Vigilante 01 - Who Knows the Storm (24 page)

BOOK: Vigilante 01 - Who Knows the Storm
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“Rachel has a gun, in her desk drawer,” Cade said, jogging to keep up with Nox’s huge strides. “If you walk in there blazing away….”

“Call her. Tell her to meet us somewhere in the building. Somewhere private.”

Cade swallowed as he pulled out his phone. He pressed the little icon for her name and waited for her to pick up.

“Goddammit, Cade,” Rachel swore through the phone. “What the fuck is wrong with you? I told you to stay hidden.”

“We—I did,” Cade said, not looking at Nox as they reached the fifth floor landing. “Listen, I’m here at the Iron Butterfly. I need to see you.”

Rachel let loose a string of profanities and spitting anger. “Why don’t you listen to me? You can’t be here,” she implored. “I’m trying to save your life.”

“I need to see you,” he said again. “Please, Rachel.”

“No. You turn around and leave right now.”

“I can’t,” Cade said, stopping to lean against the wall. Nox continued up two steps, then stopped and turned around. “Rachel, Sam’s missing. I was hiding him in the printing place and we were out and then—”

Nox’s glare should have set Cade on fire. He could literally feel the flames on his face.

Staring at the gray-painted floor, Cade waited for Rachel to say something. Anything.

“Where are you?” she said finally, her voice low and cold.

“Fifth floor. The right stairwell.”

“Don’t move.”

She disconnected. Cade looked up at Nox and shook his head.

“I’m sorry.”

“She’s the one who told you about the printing place,” Nox said, his voice lethal.

“It was a place for me. No one cares about where I am. I thought it would be safe,” Cade murmured, staring down at his feet.

The silence was broken by the door above them opening. They both looked up and Cade heard the click-clack of Rachel’s shoes.

She came into view dressed in jeans and a sweater, her hair piled on top of her head. She looked anything but glamorous.

And she had a Beretta in her hand.

“He’s here,” she said, coming down the stairs slowly. Cade saw Nox tighten his hand on the gun, saw Rachel do the same. “They grabbed him, brought him here.”

“Who?” Nox spit out.

Rachel shook her head. “I don’t know them. They showed up about six hours ago and Zed’s been freaking out. He told Damian to start erasing files in the office. He told me….” She looked at Cade, a tiny smirk on her lips. “He told me to pack my bags, as I’ve been fired. For my own good, apparently.”

Cade climbed the stairs toward her, skirting around the ice sculpture that was Nox. “Where are they keeping him? Do you know?”

“No. Damian is the one who told me they had a teenager with them—tied up and scared shitless. I was hoping I was wrong.” She glanced at Nox, who sneered in return.

“You’re behind this….”

“Stop trying to pin every goddamn thing on me, Nox,” Rachel snapped. “While I’m flattered you think I’m able to control a fucking drug empire, it doesn’t work like that.”

Nox stepped up closer to her, the gun unflinchingly pointed at her chest. “You sent those messages to Mr. White. The money.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Rachel turned and ran up a few steps, Nox at her heels.

“You were behind the letters to Sam,” Nox insisted.

Rachel grabbed for the door handle with her free hand. “You’re as crazy as that old piece of shit. I’m not his boss, Nox. I’m nobody’s boss.”

The clang of a door opening many floors above them echoed through the stairwell. “Find Sam and get the fuck out of here—as far away as you can. They aren’t waiting anymore.”

Nox grabbed for her arm, but the sounds of voices descending from above reached them, and Rachel used the momentary distraction to open the door. She darted out before Nox could stop her.

He moved like he was going to chase her, but Cade took a handful of his shirt and tugged. “Leave her—we have to find Sam.”

Cade’s best guess as to where Sam was, was far away from where any of the guests or staff could trip over a tied-up teenager.

Zed’s private suites were his first guess, a place that set his stomach churning. The security level there—even with the pass, it would be hard to get in.

“This is—it doesn’t make sense,” Cade whispered as Nox led the way up the stairs. “Why bring Sam here? The place is crawling with VIPs. They’re at capacity for the Anniversary Weekend.” They reached the staff floor; Cade hurried past Nox to use the pass. “Security is beefed up because of all the damn bomb threats.”

He had just pushed open the door slightly when Nox grabbed the back of his jacket.

“What?” Cade turned around to find Nox had gone white, his face stark with terror. “What?”

“Get us here,” he murmured. “Get us here on a weekend when the place is packed—everyone is here. The full staff, all the talent, the highest rollers… all those threats without any ransom demands.”

It hit Cade between the eyes. “They’re gonna blow the place. Holy Jesus.”

 

 

C
ADE
LED
Nox through the talent locker room; everyone was on the floor at this late hour. Down the hall in Killian’s workshop, a light was on.

“Wait, wait. I have to….” Cade left Nox’s side, running toward his friend with a warning on his lips.

He ignored Nox’s sharp whispers behind him—he wasn’t going to let anyone die here if he could help it.

At the doorway, Cade heard faint music from the back room. “Killian?” he whispered loudly. “Are you in here?”

Killian popped his head out from behind a rack of suits. “Cade!” Surprise was written all over his face. “I thought you got fired.”

“You need to get out of here, right now.”

“What?” Killian halted his approach, his face reflecting wariness.

“I think something’s going to happen tonight, and you need to get somewhere safe, please.”

Killian stepped back and Cade could see him reaching for the silent alarm. “Cade, we’re friends. And I know you mean well….”

“Just please—please get out,” Cade begged.

Nox ran by in a blur of black leather, and he knew he had to follow. “Get out before it’s too late.”

 

 

“I
HEARD
static from walkie-talkies,” Nox said when Cade caught up to him.

“Security doesn’t use those here.”

“That’s what I thought.”

Their conversation halted as they crept around the corner. Down the hallway, near the main elevators, two men stood in security uniforms, each with a walkie-talkie on his belt.

They were watching the descending numbers on the electronic crawl above. The doors dinged open and two more men walked out, each carrying a semiautomatic. They all took off down the far hall without exchanging a word.

Nox waited a second, then bolted down the corridor to follow.

The parade of fake security men ducked into the employee lounge. Voices reached Nox and Cade where they hid behind the last corner. The voices got louder until it was clear a fight had broken out. A second later, Zed stormed out in all his ferocious glory. Blood dripped from the corner of his mouth, his suit askew. He disappeared into the stairwell door and slammed the heavy metal behind him.

“Where is he going?” Nox whispered.

“Probably his private suites. If he takes those stairs up two flights, he comes out right by the entrance.”

Nox nodded, then began to creep down the hall toward the employee lounge, one hand directing Cade to remain where he was.

Cade didn’t like that, not at all. His heart pounded—he wanted to press the fire alarm, get people out of the building before the bomb went off. But he knew that would probably sacrifice Sam’s life, and he couldn’t do that. He just—

A hand slapped over his mouth and yanked him back with full force.

He went flying against the back wall, hit it with a thump, and sprawled onto the floor. His breath knocked out of him, he looked up to find Billy standing over him, both hands knotted into fists.

“You’re not allowed to be here, Mr. Creel,” he said.

“Just stopping by to get a few things,” Cade rasped, pushing up on his elbows. “Rachel said I could.”

Billy smirked. “I very much doubt that.”

Chapter Forty-four

 

N
OX
SLIPPED
past the doors to the employee lounge, hoping to get an estimate of how many men he was dealing with. He had one gun and reserves of ammo, but once the semis started going off, all hell was going to break loose.

He needed to know where Sam was.

The stairwell door rattled. Nox lifted his gun as it pushed open.

Rachel again.

He kept the gun trained on her forehead, jaw clenched.

Upstairs
, she whispered.
I found him.
Monarch Suite. That’s where Sam is.

Nox blinked in surprise. She gestured past her as if urging him on. He took a cautious step, refusing to trust her completely.

She looked past him, a question in her eyes.

Cade.

The choice froze him for a moment.

Rachel gestured again toward the stairs, then stepped past him.

Good luck
, she mouthed before disappearing around the corner.

It made him sick, but he let her go to Cade while he ran up the stairs toward his son.

Nox knew the way well enough. The irony of Sam being held where he and Cade first… almost…. It fucked with his head as he raced up the stairs. When he came to the door, he had time for a deep breath and then into the breach.

The floor was very purposely empty; he could tell by the absolute and unnatural silence. It was a trap, clearly—he’d always known that. Sam was the bait he could never walk away from.

Not for Cade. Not for anything.

Down the hall sat the Monarch Room, the door slightly ajar.

Nox pulled the hood up over his head, then lifted the Sig, leading with it as he walked toward the room. Calm sank down to his bones. He would save Sam or they would go out together.

He thought of Cade’s fierce anger and devotion, felt a pang of regret.

Sorry
.

Chapter Forty-five

 

B
ILLY
DRAGGED
Cade down the hall on his ass, his meaty hand wrapped around Cade’s neck. Cade struggled, choking as his windpipe was crushed under the abuse. When the edges of his sight began to fade, Billy tossed him against another wall.

Spots danced in front of his eyes.

“Mr. Z?” Billy was yelling for their boss. Cade shook his head until his sight cleared.

Zed’s private quarters.

“Mr. Z?”

Cade pushed himself up onto all fours, then stood, panting and trying to keep his wits about him. He was close to the front door. Billy had disappeared down the long hall to Zed’s bedroom. Maybe he had a few minutes….

No, no time at all. Because Billy came lumbering back, a look of shock on his face. It took him a second to register Cade was standing—and then he charged.

Billy might be built like a fucking wrestler, but Cade had an older brother. He knew how to dodge low and to the side, moving outside of the security guard’s wide reach. He ran around the semicircle arrangement of couches, staying low, then dashed down the hallway.

There was a back entrance for the cleaning staff. If he could just get there….

He went flying suddenly, his feet caught up on something on the floor.

Scrambling to his feet, Cade turned.

Zed lay sprawled on the rug, a pool of blood seeping out from underneath him. Half his face was gone.

“Fuck.” Cade didn’t waste any time. He turned and ran, aware that Billy was on his tail, aware that his boss was dead and unknown horrors awaited him around the corner.

The darkness didn’t impede him—Cade knew this suite all too well from those nights when Zed liked to sample his way through the staff. And bless Zed’s paranoia for the hidden door—and the gossips who knew it was there. He ducked into the bedroom, listening as Billy thundered in pursuit. Around the bed, through the bathroom, into the walk-in closet. He was so close, his hand on the knob that would take him into the back stairwell—

—when Billy grabbed the back of his sweater and yanked.

Cade didn’t go down. He slammed back into Billy’s massive bulk, twisting before Billy could get a grip. He fought for his life, crashing his head back in an estimation of where Billy’s nose might be.

He saw stars as the back of his head connected with Billy’s face. The grunt of pain told him he’d hit the right spot. Then he dropped to the floor, using his full weight to force Billy to let go of him. Cade scrambled for the door again, and again his fingers closed on the knob.

Cade felt Billy coming, the displaced air warning him of the impact. He went to his knees, reaching blindly into the dark recess of the closet. His hand closed around—something—an umbrella, he realized. He scooted to the side, catching Billy’s weight against his hip. With all his might, Cade slammed the umbrella into whatever part of Billy was closest, twice in rapid succession. Momentarily stunned, Billy rolled off Cade.

Cade didn’t calculate the move or plan anything. He jumped to his feet and brought the umbrella down on Billy’s body. He went into a zone of furious fear, whacking the metal and nylon again and again until Billy made no move to defend himself.

Panting, Cade stopped, umbrella raised over his head for another blow if necessary.

Nothing.

Not even a wheeze.

“Oh shit,” Cade choked out. He dropped his makeshift weapon, breathing heavily. He tried to skirt around Billy’s body, but his size made it impossible; they were crammed into the narrow opening, the door blocked.

Cade took a breath and reached down, grabbed Billy’s shirt, and pulled.

It took him forever, but he got the man far enough away to open the door. He tried to pretend Billy wasn’t dead, but his hands came away from his shirt wet and tacky, and he knew.

He’d killed him.

Bloody and shaking, Cade got into the stairwell. He leaned against the wall and shook, rubbing his hands against his jeans, trying to get the evidence off of them.
Self-defense
, he thought.
I killed him in self-defense.

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