Tristan (The Kendall Family #1) (20 page)

When the first shot rang out, Larry nearly shit himself. Rick ducked behind a bush, as if that would stop a bullet. Larry went for a tree. The glowing neon
Closed
sign on a small office building illuminated the pavement beside their motorcycles. Scattered trees on stretches of lawn separated them from adjacent free-standing buildings. Everything but the warehouse appeared deserted, but someone else probably heard that gunshot behind the warehouse. And the return fire that erupted from the three new arrivals hiding behind their Dodge Charger.

Larry asked, “Who are they shooting at?”

“Beats the shit out of me,” muttered Rick, wiping a sweaty hand on his pants. They still wore their helmets in case a fistfight—or worse—broke out, for protection and to hide their identities, as Rick noted.

“You don’t think it’s the cops, do you?”

“Doubt it. We’d see flashing lights.”

“Yeah.”

More shots rang out.

“This might not be the safest place to be,” Rick observed.

“Let’s move closer.”

Rick snorted. “That’s not exactly what I meant.”

“This might be our best chance to get inside. With these guys distracted, we can get in through a side door or something. Maybe Derek and Jane are distracted, too. We can sneak up on them.”

Rick sighed. “I wish that wasn’t a good point.”

Taking that as agreement, Larry motioned for Rick to follow him. They quickly crossed the street, heading through the short grass to the warehouse’s front side. Tall bay doors alternated with normal ones and windows. No signs of life anywhere. Larry peeked into each window before moving past it, trying all the doors without luck.

“They’re probably all locked,” Rick remarked.

“You think?” Larry asked, scowling at him. He saw a partially open window and pushed it farther up with a creak that made him cringe, but he widened the crack enough to stick his head in, even with the helmet.

“Help me up,” he said.

Rick locked his hands for Larry to put a foot into and heaved him up. Larry grabbed the window sill and pulled himself higher. Seeing no one inside and a table under the window, Larry slid through onto it. Then he pulled Rick up, over, and in. For a moment they crouched there, listening quietly. The sound of intermittent gun shots continued outside. Muffled voices sounded closer, inside. With a resigned look, Rick followed Larry off the table and toward the voices, wondering how good a shot Larry was with that gun in one hand.

Chapter 20 – Death

If it hadn’t been for the muffled effect of the gun shot happening outside, Tristan might’ve thought Derek or Jane had finally shot him or Victoria. She stiffened beside him, but the biggest reaction came from the other two, both of whom turned their backs on their captives to look toward the sound.

“Who’s shooting?” Jane asked, eyes wide.

Derek moved toward the window. “I don’t know. Not my guys. Someone must be shooting at them.”

“Probably the cops,” suggested Tristan, hoping to worry them further.

“Cops don’t shoot first,” Derek dismissively remarked.

“Then who?” Jane asked, looking like she wanted to bolt from the room. She moved away from the window, toward the captives.

Tristan whispered to Victoria, “Riley.”

She leaned into him more. “Thank God.”

“Now might be a good time to do something,” Tristan whispered as more shouting erupted outside and made Derek and Jane keep their attention on the window.

Victoria shook her head. “I don’t know, Tristan. I’m afraid to do anything that pushes things.”

He pursed his lips. “Point taken. But be ready if they come closer and a good chance comes up. I want you to just run away, okay?”

“I’m not gonna leave you!”

“Promise me.”

“Tristan, I—”

More gun shots, these much closer, stopped her short. Sporadic gunfire continued to erupt just outside the big bay doors, accompanied by shouting. Then a scream and more shouting. A break in the shooting. Jane went pale and Derek glanced around as if looking for something to take cover behind. Tristan felt grim satisfaction.

“Riley shot one,” he whispered to Victoria.

“Good,” she said.

He chuckled and squeezed her close. “I’m thinking he hit one on purpose now.”

“Why wait?”

“Don’t know, but he’s got them pinned down. Maybe he’s stopping them from coming in here.”

“Do you think he called the cops?”

Knowing his brother, Tristan answered, “Probably. He’d like to take care of it himself, but it’s not exactly legal to shoot people.” He felt her relax. Maybe they could just wait this out and not do anything stupid.

As the gunfire continued, Derek nervously ushered everyone farther into the room, nearer to other doors that happened to offer escape for Tristan and Victoria. Tristan suspected Derek was planning for the possibility that his guys would be killed and the shooter would come inside for him. If so, he might try to use them as hostages, so Tristan vowed that if someone entered, even if that was Riley, they were running for the nearest door.

* * *

The voices had become louder as Rick and Larry neared the room where Tristan and Victoria stood. No other sounds were audible in the otherwise empty warehouse. Only two screams, both from male voices, had sounded so far, both from outside. Sweat trickled down Rick’s back. Guilt crept over him. All of these people were in danger because of him. If he’d had a spine, none of this would’ve happened.

Larry peeked into another room ahead. “Empty. Let’s go.”

Rick sighed and followed. The next room was indeed empty, but the far door stood open and revealed a wall of cardboard boxes in the room beyond. Voices there were loud and clear. This time Rick peered through the next door, seeing nothing but the box wall five feet away and stretching right to left, from the warehouse rear to the front, the direction they’d come from. He and Larry exchanged a look and moved forward, Larry going one way along the boxes, Rick the other, but Rick hadn’t taken two steps when he stumbled into the boxes, which swayed.

“Who’s over there?” a man’s voice yelled. “Get out here now or I start shooting!”

Rick recognized Derek’s voice and turned to Larry, eyes wide. The latter moved back to him, the gun raised apprehensively.

“I’ll go out,” Rick whispered. “You stay here and I’ll distract them so you can do something.”

The voice again yelled, “Get out here
now
!”

Larry whispered, “Be careful.”

Too late for that
, thought Rick, turning away.

“Okay. I’m coming out,” he said, raising his voice. “I’m unarmed.” He went to the far end, letting his feet fall heavily so no one would be surprised enough to shoot him by accident when he came out.

Thoughts of his kids popped into Rick’s head. The extent to which he was a fool dawned on him; he’d put his children in danger via association with him. All those years ago, he should’ve just let Derek’s bosses show the photos of him and Jane to his wife, allow them to ruin his business, permit them to send him to jail. He’d always thought things would work out and only now realized how rapidly they could escalate.

He was walking into a room where murder was intended. And he would witness it and possibly become another victim. He knew Derek’s temper and that the disobedience he’d shown by coming here put his life at risk. Derek had sometimes punched him for amusement or intimidation, without provocation. He’d thought before now that he was indispensable to the stolen bikes operation at CMS, but he could be replaced by a new owner. Just before stepping around the corner, he wondered if Derek was going to put a bullet in his head anyway.

* * *

When Tristan saw the wall of cardboard boxes tremble and Derek’s reaction to an intruder, his heart clenched. Until now, he’d been certain that Riley was outside. But then the voice that answered wasn’t his brother. He still wasn’t expecting Rick to round the corner, still with his helmet on, but Tristan had seen the helmet before. So had Victoria.

“Rick?” Derek asked, less sure of the newcomer’s identity. “What the fuck are you doing here? I told you to stay back at the inn.”

“I know. I just wanted to see if you’d reconsider this whole thing.”

“You should learn to mind your own Goddamn business before you get shot for meddling.”

Rick was close enough to the captives that Derek gestured for him to join them. Rick complied, his eyes darting to Jane, who was closer to him than Derek. She also stood nearest the wall of boxes. He stepped toward her until she pointed the gun at him. He stopped, smiling slightly because he had her full attention, which meant he’d distracted her from the still-hidden Larry.

“Where’s the other guy?” Derek asked, looking around.

“I came alone,” Rick answered.

“Bullshit.”

“I’m serious. He isn’t the sort to get involved with this.”

“Neither are you.”

“True, but this is my fault, not his. I already got these two involved. No sense in getting Larry in it, too.”

“He already is.”

Derek looked about to say more when another gunshot sounded outside. He and Jane looked toward the window. Larry had been discreetly peeking around the corner and now saw his opportunity. He stepped out from behind the wall, his gun pointed at Jane, who stood just feet from him, her back turned to him. Seeing his chance, Tristan moved toward Derek, but Jane pointed her gun at him.

“Don’t move,” she said, causing Derek to turn back. Tristan stopped.

“Drop it,” said Larry.

Jane turned her head, eyes wide. Then a calculated smirk appeared as she noted Larry’s shaking hand. Tristan realized her intent first.

“No!” he shouted.

Too fast for Larry to react, Jane whirled and pulled the trigger. The deafening shot echoed around the hollow room. Startled, Larry froze as the bullet tore through his chest. A moment of stunned silence followed, all eyes on Larry, who pulled a bloody hand from the wound. He looked Jane in the eye. His gaze intensified as if with anger or determination. The hand with the gun stopped shaking. Seeing this, Jane pulled the trigger again even as Larry did the same.

And then pandemonium erupted.

Tristan leapt at Derek, who turned in surprise but didn’t get a shot off as a fist clobbered his jaw. He flew back into the garage door. Tristan was on him in an instant, heart pounding with determination and fear that failure would mean Victoria’s life. With eyes on fire, he rained blows down on Derek, who inadvertently dropped the gun before shoving Tristan back. A flurry of punches went back and forth.

Across the room, Larry had fallen to the floor, his gun clattering beside a limp hand. He never knew if his bullet struck.

To Jane, who felt a pain growing in her side, it suddenly seemed that everyone was moving. Rick and Victoria ran toward her, but she was paralyzed by shock and indecision for too long.

Victoria knew Tristan wanted her to run away, but they were together, facing death as one. The moment he leapt at Derek, fear and adrenaline filled her heart and propelled her into battle beside him. Jane wouldn’t turn in time to shoot, she saw. And the fear Victoria saw in Jane’s eyes emboldened her. The gun arm began to swivel around, but Victoria slapped Jane’s wrist and sent the gun flying, scratching Jane’s face with her other hand. As an awkward fist flew toward her face, Victoria tried to dodge but was lightly struck on the cheek. Fury ripped through her and she punched Jane in the face, then again in the stomach, causing a scream that seemed excessive as Jane doubled over. Victoria jammed her elbow into Jane’s spine, knocking the other woman to the floor. Satisfied, Victoria snatched up Jane’s gun.

“Don’t move!”

Rick reached Larry’s side and knelt, fumbling for Larry’s gun. Larry’s pale face and the amount of blood pooling on the cement floor shocked him.

Across the room, Tristan punched Derek in the mouth, sending a tooth and a spray of blood flying. A swing at him met his upraised arm, exposing Derek to a fist in the stomach, doubling him over. Derek stomped down on Tristan’s toes and he grimaced. The pain caused a moment of recoil that Derek capitalized on, punching Tristan’s jaw. The shock rattled Tristan’s skull but caused fury to rip through him. He swung with all his might but Derek intercepted the swing and punched him in the chest, knocking him back. Derek advanced only to be kicked in the shin, then hit in the chest. That blow opened him up. And this time the round-house swing Tristan unleashed connected with Derek’s nose, breaking it and flinging him back into the garage door, where he whacked the back of his head with a bang. He slid to the floor and looked up through hazy eyes.

Lungs heaving, Tristan snatched the gun and pointed it at Derek from a safe distance. Then his eyes sought Victoria’s. She stood with a gun leveled at Jane, who sat on the floor. Victoria bore a light mark on one cheek and her hair was mussed, but she look hotter than hell, a fire burning in her eyes. He flashed her a quick smile and she returned a dazzling one.

In the sudden stillness, Tristan realized that the shooting outside had stopped. Calm voices were audible beyond the door. He thought that the one speaking sternly sounded like his brother.

Tristan called out, “Riley, is that you out there?”

“Yeah, buddy,” came the familiar voice, and relief washed over Tristan. Riley asked, “Everything alright in there?”

“Yeah. What about you?”

“I’m fine. What’s the situation?”

Tristan answered, “We’ve got them covered. Victoria and I have the guns. Larry is hurt bad.”

Riley said, “Okay. The three guys out here are alive but wounded.”

“I’ll have Rick call an ambulance.”

“I hear sirens. Cops are almost here.”

“Thank God,” said Victoria, letting out a big breath.

Hearing her relief, Tristan decided to secure the situation more. He commanded Jane and Derek, “Over there, on the floor, face down, hands behind your heads.” They slowly complied. Tristan and Victoria put their other arms around each other and snuggled close, guns still trained on their former captives. Something about that amused Tristan.