Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 84471 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 422(@200wpm)___ 338(@250wpm)___ 282(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84471 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 422(@200wpm)___ 338(@250wpm)___ 282(@300wpm)
“Where the fuck are you going?”
“You can't do this to me!” I wiggle against his grip. If he's just going to blow me up anyway, what do I have to lose?
Except that when he yanks a gun out of his belt and points the barrel right at my temple, I don't have it in me to risk him blowing me away now, as opposed to blowing me up later. As long as I'm alive, there's hope, right?
“Okay, okay. I'll stand still. Please!” This whole time I've been trying not to cry, but it's getting harder and harder to hold it back.
“That's fucking better. Just stand still, and we'll get this over with.” He puts on the belt and starts winding the wires so that they're all connected to the electronic device.
I don't know the first thing about how bombs work, but I have a real bad feeling about this.
35
DRAGON
“Clear!” Skyhigh yells and we take cover behind the next row.
A moment later, there's a dull thump, a cloud of smoke, and the big rolling door to the unit buckles and falls out. Skyhigh knows what the fuck he's doing.
The moment the door falls, I'm rushing forwards, my piece in my hand and aimed into the cloud. I take cover next to the hole left behind by the door and look around the corner, leading with the gun. The slight breeze clears the smoke, leaving us with… nothing.
Motherfucker.
Grimm nods. “This is definitely it. Looks like he’s still using it.” He leans forward to peek inside, but while he's leading us right, as far as I can tell, I don't trust him enough to be the first one in.
“Let's have a look.” I scan the room. It's a box, like any storage unit, with everything up against the walls, leaving a big space in the middle. Room for a car? Yeah, and there's an oil slick on the floor, matching the dead spot on his lawn. It’s still wet.
Skyhigh strides past us to examine the folding table that's pushed up against the back. “Check this out. More C4. He was here. Question is, what the fuck was he doing?”
“And more importantly, where the fuck is he now?” Blackout stands and starts checking the shelves.
Behind the C4 squares, something glints on the table. I pick it up, recognizing the ring I’ve seen Willow wearing. “Hey! This is Willow's. She’s either been here, or he had her at some point.”
The idea of what it might mean that he took a trophy has my hands flexing, itching to choke something. Like his motherfucking throat. I want him to look me in the eyes as I squeeze the life out of him. Adding his weight to my soul would be no fucking hardship whatsoever. If anything, it'd fucking lighten it.
“Question is, where the fuck are they now?” Skyhigh gathers the leftover explosives and stuffs them into his jacket pocket.
Blackout eyes him skeptically. “Man, should you just be stuffing it in like that?”
“It's C4. Takes a lot to set it off, and squeezing it together like that ain't it. Can't just leave that shit lying around after we blew the door off. Imagine some fucking kids finding it.” There are some wires there too, but those he leaves. “Useless without the explosives.”
C4 in one pocket, pretty sure he's got at least one of the grenades from Tanner's garage in the other. “Fuck, remind me not to hit you while we're riding.”
He nods. “Probably a good idea.”
I stick the ring in my pocket. I'm gonna give it back to Willow, and she's gonna take it, and that fucking means that we're gonna rescue her safe and sound. That's my promise to her, and to myself. And if I can’t fulfill it? Blood will flow.
“He should be better about bringing his car in for service,” Skyhigh notes as he eyes the black spot on the asphalt. “Walk me through this. He's got Willow, he's got explosives and he’s got a massive fucking grudge. Am I off base here?”
We’re all already moving towards the bikes.
“We should've just stayed home. He's taking her to the club.”
“But why does he need Willow?” Skyhigh paces. “What's she got to do with any of this?”
“If he saw her at the Diamond Club, he might've decided she was important to us. To lure us out?” Blackout suggests.
“Nah, why would he care about us?”
It's Skyhigh who puts it together. “Motherfucker. Motherfucker! We gotta get back. NOW.”
“What are you thinking?” I catch his shoulder before he gets away from me.
“Who the fuck would stop Willow at the gate? Everyone knows her. She’s fucking harmless.”
My mouth goes bone dry, every muscle in my body twitches. I can't even wrap my head around what he’s suggesting, and I can imagine some pretty brutal shit.
“Happened when I was deployed. A guy who’d worked for us as a translator came into camp, and fuck, he'd been our guy for months. We trusted him. He’d looked terrified but I was dumb enough to dismiss it. We fucking knew him. Didn’t matter that he didn’t want to do it. Someone used him for their own agenda. Found out later they had his whole family. Fuck. Shit was ugly. He got all the way into the fucking cafeteria, and then his jacket fell open, exposing the explosives. He took seven soldiers with him, and I woulda been one of them if I hadn’t been in the right spot.” The pain is plain as fucking day on Skyhigh's face. He tightens his jaw, shakes his head, trying to clear a memory that I hope I never, ever fucking have the likes of.