Page 8 of Saint’s Revenge

"I don't have proof," he continued, voice still quiet, still calm. "Trey didn't actually see you on the phone. But I know you, Riley. I know that look. I know when you've done something you think is right even though you know I'll kill you for it."

I couldn't speak. Couldn't breathe. Just stared at him through tears I couldn't stop. He grabbed me by the hair again and dragged me back inside. I screamed, couldn't help it, the pain too much. He hauled me up the metal stairs to the second floor.

At the top of the stairs, he threw me down. My head cracked against the concrete floor of the landing, and everything went white for a second.

"You're going to stay right here," he said, standing over me. "Right where everyone can see what happens to people who betray me. And if anyone shows up, today, tomorrow, whenever it might be, you're going to watch me put a bullet in their head before I finish you."

He walked away. Left me there at the top of the stairs, bleeding and broken and visible to anyone who looked up from the warehouse floor below.

That was hours ago, and I've been lying here ever since. Drifting in and out of consciousness. Bleeding from my mouth. Ribs screaming every time I try to breathe. Head pounding so hard I can't think straight.

No one's come near me. A few of the Vipers looked up at me during the day, saw me lying here, and looked away. Daniel must have made it clear. I'm dead to them. I'm just waiting for my body to catch up.

I knew this day would come eventually. Knew that staying with Daniel as long as I did would catch up to me. Knew that the moment I decided to call Lucas, I was signing my own death warrant.

I just thought maybe I'd get to see Lucas one more time before it ended.

The warehouse has been quiet most of the day. I can hear the men below: talking, drinking, waiting for orders. Daniel's been in his office down the hall from where I'm lying. That's what he does now when things get bad, disappears for hours, emerges more paranoid than before.

I close my eyes. Try to focus on breathing. In. Out. In. Out.

I told Lucas to come back to me. Told him I couldn't lose both of them in one night. But I've already lost Daniel. Lost him years ago and just didn't want to admit it.

And Lucas... Lucas has been gone for five years. Left without saying goodbye. Left me here with a monster and convinced himself it was the right thing to do.

Maybe it was. Maybe if he'd stayed, he'd be the one lying on this floor instead of me. Maybe leaving saved him.

Doesn't mean it didn't break me.

Then the gunfire starts.

All at once. Everywhere. Like the whole building exploded into violence in the space of a heartbeat.

Doors crash open below: multiple doors, all sides. Men start shouting immediately. Confused, panicked shouting. Not the kind of shouting that comes from people who were ready for a fight. The kind that comes from people who just got ambushed.

My call worked. They're here.

I force my eyes open. From where I'm lying at the top of the stairs, I can see part of the warehouse floor below. Men scrambling for weapons. Figures in leather cuts pouring in through the doors. Not the Vipers' cuts.

Iron Phoenix.

Gunfire erupts in waves. Rapid, controlled bursts mixed with wild spraying. Men screaming. Something heavy crashes to the concrete below. More gunfire.

I need to move.

Need to get somewhere safer, need to hide like Lucas told me to. I put my hands flat on the concrete. Push. My ribs scream. My vision goes white at the edges. I collapse back down, gasping.

Can't move. Can't get up.

I'm going to die here.

The realization should terrify me. Should make me panic. Instead I just feel tired. So fucking tired.

More gunfire. Closer now. I hear boots pounding below. Someone roaring orders. Not Daniel's voice. Someone else. Deep. Commanding. One of the Iron Phoenix, maybe.

Then an explosion. Not a gunshot. Something bigger. The whole building shakes. Dust rains down from somewhere above me. I turn my face away, coughing.

I close my eyes. Try to focus again on breathing. In. Out. In. Out. The gunfire continues. Seems to go on forever. Could be two minutes. Could be ten. Time doesn't work right when you're bleeding out.