Page 238 of Savior
I’m about to comment, when a rapid, consistent popping sound resonates somewhere outside of the room, back towards the front of the building where the bar is located.
“What the hell is that?” I ask, walking back into the room with Cherry. “It sounds like someone setting off fireworks in a trash can or something?”
Before either of us can react, the door swings open with a loud crash, and two men enter. They’re both wearing black ski masks.
Cherry takes a breath to let out a scream, when one of the men grabs her, shoving a cloth over her mouth. Her cries are muffled as he easily subdues her, and I can smell the ether-like odor on the rag…
Oh God… that’s chloroform!
The other masked man rushes towards me.
“Please! Don’t!” I manage to choke out, clutching Ace with both arms protectively. “I’m pregnant!” As if they can’t tell.
“I’m not going to hurt you. But you’re coming with us! Now!” a harsh voice whispers from beneath the mask. “Cooperate, and you won’t have to worry about any harm befalling you or your baby.” He grabs my arm, hauling me towards the door as the other man flings Cherry’s now unconscious body, over his shoulder.
“Hurry up! This way!” a third man calls from down the hall near the exit to the back of the lot.
I can’t believe my eyes when I see that this third masked man is wearing a Saviors cut, holding the door open for our kidnappers. Words fail me again as our eyes lock. They look fearful… apologetic… and familiar… But he still raises the black hood, shoving it over my head as my kidnapper drags me through the door to the back lot outside.
The sound of a van door sliding open is right in front of me. My arms are pulled behind my back as I’m quickly zip tied at the wrists and hoisted inside. It’s clear now that the firecracker sound, isn’t firecrackers at all… It’s gun fire...
“Dean!” I scream. “Dean! Dean!”
The van door slams shut, and the tires screech on the pavement as it takes off. I can hear more gun fire. A loud clunking, pinging sound against the van, as someone’s body presses against me, covering me as the van swerves and skids, then takes off again.
Though I can’t see anything, and it’s a little difficult to breathe beneath the dark fabric, I can still smell the faint scent of incense and cigarette smoke…
“Fuck, are you hit?” one of the men asks, as the body on top of me struggles for a moment to get off of me.
A set of hands are frantically roaming over me now, but it isn’t an attack. He’s checking me for injury.
“She ain’t hit. The blood’s mine...” The one nearest me sighs with notable relief. “They don’t know we’ve got them yet. They’d have never shot at us if they knew we had the girls in here.”
“Why are you doing this?” I whimper.
“Because there’s no other way.” Legion growls.
Glass seems to shatter all around me as the rapid fire of gunshots drown out everything else. Liquor bottles explode. Bullets embed in the brick walls. The mirror behind the bar spiderwebs and crashes to the floor behind me. Bullets rip through the leather couches along the walls.
Instinctively we all hit the floor to take cover. Chips of wood from the bar and glass rain down on me from the hail of bullets tearing up the Twisted Throttle, and in this moment, I’m grateful Vanna isn’t anywhere near me. She’s far enough back in the building, in my old club room, where these rounds can’t reach her.
Thirty seconds. The shots cease after only thirty seconds.
I’m eager to rush to Vanna, but the familiar sound of blood-filled lungs gurgling for breath, invades my ears… My heart is pounding in my chest so rapidly from the adrenaline and feeling of dread washing over me, it’s almost painful.
I care about every person in this room… and at least one of them is dying this very moment…
Pushing myself back to my feet, glass cascades off my leather cut as I stand and walk out from behind the bar.
Someone is outside firing shots again. Eight or ten, before that stops, too.
As I round the corner of the bar, I notice the Shirley Temple is still sitting, unscathed, where Vanna had been with me, mere moments ago.
“Fuck! He’s fuckin’ dead, Dean.” Axel’s voice draws my attention to where he’s crouched on the floor, looking up at me. His bloody hands pressed against the bullet hole in Snowy’s chest...
He’s no longer struggling to breathe…
My heart aches, even through the numbness of shock. I’ve known Snowy all my damn life… My gaze roves over Axel. He doesn’t appear to be injured, thank fuck... I couldn’t handle that…
