re not looking too good. Family shouldn’t treat family this way.”
Tiny moved to take up the space in the doorway again, letting me relax since he wasn’t waiting for anyone to pass by but us. “If you think it’s appropriate to talk about this in the dark, then fine. We can do that.” He laughed, waving his hand our direction as he leaned against the side of the doorjamb away from the hinges. He stared at us, watching for something we weren’t giving him.
Stryker straightened first, slowly trusting that nothing was going to happen in the immediate future. The rest of us settled around him, careful to keep our eyes open. Stryker was giving the signal that he trusted the situation and maybe even Tiny and that set me on edge.
Tiny’s voice was too familiar, too related to my trauma. I didn’t want to be in that room where the light was dimmer than the living room and kitchen.
“Well, I hate to tell you guys this, but some things are stronger than family.” Tiny hung his head a minute, tucking his chin toward his chest before lifting his gaze again to take us in with one look. “Dominick is coming to claim you, Gray. The cops are… in his pocket if you want to define it that way.”
The light shifted outside the window and I flinched as it lit up Tiny’s face. His eyes were large with the white easy to see around his irises.
“Why would you call Dominick? Is Dominick the one who held Gray?” Gunner didn’t wait for Stryker’s signal or even for him to lead the questioning. He clenched his hands at his sides and stared at Tiny with his chin jutted out.
Tiny shrugged. “I don’t expect you to understand, Gunner. You never did fully understand why your dad killed himself. You guys were like my own kids at times. I loved you – love you still. But your expectations are so strict. I have to kill people. I have to. The fact that I get paid to do it is a bonus and enough jobs that I don’t have to search for my own opportunities.”
“Uncle Hunter didn’t like doing it.” Brock’s soft voice couldn’t hide the tumultuous pain rocketing through the cousins.
“I’m not saying I like it, Brock. I’m saying I have to do it. Hunter… he had to do it the same
as me. Unfortunately, the only difference between the two of us is that he had a conscience. I might have once upon a time, but I abandoned that notion long ago.” Tiny laughed, but the sound lacked conviction.
“Tell me the truth. Did you have a job in Timbercreek the night you shot me?” Stryker hesitated as he asked his question, as if maybe he didn’t want to know the answer but had to ask anyway.
“I was there for a job, yes.” Tiny tilted his head down, and then looked up, the light hit his eyes, reflecting off and giving him a serpent appearance.
“What was the job, Tiny?” Was I the job? I had to ask, too. It felt like we were stuck in a form of inertia we couldn’t slow down.
“Stryker was the job, Gray. He wouldn’t kill you like Dominick asked. He wouldn’t stop looking for you when Dominick grabbed you, so Dominick ordered a job. I wasn’t sure if I was going to do it or not, so stop giving me that look of betrayal, Stryker. I didn’t kill you. It would have been easy, too. You left yourself open like a stupid game bird. You know the rules. When you hear a shot, you drop – hit or not.” He shook his head, lifting his hand to rub his eyebrows with the back of his fingers.
“If Dominick ordered the job, why didn’t you follow through?” Brock jumped in, probably the last one who didn’t have shock controlling his vocal cords.
“I owe Dominick. I didn’t have time to involve the Russians who want Dominick almost as much as they want Gray. But he won’t survive the night. He doesn’t know Stryker is still alive. I didn’t giveaway that secret. But he knows Gray is here. That’s the only way I could get him here.” His jaw set with anger and his eyes narrowed.
“Why are the cops just waiting?” My whisper didn’t seem to disturb anyone as they stared into space at Tiny’s revelations.
“Well, dear, they’re waiting for me to either kill hostages, release hostages, or order them to arrest you. They all have been told conflicting information so while they wait to filter through and figure out the facts, we’re going to do what we need to do.” He moved into the room then, striding toward me with a suddenness that left me breathless. He pressed close, the distance between us no more than inches.
Her Brawlers: A high school bully romance (Bad Boys of Jameson High Book 2) Page 20