Beautiful Storm (38 page)

No recognition of my lies flickers on her face and I may as well have just slapped her with the way she shrinks away from me. But I catch sight of it; the golden flecks flare in the grey and I know what she’s going to do before she even makes a move. I stand my ground and brace myself for the impact, as she steps forward and strikes me hard across the face.

“You’re a worthless bastard,” she snarls. Turning her attention to Archie, she screams at him, “Why? Why would you do this?”

The smug bastard smirks. “Because, Elizabeth… You took one son from me; you aren’t destroying the other one.”

Lizzie falters and stares at me, her gaze flicking back to Archie like she can see something I can’t.

“What the fuck is going on?” He’s trying to mess with my head.

“Elizabeth was my son’s partner. Has she ever told you about Mac?”

“I’m fucking her, hard, just how she likes it. She’s doesn’t get to tell me her life story.” The lies continue to fall from my lips while my brain tries to piece together all the jumbled parts.

Lizzie turns, her face wild with rage, and charges me. Her small frame’s no match for my larger one. Her fists pummel into my chest but have no impact. I clasp her against me to stop her arms from flailing, and soak in the last time I’ll have her body against mine.

“Will somebody get this crazy bitch out of here?” My yell echoes around the hangar as her sobs reverberate against my chest. Every part of me is at its limits. I’ve no idea how much longer I can maintain this false front; it cracks and crumbles with each tear falling from Lizzie’s eyes. The angel in my arms needs to be out of here before this whole thing shatters her. She’s the strongest woman I’ve ever come across, but if I’m near my breaking point, she’ll soon be over the edge.

Jase pulls her from my arms, and my whole body protests at her loss. Something passes over his face as she struggles in his hold.

“Alex?” Lizzie cries. She stops fighting and stands stock-still. I turn to see who she’s talking to and come face to face with Zander. His expression says the usual ‘couldn’t give a fuck’ when he glances at me, but it fades a little as his gaze falls on Lizzie.

The world rocks beneath my feet. Zander is Alex? Lizzie’s Alex. The one she’s always mentioning. Bear’s cousin, Zander, is fucking ‘Alex’? He’s been with her all this time?

He walks over and takes Lizzie from Jase. She barrages him with questions but instead of answering them he spins her so her back is to his front and clamps his hand down over her mouth. Her wide eyes find mine and new tears spill over onto her cheeks. My internal battle of wanting to kill the bastard but being unable to subsides when she clenches her jaw. From the look on Zander’s face, she made pretty good contact with her teeth into his hand. Good girl.

He leans forward and whispers something in her ear. She stiffens and nods her head. I try and communicate to her that it’ll work out. She’ll be okay. Me, I can’t vouch for. But I’ll do anything I can to make sure she’s set free.

Everything’s fucked up. I’m so confused my head’s spinning, but I resist the urge to turn and watch when they usher her away. Instead I force myself to listen to the soul-destroying whimpers as they fade out, and pray she doesn’t give up.

Cold on the outside, but burning up with rage on the inside, I gather my senses. “So, say again, why did you want me here?”

“Two reasons. I have a problem; one you are familiar with. Alberto Zaffino. You remember him? He remembers you…”

I nod my head, as the feeling of iced water trickles down my spine.

“Well, I’ve been doing some business with him. The Dogs have been doing some of his… dirty work, shall we say? It’s been good but now he wants more from me, which is interesting news, but as proof of my allegiance he wants… you.” His gaze pins me as I roll my neck to ease the tension in it. “So, this leads to my second reason.” A cocky smirk crosses his face. “Imagine my surprise when I looked into you, delved into your past, and discovered you are my son.”

His last word sinks in and my world, which was already shattered, obliterates into thin air.

T
HIS CAN’T BE
fucking happening. I can’t be related to those two men.

“You lying motherfucker.” I laugh, trying to play it off, but my façade slips south. I’m clawing to hold onto it, grasping with every muscle.

“Your mother was very willing. Looks like we have similar taste in women.”

“My
birth
mother was a teenage girl who’d been stupid enough to get involved with a married man, by all accounts. A father isn’t even named on my birth certificate. So, tell me,
Archie,
are you the sick fuck who knocked up a teenager then didn’t have the balls to deal with the consequences?” I tilt my head and examine him. His nostrils flare. It’s obvious my questions are getting to the bastard.

But then, a sneer crosses his face. “No. She told me she was aborting you.”

Un-fucking-believable.

“Funny.” But I’m not laughing. “I must be a hard fucker to get rid of then.” I glare at him, and he squirms a little. “So, Daddy Dearest, tell me what you’re wasting my time for? Give me something to make me stay. Because the way I see it, apart from some twisted revenge on your son’s ex, you’ve achieved nothing.”

“Elizabeth deserves everything she gets.”

One way or another this fucker is going to die. It’s make or break time, and I need to stand by my convictions. “I’m done.” I stand up and stride over to the exit. “You’re wasting my time.”

Jase has come back and stands beside my way out, guarding it. As I walk towards him, he raises his Glock and aims straight for my forehead. One shot, one kill. From working with him, I know it’d be a miracle for him to miss.

My heart rate steadies into an even beat. The finality of the situation brings some form of calm to my chaos. As I step in closer, the barrel digs into my skin. “You seriously think I’m bothered about dying?” I raise my eyebrows. My hushed words only for Jase’s ears. “I’ve just found out the blood in my veins is from the pits of hell. My supposed half-brother tried to rape the woman I love. And you think I’m fucking bothered about my life?” My breaths labour as I attempt to control the agony, which spikes in my chest as the truth sinks in. “What the fuck do I have left?” I’m either signing both mine and Lizzie’s death warrants, or laying my world open for a friend.

“Shit, Noah. Play the game.” His voice is almost inaudible, and his eyes plead with me.

I know for sure Jase is somehow linked with Bear, and the weight on my chest lifts a fraction, but the heat in my veins renews with force. Bear hasn’t set me up for a fall; he’s using me as bait. And I’m going to beat the living shit out of the lying bastard when I get my hands on him.

“Just fucking do it.” My yelled words echo around the cavernous hangar.

With my eyes trained on Jase, I hear the sound of light footsteps creeping closer. My muscles flex, ready to unarm the men behind me, but Jase gives an imperceptible nod. I need to make a choice. Do I maintain the trust in Bear I’ve had for years, or do I die here? The thought of Lizzie left in the possession of Archie hastens my decision and the trust in my friend wins out.

I pray I’m right.

Jase’s left hand loosens on his weapon, giving me the in I need. I drop my left shoulder and twist my body away from the firing line, simultaneously bringing up my left hand to grab the inside of his right wrist, drawing his arm across my body. The gun goes off as I rotate my torso, further extending his arm, and then wrench it down behind his back. The telltale crack of breaking fingers and the sudden intake of breath from Jase hits me as I twist the gun from his grasp. Jerking him back against me, I bring the weapon to rest under his chin.

My gaze comes to rest on two guys I’ve never seen before, their weapons cocked and trained on me.

“No, no. I need him alive.” Archie strides over, waving his arms.

“For what?” I spit out.

“For my plan to work.”

“What. Fucking. Plan?”

Jase struggles against me. I release him and push him away from me, then take his legs from under him with a swift kick. He falls on the floor and clutches his broken hand, a sly smile on his lips. Crazy bastard loves this shit.

The two armed men slowly lower their weapons, and wait for further instruction.

Thoughts whirl through my mind, and it hits me. This isn’t me anymore. This isn’t who I want to be. I’d be happy running Ignition, coming home to a family every night. Not doing this shit.

Preoccupied with my thoughts, I don’t pick up movement behind me until it’s close. I swing around to be greeted with the butt end of a rifle impacting my temple. My head flies back, taking me off balance, and my vision fogs, but I catch a glimpse of the assailant before everything fades out. I realise I’m right royally screwed. I’ve seen the face in front of me a million times over the years. The bastard who knocks me out is Bear.

I wake, back to the floor, with a splitting headache. I raise a hand to my temple and take a sharp breath when I press against the tender, broken flesh. The heavy smell of gunfire lingers in the air, burning my nostrils. My vision blurs when I lift my head from the ground. A few seconds later, the fuzz disappears, but I’m unable to focus. I squint through the darkness, the only glimmer of light coming from around the thick metal door.

Just fucking great.

I’m in the dead room in the slaughterhouse.

What the hell am I going to do now? Different escape tactics swim around my mind, but they all end the same way. I don’t have a problem with death. It’s easy to come to terms with when the possibilities outweigh any other scenario. I’ve been here before, by choice. Bear saved my arse last time. This time he’s the fucker responsible, and that card being dealt changes the game.

Every muscle aches when I pull myself up and against the far wall. Lizzie’s here somewhere and I need to get to her. In my mind, I try and map the layout over and over, knowing I have numerous obstacles to overcome. Namely, one big fucking one. How the hell am I getting out of here? I check my back, but unsurprisingly, the gun Jase gave me is gone.

Beyond the holding room is the arena. Most of the offices, which run down the length of the hangar, have been converted into dorms, the surveillance rooms built above them. The others have been converted to gyms. At the far end is where I’m at. The slaughterhouse. Custom-built walls inside to minimise noise deflection. The armoury sits on the right-hand side, roughly halfway down, and there’s canteen in the middle where you can sit and eat while watching people get the shit kicked out of them in the arena.

My escape options skitter through my mind and I wind up with one. My only choice. Unless by some act of great stupidity they left the door unlocked, my only choice is to overpower whoever comes to get me.

I only have to wait for a few more minutes before the electric buzz sounds from the digital lock on the door. It opens a fraction but doesn’t move further. More light seeps in. It would have been better for me if the lights were off, but I suppose I’ll have to make do. Just as I wonder if this whole scenario is another trap, the door pushes wide open. The sudden brightness has me reaching to cover my eyes while my vision adjusts.