Courageous (Rock Bottom #3) Page 12

  “There!” I cry, pointing the ambush out to the others. “That’s them!”

  “Time for us to go in,” Ryker decides. Rook grunts in agreement.

  “Stay here,” Stone demands, eyes hard on mine. “You hear me? I’ll come get you once we know the area’s secure.”

  I don’t nod, because I don’t have any intentions of staying behind. The men are only gone a handful of seconds before I dart after them. I hear Sasha yelling behind me to wait, but I continue running, and eventually hear her shoes beating the pavement in sync with mine. My father’s men hold guns on Harley, Colt, and Ranger, forcing them down to their knees. The Inferno Glory club members invade from all directions, shouting at the Martyrs to lower their guns. I stop a safe distance away beside Stone, watching as my father and Bane begin to sneak away, headed for the cargo truck several yards away.

  In the midst of everything, my father’s gaze lands on mine. A weird sensation like vertigo rips through my brain, forcing me to grab onto Stone to keep upright. My father spins away, intending to run.

  Heart thumping, I swipe the gun tucked into the back of Stone’s jeans and grip it in my hands, pointing it at my father’s back. “Stop,” I call out to him, “or so help me, I’ll shoot you in the head!”

  He whirls around and snarls in Stone’s direction, reminding me of the vicious dogs that once took up residence on the compound when I was little. “Should’a known you’d be with her. I’ve heard all about you and your despicable bandmates. You just gonna stand there and watch her murder me in cold blood?”

  “Sounds like you had it comin’ to you,” Stone replies. “If she doesn’t shoot you, chances are good that I will.”

  My father responds with a harsh laugh. “Did she tell you why I kept her locked up all those years?”

  “Yeah, ’cause you’re a fucking monster,” Stone quips, lurking beside me. From the vibration his body's omitting, I get the feeling he’s torn between tackling me to the ground, and helping me pull the trigger. “What kind of man gives his only daughter away to be raped for years by a savage asshole?”

  “You wanna talk savage, son?” My father’s hateful stare drags over toward the only man I’ve ever loved. “Did you ask ‘your girl’ what was going through her head when she stood by and watched her momma and baby brother burn to death? Did you ask why she didn’t call the police, or run for help…because if you ask me, I’m willing to bet she started that fire on her own. Maybe then you’ll understand the true definition of savage.”

  “I was just a kid!” I snap back at him. “And we both know she never wanted anything to do with Oliver! You forced her to raise another woman’s child! I did what I could to protect him, but I was a kid myself, and could only do so much! It was your responsibility to make sure your wife kept your kids safe, and you failed us both!”

  With a shake of his head, he gives me the kind of look that leaves no doubt in my mind that he’d kill me if he had a chance. “She made a mistake! Didn’t mean she deserved to die!”

  “A mistake? She killed your son! She let Oliver drown!” I roar, starting for him with a violent tremor running through my body. As unwanted flashes of finding my baby brother facedown in that tub come back to me, I nearly lose my footing. “She was so wasted that she blacked out while giving him a bath! And it was her fault for starting that fire! She’s the one who lit a cigarette before passing out! I merely let fate do its job!”

  When a sob rips through my throat, I’m pulled back against Stone as he reclaims his gun from my hands. I turn to wrap my arms around him a second before I hear a metallic click.

  One of Stone’s bear-like hands grips my head in a possessive, comforting manner. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t put a bullet in your skull for all you’ve done to your daughter.”

  The next few minutes pass in a cloud of confusion. A deep voice orders through a megaphone, “FBI! Drop your weapon!” and the parking lot fills with men and women in navy jackets and bullet-proof vests. Police cars with lights flashing come tearing into the lot, blocking anyone from leaving the area. Stone tosses the gun aside before we’re forced down to lay on our stomachs beside each other on the pavement. Our hands are quickly cuffed behind our backs. I wince with the pressure it places on my bad arm.

  My guts churn once my brain catches up with what’s happening.

  Someone called the cops.

  Will they have enough to lock my father away for life?

  Stone’s beautiful eyes don’t leave mine. “It’s over, lil’ mouse,” he promises. “He won’t be able to hurt you anymore.”

  “Those two aren’t a part of this,” Colt’s suddenly saying behind us.

  “Doesn’t matter,” a gruff man’s voice answers. “Either way, they’ll have to come in for questioning.”

  I glance over my shoulder to watch Colt’s expression darken. “No reason to fuckin’ cuff ‘em. They’ll go in willingly.” He doesn’t waiver until the middle-aged man unlocks the handcuffs binding my wrists. Then he nudges the man aside, and helps me to stand. “You all right, darlin’?”

  “What’s going on?” I ask, watching in shock as FBI agents lead my father and Bane away in handcuffs.

  With a sheepish grin, Colt shrugs. “I have connections in the ATF. They were offerin’ a reward to anyone who could help bring Terrance Fisher down once and for all. Having somethin’ legit to pin on your father was an added bonus.”

  My breath draws tight. “You knew he’s my father?”

  He nods gravely. “This whole thing was a set-up. Once y’all intervened, we had to do whatever necessary to protect you.”

  Stone’s suddenly beside me again, wrapping me in his arms. “How long will they put them away?”

  A dark-haired agent joins us. He’s intimidating in size, but the easygoing smirk he gives me matches the kindness reflected in his gaze when he speaks to me. “Your father and the Martyrs are looking at a minimum of ten years just for carrying unlicensed firearms. By the time they add on conspiracy and other charges, they’ll be lucky if they’re put away for less than thirty. As for Terrance Fisher…he’s a suspect in crimes going back decades. We’ve been eager to get our hands on him for some time now. I’m confident he’ll be in for life.”

  Rook throws Ryker a wide-eyed smirk, but doubt radiates from Ryker’s tight-lipped frown.

  All at once there’s an uproar of shouting and activity behind the police cars. Terrance starts in our direction with his arm around a female agent’s neck, handcuffs dangling from one wrist. With his other hand, he holds a gun to the petite woman’s head.

  “Step back or this bitch dies!” Terrance roars. Face turning a dark shade of red, he scowls at everyone watching. “I won’t let you take me in! I don’t belong in prison! I won’t make it twenty-four hours before someone will place a hit on me!”

  “Put the weapon down,” the agent beside us tells him in an authoritative, yet calm tone. A set of agents move in closer to Terrance on two separate sides. “You’re outnumbered, Fisher. You won’t get out of this situation alive unless you give yourself up right now. Do you understand? If you fight, you will die.”

  A distinct click of a bullet being placed in its chamber sounds off to our left before Sasha comes into view. Pistol firmly braced in both her hands, she starts toward Fisher. I’ve never seen her expression filled with so much hatred and determination. “You’re right. You don’t belong in prison. That’s too easy of a way out for a monster like you. After what you did to my brother and who knows how many other victims, you deserve to bleed out like a stuck pig. You’re an evil, vile man.”

  “Sasha, don’t do this,” I plead, intending to step toward her.

  Stone reels me back in against him, whispering, “Let the cops handle it.”

  “Put the gun down, Sash,” Rook calls to her. “Trask wouldn’t want you going to jail over this piece of shit.”

  “Sniper One, on my mark,” I hear the dark-haired agent with kind eyes whisper behind us. His command
is met with the crackling of a radio and a murmured response. He then inserts himself in the fifty feet between Sasha and Terrance. “Everyone needs to calm down. No one’s dying today. We’ll let the justice system sort this one out.” He turns to Terrance. “What do you say? Ready to give yourself up before this young woman makes the decision on your behalf?”

  The agent holds both his hands up, and a loud crack splits through the air. Terrance’s body jerks. A second later he collapses to the pavement. Blood seeps from the hole in his forehead. His lifeless eyes remain open. One of the women yells with a sound of shock and relief.

  The female agent kicks the gun from Terrance’s hand before bending to make sure the bastard’s really dead. Meanwhile, someone has taken the gun from Sasha, and Rook races forward to embrace her before she falls.

  Admittedly, I’m jealous the man who did Stone and his crew wrong is dead. I wish someone had taken my father and Diesel out, too. With that thought, I suddenly realize I haven’t spotted Diesel in the mix.

  Sasha violently shakes in Rook’s arms, muttering, “It’s finally over.”

  The agent with kind eyes moves to their side. “That was pretty brave of you, young lady. You showed more balls than some of the men under my command. Are you alright?”

  When Sasha nods, the man joins the agents now squatting above Terrance’s corpse.

  “He’s right, you know,” Rook says to Sasha, slinging his arm around her neck, and kissing the top of her head. “Your stubborn ass should consider becoming a cop. The way you infiltrated the Martyrs and went after Terrance…you’re meant for that line of work.”

  “Fuck that,” Stone says. “She’s meant for bigger things. You should go to college, Sash. Work your way up to becoming a detective.”

  Pinching her lips for a moment, she shakes her head. “Great idea, Stone. How the hell would I pay for that?”

  “We’ll take care of it,” Ryker promises. “We owe you that. We all know if Trask was still alive, he’d bust his ass to see you earn a degree. Only seems fair you should get his portion of the band’s proceeds anyway. Without Trask, we would’ve broken up years before he died. He believed in us more than anyone.”

  “Everyone okay?” Colt asks, breaching our circle.

  “We’re good,” Rook answers, kissing the top of Sasha’s head one more time. “We’re all good.”

  As we’re led to a squad car by an officer, I clutch Stone’s arm. “Have you seen Diesel?”

  “No,” he growls out, pulling me tight against him. “That coward probably hightailed it back home. You’re safe, baby. It’s over.”

  He doesn’t know Diesel the way I do. This won’t end until one of us is dead.

  13

  Stone

  Andie hasn’t slept for shit since the sting went down. I know this for a fact because I’ve been keeping watch at her side, cocked and locked. Eventually it’s gonna catch up to us and we’re gonna be off our game, making Andie an easy target. Guessing that’s why Ryker insisted we stay at his place once we return home—at least until we can locate Diesel. Colt let us know the coward had skipped out on his first hearing after being released, and they issued a warrant out for his ass in California. That shit doesn’t sit right with me. He’s gone completely rogue. No telling what he’ll do next.

  Still takes a lot of prodding to convince Sasha that she’s meant for bigger things, but she finally fills out a few applications for colleges in the area that offer a degree in criminal justice. She’s not the same since Terrance died, and the women have been working overtime trying to bring her back to life. Truth is, every last one of us would’ve let her execute the bastard if we hadn’t been surrounded by feds.

  A few days after we’ve settled in at Ryker’s, I find Andie all alone at the kitchen island early morning, hunched over my laptop. Sucks knowing she virtually has nothing after leaving the compound. I need to convince Zoe to take her shopping again, this time getting a helluva lot more than clothing. This “in limbo” bullshit is getting old. Time to settle in a place of our own, and start planning ahead.

  “What’re you doin’, gorgeous?” I ask, bending to kiss the top of her head.

  She glances up at me while taking a sip of coffee. “Looking for a job. But I don’t know who’s gonna hire someone my age with no prior work experience.”

  Sitting beside her, I grunt when seeing she’s opened an account on LinkedIn. “Already told you…no need for that.”

  Her sexy lips pucker as she meets my scowl. “I’m not gonna sit around on my ass while you make all the money for both of us. Especially after being locked up all those years. I want to get out there…contribute same as you. I’m not going to be a kept woman ever again.”

  Knowing her stubborn ass won’t budge, I wrap my arm around her shoulders and run my lips across her temple. It’s only been a few hours since I was last buried inside of her, but my dick’s already begging to do it again. “How ‘bout you wait until we get settled into a new place? Then you’ll at least know what you’re looking at for a commute. And I’ll talk to Rook—maybe they have something for you at the women’s shelter so you can at least put something on your resume. But you’re not going anywhere alone until we know what Diesel’s up to.”

  With a quiet little huff, she leans against my chest. “I hate that our lives are on hold because of him. We need to find a way to draw him out.”

  Right when I’m about to shut her idea down, Charlize strolls into the kitchen. Her big brown eyes flash to Andie and she smiles before turning to me. “Ryker’s looking for you. The guys are gearing up for this weekend’s show in Des Moines.”

  Christ. With everything going down the way it has, I’d completely spaced on the next half of our tour. The timing couldn’t be any worse. We haven’t practiced much in the last few weeks, and I’m sure as hell not going to leave Andie alone. How the hell do the guys expect me to play worth a shit with everything up in the air?

  “It’ll have to be postponed,” I tell her.

  Andie pulls away, shaking her head. “Oh no. You’re not rescheduling the tour because of me, Camden Stone. I’ll sit on that damn stage at your side and shake a tambourine if that’s what it takes to ease your mind.”

  The visual of her perfect ass shaking beside me is hotter than hell, but I’m not gonna let her parade around in public until Diesel’s no longer a threat. “We’ll talk about this later.”

  “We both know I won’t change my mind.” She turns to plant a soft, lingering kiss on my lips before hopping down from the island stool. “So get your hot ass in the studio.”

  Charlize giggles when I stumble from the room. Can’t help worrying Andie’s already conspiring ways to pull Diesel in. Just means I better start planning something to beat her to the punch.

  No one gives me a hard time when I keep fucking up with the wrong chords, but I can see the frustration written all over their faces by the third song. My focus is shit.

  “Let’s take a break,” Ryker announces.

  Morrison drops his sticks on the drum kit. “I’m goin’ out for a smoke.”

  Bender trails after him, leaving me with Ryker and Rook.

  “I get it, man,” Rook says, setting his bass on its stand. “We’re all worried that asshole is gonna come outta nowhere and hurt the girls.”

  “Andie wants to smoke ‘im out,” I tell them. “I need to get one step ahead of her before she sneaks off and does something on her own. Never met a woman that damn determined.”

  Ryker eyes me while crossing his arms. “You two could stage a fight somewhere public. You know that bastard’s watching, and he seems delusional enough to think he might still get her back. If he saw her somewhere alone—”

  “Not a fuckin’ option,” I sneer back at him.

  “What if we sent the girls out alone?” Rook suggests. “Every single one of them is a good shot. I certainly wouldn’t wanna fuck with Brooke or Zoe. Doubt he’d be expecting that.”

  Ryker nods along with him. “Mig
ht not be a bad idea.”

  My blood heats beneath my skin. “You fools wanna send our women off to war with a biker? Do I seriously have to remind you jack-asses what happened the last time that happened?”

  “We’ll do it,” Zoe’s voice cuts in from the doorway.

  I look up to find her lined up beside Brooke, Andie, Charlize, and Raven. The women all appear hellbent on getting their way based on their scowls and juts of their chins as they wait for one of us to defy them.

  When I open my mouth, Zoe cuts me off with a hard stare. “Brooke and I could set something up at Pinky’s…pretend we’re getting ready to dance for a private event. He already knows we’re dancers, and it would really set him off to see Andie joining us. You guys can hide out behind the stage in case something goes wrong. Matt owes me a few favors. As long as no one else is there to get hurt, he’d let me have the place for a few hours before opening. I know the layout of the building like the back of my hand. It’d be the perfect place to set a trap for the police.”

  “She’s right,” Ryker agrees, glancing my way. “If you’re going to do something about this guy once and for all, there’s no better location. Once we have him locked in, we’ll call the cops and have him arrested for skipping out on bail.”

  Though a part of me agrees the plan shows promise, the more revengeful side simmering in my gut is confident the police will be too late once I have him all to myself.

  One glaringly obvious flaw to Zoe’s plan was the fact that if they were mostly naked, there’d be nowhere to stash their guns. Thank fuck we convinced them to “practice for the event” in gym shorts and tank tops, because I would’ve lost my shit knowing Andie was giving Diesel one last free look of something he’ll never touch again.