Sly (21 page)

While I kept shooting, Scarlett checked on Colt. He put a hand up. “Just nicked me in the shoulder,” he said. “I think my damn ear drum’s blown out.”
 

“Gunner, are you hit?” I called out.
 

He was still pressed against the wall looking white as a sheet. He shook his head. “When I say go, we haul ass out of here, okay?” Gunner nodded. I looked to Scarlett. “Grab him if he falls over.”
 

She gave me a thumbs up, grabbed another magazine from the purse slung over her shoulder and jammed it in to her Glock hard.
 

“Now!” I shouted.
 

With his hands still tied behind him, Gunner barrel rolled over to where we were crouched. Scarlett popped around the wall and let off another round. She ducked just as the drywall exploded above her head.
 

“Shit,” she hissed. “I think it’s just one. Colt’s gun is on the coffee table. How much have you got left?” Her eyes blazed when she looked at me. I’d walked into chaos, the woman before me was a stranger. And yet, as she fixed those brilliant hazel eyes on me, her breasts heaving with exertion and adrenalin, my heart thumped. This was a different kind of turn-on and I knew I might be losing my damn mind.
 

“I’m probably half empty,” I said. She nodded, pulled another clip out of her purse and tossed it to me.
 

Black Talon. “Good choice.” I said. She pulled a knife out of her back pocket.
 

“You planning on throwing that?” This from Colt.
 

Scarlett cocked her head, shrugged, then cut through the zip ties binding Gunner’s wrists. “Can you move fast when you have to, big guy?”
 

Gunner nodded.
 

She looked back at me. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes flashed. I had twin urges to either shake or kiss her senseless. She mouthed “trust me.” Then she stood up and put herself in the line of fire. The air went out of my lungs when I realized what she was doing.
 

“Is that you, Varney?” she called out. “Your aim is still for shit.”
 

Silence. I started to rise to stand next to Scarlett. She put a hand on my shoulder to still me. Then she put a finger to her lips.
 

“I wasn’t trying to hit you, Scarlett.” The shout came from the back patio. Way too close for my liking but she was smart. We could gauge how close he was by the sound of his voice. “That’s your one courtesy warning. You shoot back again and I’m not going to give a fuck.”
 

“Oh, Varney. You’re breaking my heart. And you’re claim jumping. This isn’t your job. So just get the hell out of here and I
won’t
keep shooting back. You know how good my aim is.”
 

Another shot cracked just above her head, ricocheting off the light fixture and cracking into more drywall. Scarlett didn’t so much as flinch. My blood roiled. My fingers twitched on the trigger.  Enough of this shit. I put my fingers in her back pocket and pulled her down. When she looked at me, I  made a small movement with my chin, pointing toward the front door. I motioned to Colt and Gunner. Inch by inch, we were on the move.
 

“How’d you hear about this one, Varney?” she called out again and I pulled her backward. “Can you at least clue me in on who fucking sold me out?”
 

Laughter. The shooter was getting closer. I tugged her pants again to get her to look at me. I gestured with five fingers down and grit my teeth so hard I could taste blood. This shit was ending now. Someone was in
my
house, shooting at
my
guys. And she knew exactly fucking why.
 

Did I trust her? If she wanted to kill Colt or Gunner or me, she certainly could have done it by now. And my heart ached from a growing hole in there at the thought she was playing me this entire time. For now though, there was no time to worry about it. I just had to concentrate on getting us the hell out of here and bringing down whoever was out there.
 

I counted down to three with my fingers. Colt and Gunner looked to me. I knew they wanted me to leave her behind. If I misjudged, they’d follow my lead straight into an ambush.
 

Two. One.
 

I started shooting again as the four of us charged down the hallway in a sort of running pig pile.  I kept my free hand on Scarlett’s shoulder. She drew down and started shooting right along with me.
 

And then we were out the front door and running. Gunner had the presence of mind to slam the front door shut behind him and that gave us just the edge we needed to get down to the Hummer before whoever and whatever came blasting through the front door after us.
 

Scarlett stopped short just before diving into the back seat. There was a second guy crouched near the shrubbery in my front yard. I would have shot him dead if she hadn’t stepped in between us. She grabbed him by the shirt collar and sent him sprawling to his knees.
 

“Lewis, you little prick.” She straddled him. His own gun went skittering across the driveway and he put up two shaking hands in front of his face. I didn’t get much of a look at him as I slid into the driver’s seat and revved the engine.
 

“Get us the fuck out of here, Sly,” Colt said from the passenger side. “This has nothing to do with us anymore.”
 

“Scarlett,” I called out. With Colt yelling in my ear, I couldn’t leave her. Even if I was the world’s biggest sucker for thinking it, I couldn’t leave Scarlett. Not without hearing her story. Even if every word of it was a damn lie.
 

I couldn’t hear what the asshole on the ground said to her. Whatever it was didn’t help his case. With a deft flick of her wrist, Scarlett flipped the gun in her hand and knocked the guy in the temple with the barrel. Out cold in an instant, he crumpled to the ground. Then, with more strength than I would have thought possible, Scarlett hauled him to his feet, flung his limp arm around her shoulder and started dragging him toward the car. At the same time, my own front door started to open and I knew hell was about to break loose. Dragging the dead weight of her companion, Scarlett was never going to make it to the car door in time. She pleaded at me with her eyes.
 

“Fuck,” I muttered. Then, with Colt screaming obscenities after me, I slid out of the driver’s seat and went to her. Together, we ran for the car, and heaved the guy in the back.
 

A bullet cracked by my ear as I dove back into the driver’s seat while Scarlett climbed in the back. Then, without looking behind me, I jammed the
Hummer in reverse and slammed on the gas. I felt another bullet bounce off my right front hubcap before I turned the car around and hauled ass down the driveway.
 

Chapter Twenty-One

By the time we reached the Den, Colt had already got the word out that we were on lockdown. The bar patrons had been cleared out. We made a motley group heading in the back door. Colt had blood streaming out of a grazing wound on his shoulder, Gunner lost his lunch in the parking lot, and Scarlett and I brought up the rear dragging her still passed-out captive. She’d called him Lewis.
 

Sawyer held the door open, his expression priceless. When Scarlett and I passed him, he shrugged his shoulders, pointing to the unconscious Lewis. “Who the hell is that?”
 

I looked at Scarlett and back at Sawyer. “He’s . . . he’s Scarlett’s.”
 

Absurd as it was, it seemed to satisfy Sawyer and the others for the time being.  We brought him into the conference room. I ordered most of the membership out save for Sawyer, Colt and Tiny. I heaved Lewis onto the leather couch against the wall. He slumped to the side but he was starting to come around. I got a good look at him for the first time. He was lanky and thin with nut brown hair, thinning at the temples. He wore a tan designer suit—Armani probably—with douchebag loafers and a blue tie. Scarlett removed the tie and bound his hands in front of him with a creditable handcuff knot. Then she took zip ties out of her purse and secured his feet. She was full of fucking surprises today.
 

“Thank you,” was all she said as she finished immobilizing him with the calm efficiency of a career kidnapper.
 

Colt, Sawyer and Tiny had taken a seat at the conference table. They sat there with their hands folded, looking to me for answers. I tore a hand through my hair and started to pace.
 

“What the fuck, Scarlett?”
 

But she was cool as ice and hard as steel. She straightened her back and turned to me. Her eyes were dark, her face almost expressionless. She put her hand behind her and drew her weapon out. Movement behind me as Colt and Sawyer went for theirs. But Scarlett held hers butt out and stretched her arm out slowly, placing her Glock on the table. She held her hands out away from her body and motioned toward the nearest chair with her chin.
 

I sighed deep and nodded. “Sit down.”
 

“Sly,” Colt started. I put a hand up to silence him.
 

“Can we talk alone?” she said. Her voice was flat and dry, like she’d resigned herself to some dark fate. It occurred to me she had good reason to believe she was in mortal danger.
 

“Boss.” Colt spoke up. “Whatever her story, it involves the whole club.”
 

I turned on him. It was my Irish temper flaring. This was still
my
club and I was done with Colt’s bullshit. I thumped my chest over my president patch. Colt gave me a hard look but kept his tongue in his head. I turned back to her. “Colt stays.”
 

Without another word, Sawyer and Tiny shuffled to their feet, did some awkward throat clearing, and left the room. Not before Sawyer shot Colt a look. I didn’t like it one bit that he was looking to him for direction instead of me. For a thousand reasons I wanted to shove my fist through the wall. I took a breath and sat at the far end of the table next to Colt. Then I turned to Scarlett.
 

“Who do you work for?” I said. My words felt like burning acid.
 

Scarlett folded her hands together and placed them in front of her on the table. She blinked hard and pursed her lips. Then raised her head and looked at me, her eyes filled with pain.
 

“I work for whoever is paying me at the moment. Right now, it’s the Devil’s Hawks M.C. Bruce Kagan put a contract out on you. I took it. It’s what I do.”
 

Just like that. Simple words delivered with icy clarity. She gutted me. The Hawks.  The fucking Hawks. Colt’s intel on Jinx Howell staying in her room came back to me, making a cold pit form in my stomach.
 

“You fucked with my brakes.” I kept my eyes fixed on hers. I wanted her to say it.
 

She swallowed hard and pointed her thumbs behind her. “He did that.”
 

I clenched my fists. Colt stirred beside me. I know he was worried I would blow any second.  So was I.
 

“That’s Lewis Drake,” she continued. “Up until today, he more or less acted as my agent. He set up the jobs. I carried them out. He got greedy and tried to do yours on his own. Obviously, he blew it. The only reason Kagan didn’t kill him over it is because he brought me in to finish it. Kagan knew my reputation. I’m one of the best there is.”
 

My blood reached its boiling point. I turned to Colt. “Get out.”
 

He jerked his head back, his eyes widening. “Sly—”
 

“Out. Take that asshole out of here. Stick him in one of the back bedrooms until I figure out what to do with him.”
 

“Sly.”
 

“Now, goddammit.” I pounded my fist on the table hard enough to shake it. Colt flinched. Scarlett didn’t.
 

Slowly, Colt rose to his feet. I stared straight ahead. I didn’t want to see the “I told you so” judgment in his eyes. But right now, my guts were shredded and Scarlett would guard her words with him in the room. She might anyway with him out of it, but I needed to know for myself.
 

Lewis moaned when Colt moved him, but went willingly. His eyes widened as he came to and saw where he was. Scarlett’s eyes never left mine as Colt dragged him out. He shut the door hard.
 

Then Scarlett and I were alone. I said the cruelest thing I could think of.
 

“How much extra did you make for fucking me? You might be one of the best at that too.” I felt bile rise in my throat as soon as I got the words out.
 

She leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms in front of her. “I told you what I do. So, ask yourself why you’re not already dead.”
 

“It’s been a long time since this club had the connections to verify how good you are. I’m not in the business of taking out hits.”
 

“Ten jobs.” She blew a hair away from her eye then rubbed her cheek with her hand. “That was it. Ten jobs. I’d have over two million bucks. Then I’d get to retire. Sunny skies, palm trees. Nothing but the beach.”
 

I snorted. “Let me guess. I’m ten.”
 

She smiled and nodded.
 

“Why me? What’s Kagan’s angle?”
 

“Kagan thinks the club is vulnerable now. You’ve gone legitimate. He figures he takes you out, the Great Wolves don’t recover. He takes your businesses and has new territory and a nice little squeaky clean front for whatever seedy
bullshit he wants to run through Green Bluff. You’ve got nice real estate here. You know you’re going to have to keep fighting for it.”
 

I whistled low. When I ran off the last of the criminal element attached to the club, I expected something like this. Just not this fast.