In the Air Tonight (35 page)

Cael moved forward to comfort, to help.

Before he could do either, the knife slashed across Gray’s throat, the bright red gushing from the wound—Gray’s eyes wide with pain and surprise, unable to do anything but reach up and touch the blood. Cael cried out—she heard herself cry out too—and the DMH man who’d cut Gray held the knife with her stepbrother’s blood on it.

Then Caleb howled, and through the fog—despite it—he was moving toward the man with the knife, and there was murder on his mind …

“Paige, enough.” Caleb’s voice. The connection broke because Mace was pulling her away from Cael, who stood staring at her.

“I didn’t …”

“No,” she whispered. “But you didn’t let me finish.”

“No one should have to see that,” Mace told her hoarsely. “You did enough.”

“I’ve got to remember the rest on my own,” Cael said. “I need to remember it all on my own, dammit.”

His frustration had grown—maybe he thought she was lying to make him feel better.

“I saw Gray die … I saw that man murder my brother in front of you. You refused to do it,” she
told Caleb. “You’ll remember when you’re ready, but please believe me. Believe in yourself.”

Vivi rubbed Caleb’s arm and Paige felt Mace behind her.

She was drained. Shaken. Didn’t protest when Mace picked her up as if she weighed nothing at all and carried her up the stairs.

T
hey circled the wagons and the bar remained closed for a few more days as Arthur’s death was investigated further. So far, there had been no leads. Jeffrey had been questioned in prison and he denied any knowledge of either Adrienne Brite’s attempted break-in or Arthur’s murder.

He’d only wanted to know if that meant the publication date of the book would be pushed back. Vivi had been checking to see if Arthur’s book had leaked onto the Internet, but so far, she’d found nothing. And Reid continued to grumble that he should’ve just gone and stolen it before this.

The days were for sure filled with tension, but the five of them stuck together, closed ranks, and Mace watched Caleb carefully.

His friend wanted so badly to remember Gray’s death for himself. Add to that the fact that Dylan and Cam were heading this way within the next twenty-four hours and all Mace wanted to do was take Paige back to bed and stay there for a good long while. Naked.

When he finally reopened the doors to the bar, news of the second murder had spread far and wide. The
locals were both cautious and curious—for most, curiosity won out.

The bar wasn’t as crowded as it had been. But it was full enough that a few minor fights sparked, and people kept looking at Paige with questions in their eyes, but Mace and the others made sure no one got close enough to ask.

When a few members of the OA walked in, Mace let out a string of curses; Reid just mumbled something under his breath.

Keagen was already out from behind the bar and strolling to meet them. After a few minutes of conversation, he turned and pointed at Paige, who seemed blissfully unaware of the situation as she poured shots as though she’d been bartending her whole life.

“What the fuck,” Mace muttered.

Keagen came up behind Mace. “I didn’t know they were coming here.”

“Get them out, Keagen,” he said, even as his bartender was already moving toward his fellow OA members.

The OA was as much a part of this town as the bar was—they each just had their separate sides, and Mace knew things would be much better if everyone stayed on them. For a long time, there had been an unspoken respect between Mace and the men who wore their cuts like he wore his war medals. The motorcycle gang wasn’t good for his business and they knew it. Mace had made it clear when he took over years earlier. So even when he was out of town and the husband and wife he’d hired to manage the place were here, the OA left the bar alone.

The thought of Paige staying in town made him
happy, but the thought of her running all over the damned place helping Doc, possibly coming into contact with men like the OA, made him want to lock her up inside the bar and never let her out.

He assumed that was a semi-natural reaction. And he made a mental note to speak to Doc about not sending Paige out alone. Ever.

“You okay?” Paige asked, standing on tiptoe to get close to his ear. One of her hands snaked around the nape of his neck, her bare palm cool against his skin, and oh, yeah, he liked that. It seemed natural to her, and she was looking at him with a smile in her eyes.

“When you do that, I am,” he muttered to cover the flood of emotion. She dropped her hand from his neck and reached down to give his a quick squeeze before going back to work.

A small gesture for some couples. For them, it meant everything.

With that, he went out to the floor to make sure the OA moved out at a faster clip, talking to some of the regulars as he did so, until he saw Vivi waving to him from the stairs.

“What’s going on?” he asked. He moved to stand next to her so he could keep an eye on the room. He saw Paige talking to Keagen, people beginning to dance to the music Reid had just turned up, and he should’ve felt calm. Instead, unease began to gnaw at his gut.

“I just found something odd,” Vivi told him. “Dylan e-mailed me the list of addresses for the women on the visitors’ list. And this name—”

She pointed to the name
Leanne Gross
. “She visited about twelve times this year—less than some of the
others, but still, her address is listed as being in an assisted-living facility in New York City.”

“That makes no sense.”

“I thought so too, so I did some more digging. According to what I found, she’s got multiple sclerosis and has been confined to a wheelchair for the past three years. There’s no way she’d be visiting a prison. She’s pretty advanced in her disease—talking’s hard as well.” Vivi shook her head.

Mace took the paper from her and looked at the address. “This assisted-living facility is close to the hospital where Paige worked.”

“I don’t like this at all,” Vivi said.

A sudden chill ran up Mace’s spine as he looked at Paige. But before he could say anything, angry male shouts pulled his attention toward the crowd in the bar.

Because the OA hadn’t left at all. No, they were hitting on some women who already had boyfriends—who weren’t happy.

“Ah, fuck me,” Mace said as the first chair went flying and Reid dove into the madness. Keagen was coming out from behind the bar and he met his friends in the middle of the frenzy, calling back to Vivi to “Get upstairs and lock the top door.”

He didn’t turn back to see if she did what he told her to—instead, he got clipped by a right hook and that was the last he saw of calm, cool and collected for the next twenty minutes.

T
here was a lot of extra testosterone here tonight. Way too much, Paige mused. Beyond Mace, Reid, Cael and Keagen, the OA members who’d shown up made the bar practically teem with it.

Not a good combination.

As chairs and fists began to fly, Mace told her to get to the back and stay there. Reid told her to grab Caleb.
And some extra tequila
, he’d shouted over the din.

She quickly ducked out from behind the bar to the safety of the back room, seeing no sign of Caleb. This was neither the time nor the place to attempt to hold her own and she shut the door behind her, locking it against the madness, just as Mace had told her to.

It was an order she had no problem following.

The OA men were obviously as dangerous as their reputation implied and she wasn’t sure if they were
here because of Harvey. She winced at the sound of shattering glass and reminded herself that Mace and Reid and Keagen could take care of themselves.

But still, the letter she’d received from her friend’s mother had bolstered her. Nothing could bring her down tonight. Nothing—not even the fight.

She felt as if she might finally be able to forgive herself, the way Mrs. Lansing had forgiven her. She felt as if she’d found a home. Even with the fights and the shouting and the testosterone.

And then she noted the chill in the room, which was odd. Although maybe Caleb was recycling the empties out back.

She looked—the door was propped open with a broom, something he normally did when the bar was open, since the door was set to lock automatically.

They no doubt needed him inside now, and so she walked out, trying not to fall flat on her ass, calling, “Caleb, where are you? Mace needs you inside.”

She heard the sound of glass shattering and was pretty sure Caleb would’ve heard it too. For all she knew, he went around toward the front door and was already involved in breaking up the fight.

And you shouldn’t be out here alone
. Suddenly, she was all too aware of that, and so she turned and went inside, kicking the broom away so she could shut and lock the door behind her.

She was halfway inside when something flipped into her line of vision and wrapped around her neck—a rope, she thought, as she clawed wildly at the thick line that tightened fast and hard, taking her breath away and jerking her backward at a fast-paced stumble. She flailed her arms helplessly, trying to keep
some semblance of balance so that she didn’t fall flat on her ass, cutting off her air supply further.

Stay calm, Paige. Stay calm … and fight
.

The rope tightened and she couldn’t scream for help. Couldn’t do anything as she was being tugged out of the storeroom and into the freezing-cold night. Her feet slipped uselessly on the ice and she heard a soft grunt behind her as she managed to get in a single blow with her elbow.

It didn’t stop the attack—far from it. She found herself being pulled along faster, into the woods from what little she could see—and my God, who would find her now?

Suddenly, she was thrown forward. Disoriented, she threw her hands out to stop her fall and found herself hitting a tree, cheek-first. She reached out to claw at the person grabbing for her, but a vicious punch to the gut made her double over. Another slam to the side of her head when she was bent in that vulnerable position, and there was a blissful release from the pain.

She wasn’t sure how long she was out. Couldn’t have been very long. But she was numb, sitting on the ground, her back to a tree. And there was a rope around her neck keeping her in place. Her wrists were tied together in front of her, and she brought them up to her neck to try to loosen the rope, but couldn’t.

It was tied fast. Her cheek ached, her head throbbed and her fingers—and everything else—were numb. It wasn’t freezing cold, but it was close enough.

She opened her mouth to scream, but the rope was
just tight enough to stop her. She could barely take in air, and she willed herself to calm down.

Her eyes slowly adjusted to the pitch black and she was finally able to see the outline of a person standing in front of her. She blinked a few times to try to clear the black spots that were swimming in front of her eyes but that only seemed to make it worse. And then she heard a familiar voice say, “He wanted to meet you here but he’s been held up. So we’ll just sit patiently and wait for him. Shouldn’t be long now.”

That voice—she knew that voice but was too disoriented to place it. She opened her mouth to speak but only a gurgling sound came out.

“Family is family,” the woman lectured her, as if Paige was her problem pupil. “Jeffrey always said you didn’t know the meaning of family.”

There was a crashing sound to Paige’s left, and then heavy footsteps.

Was Jeffrey here?

“No,” she managed to gurgle.

“Yes, he’s coming,” the woman practically purred, as if she was preparing to meet a lover, the level of excitement in her voice making it rise slightly higher, and Paige recognized her—but the footsteps grew louder and the fear threatened to claim all her senses. “I told you he wouldn’t let me down.”

There was nothing left for Paige to do but brace herself for Jeffrey’s arrival. Saw a man come out of the bushes, the glint of a blade reflecting above her and then the spots swam in front of her eyes again and everything went black.

——

C
aleb felt a chill down his spine he knew had nothing to do with the weather.

He’d been outside, attempting to clear his head, staring up at the glittering night sky to rid himself of the recently all too familiar trapped feeling.

He hadn’t heard back from Kell yet, and he knew he’d be on pins and needles until he did.

It really was the witching hour. He heard the bar explode into chaos and fought his natural reaction to run inside and help Mace regain control.

But something kept him out here, moving his feet into the dark woods. Something, or someone.

He wasn’t sure where he was going; his body seemed to be on autopilot. He was in a fog—half in memory, half in the present moment—and he just kept moving blindly through the dark, toward the shadows, his feet barely making noise despite the icy snow.

The shadows were his enemies. He’d been told that many times.

He heard his own breaths … soft voices … a muffled moan.

In the dark, there was the flash of a blade—the reflection caught his attention and he reached out without thinking …

The shadow was the enemy … and his team needed help. The fog lifted enough for him to know that.

When he finally crashed through the clearing, he saw a raised knife and then he didn’t think, moved fast because he didn’t want to see more blood …

And even though he saw Paige tied up helplessly, he was, in that moment, back in a hole, walking around
in a daze, fighting with his own mind and the drugs for control. Entering a dark room and finding a man standing over Gray—knife in his hand and the blood … so much blood.

Gray’s eyes, lifeless. Too late. Too fucking late. And when the enemy—the real enemy—turned to him, and Cael knew exactly what to do.

The enemy had to die. Before he could do anything, there was the glint of a blade and a slash of pain along his neck and his temper flared. And then he had the knife and was more than prepared to use it.