Vigilante 01 - Who Knows the Storm (21 page)

“You’re better off out of there,” Rachel said, clipped and brusque. “Stay away from the Iron Butterfly, Cade, believe me.”

Cade jogged to the corner. He could see the street, he could see—a police cruiser parked at the other end of the block.

Oh God.

“What’s going on, Rachel?” He panted, ducking behind the grocery store, now closed up for the night.

“The less you know, the safer you’ll be. And don’t go back to your apartment for a few hours. I’m texting you an address—it’s better if you wait there for my call.” Rachel disconnected, and Cade smacked his hand against the brick wall.

A second later an unknown number came up on his phone. He didn’t recognize the address—which meant it wasn’t in The District.

What the ever-loving hell was going on?

C
ADE
,
IN
the midst of his mental gymnastics, remembered the back entrance to the house.

He walked up to Ninety-Second, then cut through the deserted lot behind the townhouse. He could see the door as the sirens went off and curfew went into effect.

Hiding behind the small wall separating the property lines, Cade pressed the icon for Sam, praying he was home. Two rings. Three.

“Hello?”

“Sam, I’m at the back door, let me in,” he whispered, staying alert in case a cop was walking by. Or another pack of drug dealers.

“Okay, okay.”

He heard fumbling and movement through the line; Cade jumped to the top of the wall, then over the short, spiked fence, and kept low until he came to the door. A light went on in the kitchen and the door opened.

Sam pulled him inside and shut the door behind him.

“There’s a cop car—”

“My dad isn’t here,” Sam blurted. “He’s been gone all day and I can’t find him.”

“Shit.” Cade stripped off his coat and walked to the front of the house. The flashing lights from the cruiser illuminated the entire block. “We need to stay inside and hope he makes it back here.”

He turned around to find Sam on the verge of tears behind him, twisting his hands.

“This is my fault,” Sam whispered. “That man and me wanting to know who my parents are.”

Cade shook his head as he took Sam’s hand. “Stop it. You didn’t ask for this—it’s just people meddling and playing games. You didn’t ask for this,” he repeated, but the boy just bowed his head, breaking down into tears.

“My dad….”

“Stop, okay? Just stop. He’s going to be fine. He can take care of himself,” Cade said gently, pulling Sam into his arms. “Deep breath.”

The back door opened just as someone pounded on the front door. Cade reacted on instinct.

He pushed Sam toward the stairs. “Up, right now. Stay in your room and lock the door.”

“Police!” The pounding began again.

Cade took every ounce of his remaining courage and opened the door.

A uniformed rookie stood on the front step, shining a flashlight in Cade’s face.

“Can I help you?” he asked, calm and sweet as he could muster, like he was addressing a Girl Scout offering up some cookies.

“I’m looking for Sam Mullens,” the man said. Man? Boy playing dress-up. He looked like he was maybe twenty, with shorn blond hair and a baby face. Not an ounce of menace in him.

“He’s asleep,” Cade said. “Anything else?”

“Sir, I really need to speak with him.”

There was a desperation there, an urgency in his tone that didn’t say
cop
. It said
personal
. Cade paused before he closed the door in the kid’s face. “Maybe I can get him a message.”

The cop sighed, looking worriedly over his shoulder. “Tell him Mason came by. Tell him he needs to be careful.”

“Mason? You helped Sam when he got picked up.”

Cade almost hit the floor in relief when he heard Nox’s voice behind him. A hand touched his back, and Cade leaned into it.
Thank God
.

“Yeah, that’s me.” Mason flicked his flashlight over Cade’s shoulder.

“I’m his father. Is everything all right?” Calm and cool. Only Cade felt the tremor in his touch.

“Just please—tell him to be careful.” Mason looked down the street again, fear clearly written in his expression. “Tell him Mason said to be careful.”

And with that the rookie turned, jogged down the steps, and disappeared through the gate.

Cade slammed the door, resting his forehead against it as Nox engaged all the locks over his shoulder.

“What the hell is going on?” Cade asked, turning into Nox’s embrace.

T
HEY
SAT
in Sam’s room, on the bed, sharing what had happened. Sam cried again when Nox described what had happened to him in the past few hours. Someone was threatening to frame Sam for the bombings. Nox had been dropped on the corner of their block by these guys, which meant they knew exactly where they lived. Cade shook as he soothed the teenager, rubbing his back in circles. It was something his mom would do when the world seemed entirely too much for Cade to handle. When his gaze met Nox’s and he saw the fear, the worry, Cade felt something unlock in his chest.

I’ll kill anyone who tries to hurt you
, he thought, surprising himself. Cade refused to fight the realization. At this moment, he was being included in this little family and determined to pull his weight in fixing the mess. Cade slid his hand across the bed to rub the back of Nox’s hand.

“He needs to get out of here,” Nox said, all quiet anger. “We have to find somewhere the cops can’t find him.”

“My apartment—” Cade started to say, but then he remembered Rachel’s warning. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. Too many nosy models,” he said, covering quickly. “But I—I might know a place. Somewhere, uh—it’s just somewhere that was recommended to me. Someplace safe.” He knew mentioning Rachel’s name would throw a wrench in this little plan, so he kept that part to himself.

For now.

They packed a bag for Sam, then snuck out the back door, hiking through the shadows and down to the Circle the back way. Cade gave Nox the address, cheeks burning with fear—thankfully unnoticed as they tramped through the dark.

Please let me be doing the right thing
, he thought to himself.
Please let trusting Rachel be the right move.
Because she was trying to keep him safe. If she didn’t know Sam and Nox were with him….

It would be fine. It had to be.

Interlude

I
N
THE
panic room with Sam, trying to shush the infant’s cries, he can hear people outside, walking around his mother’s bedroom. They’ve been here for over an hour, looking for something. Looking for him? He doesn’t know, and he’s scared out of his wits.

Finally there’s a knock on the wall.

Jenny calls to him though the hidden opening. “It’s okay. You can come out now.”

He thinks he shouldn’t believe her. He thinks he should stay here, but he can’t stay in this little room forever.

With the crying baby against his chest, Nox opens the door.

There’s a smear of blood on Jenny’s face, a smoking gun in her hand, and two bodies lying on the floor behind her.

“They worked for the people who killed your father and you were next,” Jenny says.

He takes her at her word.

Chapter Thirty-nine

S
AM
FELT
sick to his stomach.

He sat on the floor of an abandoned printing company, watching as his father stalked around, checking windows and doors and closets. Cade trailed behind him from room to room.

No one looked at Sam, and he was glad for that, because he didn’t want to see their disappointment. Dust and God-only-knew-what kicked around; he covered the lower half of his face with his jacket, breathing in the harsh scent of detergent. His eyes watered, allergies and irritation and his own stupidity fueling his tears.

Mason had come by to warn him. Something fluttered in his chest, amazing and painful at once. He couldn’t tell his father, not now. He couldn’t say,
Mason and I have been talking. There’s a disposable cell you don’t know about. We have feelings for each other….

It was more fuel to the fire, more proof that Sam was a screwup.

“Everything seems okay,” Nox said, coming back into the small office where Sam had been parked. “Are you hungry? I’m going to head out, pick up some more supplies.”

The gruffness of his father’s tone made Sam feel worse. If only he hadn’t followed the truck that night. If only he hadn’t been picked up by the police.

He’d even trade meeting Mason if it meant this wasn’t happening.

“I’m fine,” he whispered, wringing his hands in his lap. “I think I’m just going to go to sleep. If that’s okay.”

Leaning in the doorway, a newly arrived Cade gave him a grim smile from across the room. “It’s been a rough couple of hours. That sounds like a great idea. You got something you can sleep on?”

“My sleeping bag.” Sam gestured past Cade to the cubicle area where a secretary once sat.

“There’s this storage room like two doors down,” Cade said, looking at Nox. “Seemed a little less disgusting than the rest of this place. No moldy carpeting.”

“Yeah, good idea. You should sleep in there.” Nox didn’t look at Sam, busying himself with checking his gun, then tucking it back into his waistband. “Cade’ll show you where it is.”

“Thanks,” Sam whispered. He got up and walked past his father. He paused, hoping for a hug, a touch. Something—anything—just so he knew Nox forgave him for screwing up so badly.

“I’ll see you in the morning,” Nox murmured. When he reached out to squeeze Sam’s arm, Sam almost started to cry.

A
FTER
CHANGING
into a pair of heavy flannel pajamas and socks, then brushing his teeth via a bottle of water and a bucket in the “bathroom,” Sam went to the storage room where Cade was cleaning up. A camping lantern sat on a pile of broken shelves, bathing the small space in a gentle glow.

“I can do that,” he said softly, but Cade ignored his comment. He went on sweeping the clutter into the corner until there was a space for Sam to lay his sleeping bag.

“It’s not the Butterfly, but it’ll have to do,” Cade mused, hands on his hips as he surveyed his handiwork. “I’m gonna see if I can go to my friend’s apartment and pick up some bedding. There’s a draft….”

Probably a hole in the roof, but Sam didn’t mention that. Cade wasn’t used to living like this, but Sam remembered winters where the only thing keeping them from freezing was the fireplace and the dining room furniture they fed to it every night.

Sam spread out his sleeping bag—designed to withstand blizzard conditions—and laid his backpack down to use as a pillow.

“This is not me tucking you in,” Cade said dryly. “Just… supervising.”

Sam smiled wanly. He crawled into the insulated bag, pulling the fabric up to his neck. The room was dusty and it smelled of mildew; beneath him the ground was hard. He didn’t say anything.

He missed his bed.

“Get some sleep,” Cade said softly, lightly kicking at his feet. “We’ll figure it out in the morning.”

Sam nodded because he didn’t want to cry in front of Cade.

“Night.”

Cade turned and left, taking the light with him. Sam had one of his own, but he didn’t bother. At this point he just wanted to sleep and try to have a few moments where he didn’t feel so absolutely terrible.

In the next room, he heard murmurs of conversation, and then someone’s phone rang. Fear gripped Sam. He sat up, trying to listen in.

A minute later the light reappeared, along with Cade.

“Sam?”

“Yeah.”

“Sorry. We’re going to head out for a little bit, pick up some supplies.”

“Oh. Okay.” Sam smiled faintly. He didn’t want to be left alone. “Not too long, right?”

“An hour, tops.” Cade’s voice softened. “Are you going to be all right?”

“Yeah.” He refused to cause more trouble. “I’ll be fine.”

Cade ducked back out, closing the door behind him. Sam waited for his dad to come in, but he never did. He fell asleep with tears on his face and a heavy fist in his heart.

A
FEW
hours later, Sam awoke to rough hands pulling him out of the sleeping bag and dragging him out the door.

Chapter Forty

“I
DON
’
T
like leaving him,” Nox muttered as they walked down the street toward Cade’s apartment on the other side of the District. The cold weather kept most people inside, but Nox and Cade stuck to side streets and moved quickly just in case.

“He’ll be fine. No one knows he’s there but you and me,” Cade said, chattering in the chilly night air.

Nox grunted in response, worry fluttering in his chest. He wanted to get to Cade’s apartment, pack up his things, and make some phone calls. Figure something out. Because right now some asshole knew far too much and Nox knew nothing.

He didn’t like that feeling.

“You don’t know who that man was? The one in the warehouse?” Cade asked softly.

Nox didn’t want to answer, but Cade was putting an awful lot on the line for him and Sam. “I’ve never been able to get much information about him. The dealers have never met him—he keeps himself pretty well hidden.”

“But he takes the time to talk to you?”

Nox side-eyed his lover. “I couldn’t see his face.”

“Right. But he talked to you. He didn’t send someone to do it.” Cade frowned as they turned down another side street, and pulled his coat collar up around his ears. “Maybe you know him.”

He shook his head. “I don’t know many people. They’re either dead or they….”

“Don’t know who you really are—like that guy,” Cade finished.

They walked the rest of the way in silence.