My heart hammers in my chest and I spin around, realizing there are still a dozen crates in the warehouse, but the boys have stopped loading. One of them slams the trunk down and runs to the driver’s side door.
Liam has a gas can that he’s rushing toward the warehouse with.
Where the hell did that come from?
He starts pouring the gasoline along the perimeter, dousing the grassy areas. I stand still, my mind racing as I try to figure out how I can keep this from happening.
I glance behind me, hoping like hell that I see cars coming around the bend, but I don’t.
Liam waltzes up to me, wiping his sweaty forehead with the sleeve of his arm. Then he tosses me a box of matches. “Light it up for me, yeah?”
I look down to the matches and over to the warehouse before meeting Liam’s eyes. “But there’re still crates.”
“Cost of doing business with rats, huh?” He shrugs.
Fuck.
If the warehouse burns down, it burns all the evidence with it. But if I don’t… I meet Liam’s eyes.
“What’s wrong, rook?” He smirks, his eyes calculating as they take me in. “Nervous?”
I pull out the match and jog over to the building, striking it against the box and flicking it onto the grass that lines the perimeter.
Immediately, it goes up in flames.
Turning away, I rush back, the SUV already peeling out of the lot, gravel flying from beneath its tires. Liam’s in his car, revving the engine. My lungs burn as I run to the passenger side and slide in, right as he starts to pull away.
Flames and smoke rise from behind us and we’re gone before there’s even a hint of my guys on the scene.
But I already know what they’ll find.
Absolutely nothing.
Two hours later and we’re in the basement of The Yellow Brick, the silence heavy as it presses in on everything around us. Everyone is on edge, including me, but I can’t help letting my mind wander. Farrell is sitting at the head of the exact table I fucked his daughter on two nights ago. And I haven’t seen her since.
“I want to know,” Farrell starts, his voice low and lethal. “Who the fuck tipped off the cops? Who’s stupid enough to not realize I’ve got eyes and ears everywhere?”
Nobody says a word.
Farrell shoots up from his seat, slamming his fist on the wood. “No one’s got shit to say?”
Liam glares at me from across the room, and anxiety winds its way around my chest and squeezes, making my heart beat double time.
The basement door swings open, the sound of heels clacking on the stairs, but even if I couldn’t hear her footsteps, I’d know Eveline was here. As stupid as it sounds, I swear to god I can feel her.
She walks past me and heads straight toward her dad, not even sparing me a glance.
“What happened?” Her voice is sharp.
“A fucking rat, is what happened,” Farrell spits.
Her brows rise and she peers around the room, her gaze lingering on mine, and fuck my stomach for flipping the way it does.
Suddenly, there’s cold metal pressed against my forehead, making my temperature spike and my muscles tense.
I look up at Liam, his gun pushing into my skin. “Get your fucking gun out of my face.”
He chuckles. “No chance, rook. Not until you prove it ain’t you.”
Leaning back in my chair, I smirk, although bile teases the back of my throat. “I don’t have to prove shit to you.”
Farrell sits forward, his eyes sharp when they land on me, and I already know from our earlier interaction at the warehouse he won’t be any help.
Eveline crosses her arms, looking lazily at the scene, as if she couldn’t care less that someone is ten seconds away from shoving a bullet through my brain. Most likely, she’s wishing it could be her that does it.
“You expect us to believe that you show up and suddenly we’ve got a leak?” he spits, pressing his gun against me harder.
My head tilts to the side from the force and I grimace. “Pretty defensive for someone who’s got nothing to hide, Liam. How do we know it isn’t you?”
My eyes meet Zeke’s across the room where he leans against the wall with his arms crossed and his jaw tensed, not saying a word.
He’s nervous.
“It’s not him.” Eveline’s voice is sharp and strong.
“Of course it’s not me,” Liam says.
“Not you, moron.” Eveline’s eyes narrow and she waves a hand toward me. “It’s not him.”
Liam’s nostrils flare.
“How do you know, Bug?” Farrell asks.
She walks up to me, her stare holding mine, and even in this fucked-up situation, my stomach flips as she catches my gaze. She cocks her head as she stands next to Liam, whose gun is still pressed against my head.
I smile at her.
She frowns in response. “I already ran a check on him. He is who he says he is. Besides, I’ve had him tailed for weeks.”
My chest twists, surprise washing over me. What the fuck?
No way she’s been following me. If she has, then she’d know I was at that motel, and if she knows that, why would she be saying I’m not the rat?
“Liam,” she continues. “I know he hurt your ego the other night when you guys played ‘whose dick is bigger,’ but you don’t get to kill one of our guys just because you don’t like him.”
He adjusts his hold on the gun, the metal clinking beneath his grip. “He’s the rat, Evie. I’m telling you.”
I see her slip her hand up her thigh before anyone else does, and in a few seconds flat she has her Desert Eagle pressed beneath his chin.
“He’s not,” she says calmly.
His eyes flick down to her. “Really, Evie? All these years you’ve known me and you stand up for this guy?”
She grins, flipping off the safety.
“Liam,” Farrell interjects. “Round up every motherfucker who knew what was happening tonight and bring them to me.” He looks to Eveline. “You got that fancy thing your mystery friend made, yeah? The one that scans for wires? Bring it.”
My insides go wild, anxiety eating through every tendon. A thing that scans for wires? How the fuck?
Liam’s jaw clenches, his arm trembling as he keeps his gun aimed at my head. I hold eye contact, even though everything in me wants to look over to Eveline. To see how fucking sexy she looks while she defends my honor in the face of a man she’s known for years.
My stomach rolls, knowing I don’t deserve it.
Finally, he drops the weapon and Eveline steps back, spinning toward her dad. A maniacal gleam enters her eyes, and my Eveline disappears in a second.
And just like that, I’m reminded that she isn’t on my side at all.
17
EVELINE
“Eveline.”
Brayden’s voice scrapes against my skin, and I speed up to try and outrun it. I’m almost to my car, and if I can just make it a couple more steps, I’m home free.
It’s the middle of the night, so no one else is here besides the boys in the basement, but I don’t want to hang around until they need me. I’m already at my limit for “peopling,” and I’m desperate for some solitude after the past few days of doing nothing except being around others.
“Wait up, Eveline,” Brayden says again.