Run From Me (Barbed Wire Hearts #2)

23. Xander

TWENTY-THREE

xander

“This place seems a little out of your price point, gentleman. I’d suggest looking at the homeless shelter.”

I leaned against the banister of the stairs, very aware that it was probably going to break at any second. This place was a shit hole, and I was done. Cali wouldn’t be coming back here.

“Who the fuck are you?”

I stretched my neck so my tattoo was clearly visible.

“My friends and I are part of a little club called the Spectors. Maybe you’ve heard of us.”

Two of my boys were standing a step behind me while several others itching for a Viper fight waited out of sight on the first floor. Something told me these morons couldn’t tell the difference between the sound of three bikes and six.

“Why are you on our turf, Spector?”

One of my guys lunged forward, but I reached out and held him back.

“Show some respect, Viper,” he said instead.

I shook my head.

“I’m sure there is no reason to remind them,” I said as we all stood locked in a staring contest.

“What will you do now? Rats don’t enjoy being cornered, but I don’t see you lot being able to chew your way through this sticky situation,” I baited them.

My hands itched to kill someone tonight. This time it wasn’t because I needed to let my demons out, but more that I was fueled by the anger of having to leave Cali naked in my bed.

I flexed my fists over and over. What had a smile spreading over my face was the way they looked at me. There was fear even if they hadn’t admitted it yet.

“Are you planning to move and allow us to enter the apartment?” I asked.

I took two steps up, putting me almost at the same height as the Vipers.

They exchanged a look, one flipping open a blade.

“Oh, big man has a knife,” said one of my boys.

I just smiled wider.

“What the fuck is wrong with you? Get off our turf. Boss says we need to bring her in. She’s Viper property.”

I slid the blade from my thigh holster and brought it to my hand, letting the tip rest against my fingertip, not caring if I drew my own blood or theirs. Their eyes watched me.

“Are we comparing size, Vipers? Because if so, I think I win.”

The blade made a thud as I slammed it into the shit wood of the banister.

“If this is your turf, I guess you get to fix up the place then? To be fair though, I looked into this shit hole. It’s held by a shady organization I’d love to blame the Vipers for, but sadly, you don’t own it. So right now? This is neutral territory.”

The wood split as I pulled the large knife out of the banister. The three Vipers weren’t speaking—yet.

I took the rest of the steps and stood a head taller than the stockiest of the three.

“Hey there, boys. So, did I win?”

Before anyone could say anything, I thrust the blade into the guy to my left. The one that was playing with his knife and pissed me off first.

“Ah, shit. Didn’t anyone teach you not to play with knives? Oh, wait. No one told me. My bad. Shit. You’re bleeding all over.”

The guy made a gurgle as his hand latched onto my wrist like I would hold him up.

“What was that?”

He gurgled again, but his legs were giving out. I caught movement to my right and was able to grab the wrist of one more Viper. He howled as his wrist snapped.

“Boys? Take care of the one who’s ruining the wood.”

I shook my wrist free and pulled the knife out at the same time. I got my hold on the broken wrist guy secured and then turned to the other one.

“So are you the leader of this merry band of misfits?” I asked, not really needing an answer.

His pale face was a bit more pale than it had been a minute ago.

“Great. Can I trust you to take a message back for me then?”

His skin was shiny with sweat.

“Not a fucking chance,” he said.

I sighed.

“Well, that’s too bad. I really don’t have a use for you then, do I?”

I pressed on the broken wrist of the other guy, who screamed again, but by the way he stumbled and fell into the wall, he was close to passing out. I let him go.

“I don’t work for the Spectors, prick.”

The man blinked in the time it took me to wrap my hand around his throat and slam him against Calliope’s door.

“You’re right. You don’t. And therefore you aren’t useful to me.” I saw his hand move and as it did, I slit his throat, letting him fall to the ground. The clatter of the small knife he’d been reaching for disturbed the otherwise quiet moment where he tried to stop the bleeding.

“Now, let’s see if your friend here feels like delivering the message. That, or will it be a three for three kind of night?”

“Boss,” said Tank. “He’s ready to take a message back.”

I smiled and looked down at my two choices. Corpse A or the dying bastard B.

“Eenie meenie miney mo. Guess it’s the corpse. Good thing too, this might hurt.” I reached down and sliced off his thumb and tossed it to the stooge.

“Take this back to whoever thinks they are in charge at the moment. They release Calliope from whatever agreement they have, or I’ll start collecting Vipers and sending them back bit by bit.”

Tank dragged him down the stairs, and my other guys were already grabbing bodies.

“Oh, hey. That one isn’t dead yet. Be extra gentle,” I chuckled and turned to Calliope’s door. I unlocked it and realized only the default lock had engaged. What had happened here? I would need to ask more questions. I took a gamble though. If three assholes were outside the door, I guessed there was no one but a cat inside.

“Here, kitty, kitty.”

I grabbed the backpack that was going to have to be catproof for the moment. Silence greeted me. Every step made a sticky sound as the blood on my boots became an annoying detail as it became more tacky than liquid. I paused and second guessed the mess, but fuck it. She wasn’t coming back here.

“O, where the fuck are you?”

No doubt the cat was hiding after hearing the thud of me slamming a body against the door.

A bag of cat treats sat unopened and I grabbed it.

How does one catch a cat?

I ripped the packaging open and shook it, the sandpapery jiggle of the treats immediately breaking the quiet.

“Hey, boss?”

I didn’t turn around. “Shhh.”

I put down one treat after another, heading toward the door where the light spilled in.

“Cats are nocturnal, aren’t they?” I asked.

Rusty stood behind me. “Yeah, boss. My sister’s cat is always up all night like a damn disco party. You need help?”

This was a cat. How hard could it be? I didn’t say anything, just kept dropping treat after treat. Finally a small shadow moved, and I was rewarded with crunching.

“Nope, I’m good. He’s already heading this way.” I listened for the crunch and put another treat down then put the bag down and tossed in a handful of treats.

The distant sound of sirens caught my attention.

“Rusty? Let me guess. Those are headed this way?” I asked.

“Yeah. Zeid sent a text that it came over on the scanners. Someone called in fighting. The bodies are in the dumpster, now we just need to get out of here.”

Fuck.

“Right. Okay. Shit. How much blood is in her apartment?”

I saw Rusty take out his phone and turn on the flashlight, highlighting two little beady eyes.

“Not much. And can you get the cat? We need to go,” he said.

I sighed.

“Yeah.”

What I really meant is that I had no fucking clue as I slowly crawled toward the cat while dragging the backpack.

“Here, kitty, kitty. Nice little demon cat.”

He looked up at me and then went to the treat. The sirens grew louder. Shit.

“You go. Have someone move my bike over to the side. The door locks will buy me time at least.”

Rusty did as told, and as the door clicked closed, I eyed the little shiny eyes in the dark.

“Alright, you shit. I will spoil you. I will do whatever Cali wants, but you have to get in the damn bag.”

This is one of those nights I’d probably reflect on when I was old. For once, I wanted to grow old. That was a new feeling.

I lay on my stomach listening to the sirens, knowing they were in the lot. Well fuck. This was going to suck.

I couldn’t wait any longer. I was going to regret choices later, but I lunged for the cat and got him by the tail.

Thank god those sirens were loud as fuck because so was this cat.

I tried to pet his head as I shoved him in the bag, knowing my riding gloves would be toast. Probably the jacket too. But he stopped wailing as I put the bag on, and I heard him crunch on treats. Running to the side window, I went out on her small rickety balcony.

“Alright, cat, chill out so we can get out of here.”

I kicked my leg over the wrought iron railing and looked down. It was only the second floor up. I could do this.

I slid myself down, holding on with my arms, and then, as my feet dangled, I let go, praying to not land on the cat and not break anything either.

I landed with a thud and my knee cracked the pavement, but the sound was mostly the thick plate in my riding pants. Once in a while I did the right thing. The shock of the fall had me limping the first few steps, and then I was at my bike and off again just as flashing lights appeared on the side of the building, rounding the corner.

Lights lit up my back just as I left the lot. No one seemed to give me any notice though, and I rode off, catching up with a few of the guys lagging behind waiting for me.

The thing about all this was that I couldn’t wait to get back to my apartment where the soft curves of Cali were waiting for me.