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“Ryan. What’s wrong?” Scar answered, a slight note of panic.
“Not Ryan. But she’s in trouble.”
The silence on the other end was deafening, but I took it as a good sign that I didn’t hear a dial tone.
“What do you need from me? I’ll help however I can, but you should know I’m no longer in Tucson,” she replied.
I sighed in relief at her words. “I need access to the parts of Lotería biometrically locked, and I need camera feed access so I know where Ryan is in the building.” I grimaced, knowing I needed more than that but unsure whether I should ask. Ryan and Scar were friends, but the definition of friends in the criminal world was different from the definition to everyone else. I didn’t know where Scar’s generosity would run out, so I started with the must-haves.
“Psh. You’re going to need more than that. I know you’re used to working with shit resources and intelligence, which is ironic, but that’s not how I work. A message is coming through. You’ll find the blueprints to the club and a link to watch the live feeds of all the cameras.” The sound of a keyboard clicking could be heard. It was like the woman had twenty fingers with how fast she was typing. “Well, our girl is currently blowing holes in people,” Scar announced casually.
My eyes widened as I scrambled to click on the link. It was a highly inappropriate time to get a hard-on, but damn, was she hot when she was bloodthirsty. I pulled at my tactical pants, making more room for my dick. Dex snickered from beside me. I hadn’t been as discreet as I’d thought.
“I’ll be watching the feeds for when you and Dex arrive…”
The way his head snapped to look at me was comical. Cupping his hands around his mouth, he whispered, “She’s a wizard, Harry.”
I rolled my eyes at him.
“Damn right, I’m a wizard. Now pay attention, this is important. I’ll have to send the system into emergency power mode. It’s the only way to override the biometric scanners. All the house lights will cut out, and the emergency lighting will trigger. Be aware that a fucking annoying alarm will also sound, but the chaos will probably help you out. The doors will still require a code to enter, but the scanner will be disabled. I’ll change the code to four zeros when you arrive. Got it?” she asked.
“Fuck, you are amazing, Scar. I don’t even know how I’ll make this up to you, but I’m grateful for your help,” I responded, a huge weight lifted off my shoulders since she agreed.
“We’ll call this a trade of favors. When I need you in the future, remember this moment.” She paused. “Besides…Ryan deserves to be happy and to get out from under that asshole’s thumb.”
I nodded in agreement, even though Scar couldn’t see the movement. At least I didn’t think she could. My finger hovered over the end call button when her voice rang out through the SUV once more.
“Oh, and one more thing…you better get her out of there, or I’ll hunt you down. Got it…Special Agent McGregor?” she said, her tone deadly before it cut to a dial tone.
Even if she’d stayed on the line, I wouldn’t have been able to come up with a response to that. Scar had managed to unravel an FBI-level deep cover record and fabricated ID in less than seventy-two hours. For twenty-four months, I had been Gunner, Skeletons of Society’s sergeant at arms. My records showed stretches in county jails, job histories at local Skeletons establishments, and parents who lived in Scottsdale. Fuck, even my fake favorite color was supposed to come up—blue. The color Ryan had said didn’t fit me because it didn’t. My whole existence was fabricated, besides the reasoning behind my road name. Scout sniper in the Marines for eight years was a damn good reason for the road name Gunner.
“How the fuck did she find that out?” Dex asked as his hand raked through his hair. “None of the guys have suspected who you are, and they’ve been living with your ass for almost two years.”
“Fuck. She had this whole-body scanner, but I thought my cover would be airtight enough not to matter…but I don’t think that’s what gave me away,” I answered, walking through every moment of the meeting. Dex sat quietly, waiting for my brain to try to work out how this all happened.
I huffed. “I knew that dickwad recognized me,” I mumbled. “Remember Caleb Callahan?”
Dex’s brows wrinkled as he tried to recall the name before it dawned on him. “Holy shit. As in the Irish Mob, Caleb Callahan?” he asked.
“One and the same. He was at Scar’s safe house. No clue why. I was hoping he didn’t recognize me from my time in New York, but it seems I made an impression all those years ago.”
I knew damn well I would have to keep my mouth shut about Scar. The FBI would love to get their hands on her, and when she refused—they would threaten her with a bottomless, dark hole. A new level of shock hit my system when I realized she’d known who I was when she chose to help me.
Snapping out of my shock, I threw the SUV into drive.
“She won’t be the only one finding out I’m going off-plan. We gotta get a move on before this gets leaked and I get pulled.” I looked over my shoulder at Dex. “If you want out, I get it. Your deal was to help me gather information to take down Mario. You didn’t sign up for this other shit,” I stated.
The grin on Dex’s face was terrifying. “Gunner, I chose the outlaw biker life after we got out, remember? I live for this shit. Besides, me beating someone’s ass to the brink of death is what got you into this whole situation to begin with. I’ve always lived for some vigilante justice,” he stated, slamming a mag home, emphasizing his plan to see this through.
“Till Valhalla, brother,” I stated, focusing back on the road.
Ryan
My brain was barely registering that the groaning noise was coming from me.
This was what it must feel like to be hit by a car.
A warm trickle ran down my face, making me aware of at least one injury. The faint scent of cleaner clued me in to where I was being held. I didn’t know if I was alone or not. The ringing in my ears from the impact made it too hard to decipher noises.
