We weren’t safe from the growing smoke in our new positions tucked under the house. If anything, the duct system allowed the smoke to billow down beneath the house with a vengeance. We pulled our shirt collars up over our noses and mouths, rolling to our hands and knees as we crawled in the opposite direction of the living room and kitchen. We wanted to get out of trouble, not dive headlong into the fire – literally.
Tiny had placed ty-par under his house over the dirt when he’d first put the place in. Bins tucked under the house held who knew what and we didn’t have time to check the contents as we crawled by.
The covering under us rustled with our movements but the sound never made it anywhere with the sounds of yelling, more shots, engines, and the crackling of fire fighting to get through the paneling separating the crawlspace from everything else.
We moved further from the door, deeper under the house but closer to freedom.
Tiny had once shown us the trapdoor to the crawlspace and made us crawl under the house to the exit. One thing about Tiny’s paranoia was he constantly came up with things we would need to run from.
Thankfully, he wasn’t too far off base.
We got to the end of the line, where the foundation paneling should open into the backyard, where the grass should spread out from there like a hidden blanket to hide under. But Brock and I came up short as we pushed against the original opening and nothing happened. We looked closer, taking a deep breath when we realized Tiny had boarded the exit up from under the house.
For whatever reason, Tiny had locked us in there.
I wasn’t sure we were going to get out.
Chapter 25
Gray
The bush outside the window scratched at my skin, tugging at my hair. Gunner slid from the window, his belt loop on his pants snagging on the corner of the window. He grunted, frustration and impatience in the slap of his hand as he batted his pants down.
Gunner grabbed my hand, all but dragging me to the edge of the house. He stopped me inches before the corner, peeking from between the house and the brush. He pulled me to tuck against his chest so he could speak into my ear with minimal sound.
The way he held me reminded me of how a brother might hold his sister. There was no longing, no heat, and I was grateful. It was hard enough having an insatiable craving for one of the Jamesons. I’m not sure what I would do, if I craved all three of them.
“The next round of shooting, we’re going to run like all out hell is after us. Got it? Head for the line of trees over there. If we get separated, head down toward the barn, stay in the trees, and there’s a four-wheeler you’ll see. Take it back to the factory. The password for the tunnel is semperfi3 – all lower case and the three is actually a digit.” He glanced sharply at me, gauging my attention.
I nodded and tensed my muscles, hoping to wake them up enough to perform how I needed them to. Where was Stryker and Brock? They should be joining us. Stryker had said something about grabbing Tiny, but why? He’d shifted on them, rolled over like a dog on people who were supposed to be like family to him.
I’d leave Tiny, let him wallow in the mess he’d made. Or maybe I wouldn’t. It’s not like I completely understood their relationship to the giant of a man. My experiences with him were from the other side of the spectrum and not rosy.
I turned to look back. Gunner shifted so his chest blocked my view. I glanced sharply up, searching his features for a reason.
Gunner jerked his head side to side with the barest of movement. “Don’t look back. No matter what. Do you understand?”
What was that supposed to mean? Don’t look back.
I bit my lip, tasting copper as blood leaked onto my tongue. I stared toward the tree line, holding my breath before I could ask him. “Aren’t you guys supposed to stay together, no matter what? Isn’t that the mission or something?”
“You’re my mission. Stryker assigned me to you. I don’t have a choice. He calls the shots. That’s how it is. He wants you protected, then that’s what will happen. I don’t have a say in where I’m needed.” He dropped into a half-crouch, pulling on my shoulder to make me drop as well. “Get ready.”
I couldn’t see anyone out there, on the back end of the lawn. While cars spread down the drive, it seemed everyone had congregated along the front yard, focused on the action coming from the front windows.
A shot rang out and Gunner tapped my back. Like I was in track, the tap triggered my nerves. I jerked forward, sprinting full force in three steps across the slight plateau of the yard and then down the hill toward the tree line.
My lungs burned as I pumped my arms, harder and harder and harder. It had been over a week since I’d run last and I could feel my inactivity in the stiffness of my muscles. Thankfully, muscle memory was a real thing and I shifted into the downhill sprint after a jerky start.
Gunner’s long legs could have easily overtaken me with the pull of going downhill. Instead, he seemed to shadow me, slowing when I did, speeding up when I did, and veering around like I did. Then it hit me, just what he meant by I was his mission.
He would have stayed back with his cousins, if Stryker hadn’t ordered him to get me to safety.
Running straight down a hill wasn’t the best time to have an epiphany about the workings of the groups’ dynamics. I gripped my hands into fists as I softened my knees to absorb the shock of pounding when I transitioned from grass to gravel road. Focusing on the run was the only way I was going to get out of there.
Shouts followed us down the hill, punctuated with a shot and the zing of a ricochet.
From somewhere deep inside, I pulled out more speed. Tucking my chin, I bent at the waist to dig for more speed. Gunner kept up with me, his breath matching mine as he didn’t veer too far from me.
We broke into the tree line at the same time, crashing through the underbrush with little regard for where we stepped. Neither of us was stopping until we had the protection of multiple tree trunks behind us.
I bent at the waist, not out of breath but dizzier at the speed we’d rushed from the house.
“We can’t stop.” Gunner reached for my elbow and I jerked from his hold.
“Can we just give them a second to catch up?” All the four-wheelers I’d seen in my life would have a hard time carrying the four of us, but that didn’t mean we had to leave them behind. The ATV would have a hard time, it didn’t mean it was impossible.
We faced the house from where we stood, hidden fully in the brush. No one pursued us with most of the focus on the house. From our vantage point, we could see where Stryker and Brock would come out.
A smudge of smoke captured the light in the front of the house. The cloud billowed, growing bigger and bigger with the bottom curve reflecting an orange glow that could only be made by fire.
I reached for Gunner’s arm, clutching at his skin as I stared at the house. Where was Stryker and Brock?
“We’ve already waited long enough, Gray. We have to go. They know where to meet. Trust them. Trust him.” Gunner reached his arm around my shoulders and redirected me away from the house.
Numb, I did as he instructed. It wasn’t just them I was supposed to trust, it was Stryker. Didn’t it always come back to Stryker?
I fell into an easy jog behind Gunner as he led the way through the woods around the perimeter of Tiny’s property. I couldn’t imagine what kind of betrayal Stryker and his cousins were feeling as they’d discovered things about their surrogate uncle.
I couldn’t get it through my head that he’d loved my mom. I couldn’t get anything through my head of what was happening.
Gunner pulled up short, raising his left hand in a fist beside his shoulder. I stopped, staring at the closed fingers like they should mean something. He shook his head and then waved his hand, pointing the opposite direction from the barn. Gunner sprinted lightly through the brush, ducking behind a copse of cedar trees and using the low hanging branches for cover.
I followed, careful to stay on his t
ail. We crouched there in the wet dirt, staring around us as if the woods had a secret.
We needed help. I didn’t consult Gunner as I pulled out my phone. I texted Sara.
Can you get us? Same area as last time.
Gunner didn’t argue. We were in trouble and he knew it. How did you deny the truth?
My phone screen lit up when she texted back.
On my way. I stole his car. Once we don’t need it, let’s trash it. Be there in forty minutes.
“She’ll be here in almost an hour. We just have to hang on.” By then, Stryker and Brock would have joined us and we could all get out of there at the same time. We could hide at the bunker, maybe call out for pizza or something. Although, I was pretty sure calling takeout to your secret hideout made it just a hideout and not a secret any more.
Gunner nodded, glancing around us, not relaxing in his role as my protector.
“Why didn’t we get the four-wheeler?” I folded my arms, tucking my fingers into my armpits to keep them warm from the surprising cold.
“Something didn’t feel right. My dad… he always taught me that if your gut says one thing and your orders say something else, you go with your gut. You can handle the consequences of disobeying, but you can’t handle the death part.” He glanced down, picking up a fallen pinecone and tossing it toward my feet. “I didn’t always listen, but when it came down to survival things, I absorbed as much as I could.”
“My dad taught me something similar but it really only had to do with the ring. He’s not good at life otherwise.” I smiled weakly and wrapped my arms around my legs with my knees bent toward my chest.
“At least he’s trying.” Gunner shrugged, looking past me as if he could see in the dark.
“True. There is that.” But Gunner and I didn’t see things the same way. He might have lost his dad, but it sounded like his father had been present, he’d just had issues with things that had happened to him while he was away fighting in the military. He’d come home damaged. That didn’t mean he was a bad guy, it meant he’d been broken and didn’t know how to fix himself.
My dad… was something much weaker, much less honorable, and I doubted he could ever be fixed. He was still my father, but he wasn’t someone I was entirely proud of.
We sat together in silence, waiting for a sign that Sara was coming, that the boys were coming, that anyone was going to join us. The minutes ticked past and every sound made us catch our breaths and freeze.
“Do you think they’re coming?” I narrowed my eyes to see Gunner better in the dark. Every nuance of his features would tell me if he was lying or not.
“They’ll meet us at the bunker, if we don’t see them here. Don’t worry. They’ll be there.” Gunner nodded toward my phone sitting on the ground at my side. “You just got a message.”
I jolted, dropping my hand to grab the phone and pull it to my face. A text from Sara was exactly what we needed.
I’m near that place. Where are you?
I texted as fast as I could in response.
Stick to the road. We’ll be standing on the side.
It could have been déjà vu as I stood, brushing my pants and striding from the protection of the trees to climb onto the road. Lights aways off moved slowly our direction and it had to be Sara.
I motioned to Gunner to hurry. “Come on.” Off in the distance, smoke billowed in the air and more gunshots were muffled by the trees but not eradicated.
Sara slowed the sedan she’d stolen and the locks clicked up.
I climbed in front while Gunner grabbed a rear seat. We closed our doors and I glanced at Sara. “We need to get to the factory, fast. Just get out of here. We’ll deal with questions and all of that as we drive.”
She put her foot on the gas, tearing out of there. Gunner and I stared heavily out of the windows in case Stryker and Brock appeared on the road and we needed to stop.
Gunner seemed so certain that they’d be at the bunker. He seemed confident enough that we’d just driven away without them, even though my gut told me to go back.
“You know, you just left me out there last week, right?” Sara glanced at me, keeping her eyes mostly on the road.
I nodded, blinking back guilty tears that were more susceptible to release after the chaos we’d just left behind. “I know. I’m sorry. They said they had Dad. I just wanted to fix it, you know? Fix it without hurting anyone else or putting anyone else in danger.” I sagged back against the seat, my shoulders dropping as I crossed my arms over my chest.
“Where’s Brock and Stryker?” Sara slowed at a stop sign and turned left. At least she remembered where we were and where we needed to go.
“Tiny… called the cops and Dominick. Gunner got me out. Stryker and Brock are coming. They said they’d be at the factory. They…” I swallowed, turning back to Gunner and fixing him with my gaze. “Promise me they’ll be there. Gunner, tell me your gut isn’t telling you to turn back and save them. Because mine is screaming that we’re going in the wrong direction.”
He shook his head, bracing his arm on the seat on either side of him as he stared out the window. After about thirty seconds of silence, he looked at me. “You don’t understand. Stryker made me swear I wouldn’t come back for him. No matter what. He made me swear on my father that I would get you to the factory and in the safety of the bunker before I did anything else. Anything else. Do you understand? This isn’t about following orders, Gray. This is about honoring what could possibly be the last wishes of one of my best friends, my brothers. This isn’t about you. It’s about something bigger.” His voice broke on the last word and he looked back out the window.
Slowly, I turned to face forward, grateful Sara hadn’t interjected anything. She waited quietly beside me, turning the wheel and just being present.
We closed the distance to the factory in silence, each minute passing with thoughts full of what-ifs and I should have done something different.
Parking outside the tunnel, we climbed from the car, all of us slow and unsure. Gunner let us in, careful to make sure all the security measures were in place behind us as we walked further into the mountainside.
“This is really cool.” Sara whispered as we walked through the conference room and into the bunker Gunner opened for us.
I nodded with a half-smile as I tried to ignore the bunks where Stryker had held me and pretty much the entire bunker where he’d stalked me like his prey.
Gunner had spoken like he knew his cousins weren’t coming back and there was nothing he could do about any of it.
I turned toward him, lifting my hands as I spoke. “We’re here. We’re safe. Can you go back now? Can you save them?” I didn’t expect him to save them by himself, but he’d said he couldn’t do anything else until I was safe in the bunker. Well, there I was. Did he think I was just going to sit there and wait?
“I don’t even know where to start on my own.” Gunner sank onto a chair by the table, slouching forward as he braced his elbows on his knees. He pressed his face into his hands and I had to accept that this was harder on him than it was on me.
Those guys were his family. They were all he had and he most likely lost them tonight. We had no idea what had happened afterward, but with that much gunfire and flames, the odds were it wasn’t good.
I moved to take a seat beside him, pulling my phone from my pocket and setting it on the table in front of me. Sara followed suit, copying everything I did except the phone part and leaning forward.
I reached out, grabbing her hand and smiling with a scrunched-up nose. “Thanks for coming. Sorry, it was so late.” I didn’t care about the time.
“You’re fine. I stole his car and he’s not going to call the cops because I’m ready to report him and I told him that. I almost want him to call anyway. I would love to have a reason to let the police know what he’s been up to. I think it would violate his parole.” She smiled and wrapped her arm around my back, pulling me in for a hug. “I was so worried about you. When you’re u
p for it, you’ll have to tell me what happened and where you were.”
I nodded, but I didn’t think that was something I wanted to talk about any time soon. The fact was, I just wanted to survive until I was old enough to run away without repercussions. If I was eighteen, I could leave. I could go anywhere I wanted and no one would get to stop me.
My phone buzzed on the table and I flicked my eyes at the screen.
Stryker’s name flashed on the screen. I squeaked, catching Gunner’s attention. “It’s Stryker.”
All of our hope crescendoed and I could feel myself inflating with air and possibility. He was calling which meant he was still alive. There was a pause as I stared at the phone, Gunner watching breathlessly beside me.
I swiped up, lifting the phone to my ear, grateful for a chance to hear him and to make sure he was okay.
“Stryker, oh my hell, where are you? We can come get you.” I pushed away from the table, standing and moving toward the door. Of course, we’d go get them. Right then. All three of us were ready.
“Gray?” A woman’s voice I recognized as one I thought I would never hear again crawled across the line.
I froze, staring at the crease where the door sealed with the wall. I didn’t answer. I didn’t need to.
She continued speaking, her voice firm, like I’d always remembered it. She hadn’t left me that long ago that I’d forget the way she sounded when she wanted something.
“I need you. And if you don’t hurry, there’s nothing you’ll be able to do for Stryker or Brock. You’ll let us all down. Don’t do that.” My mom hung up the phone. The first time I’d heard from her in over a year and she threatened Stryker and Brock.
I stared at the phone in my hand as I turned, leaning against the door and sinking to the floor until my butt hit the concrete. My mom was with Stryker. She needed me to do something, but she hadn’t said what.
What exactly was my mom involved in and what was I going to have to do now?
Her Brawlers: A high school bully romance (Bad Boys of Jameson High Book 2) Page 22