Another look at Ryan tells me he knows what’s up, so I let them take it from here and watch Ford drive the little bot over to Ashleigh. She’s got the trunk open and then she races to the bot, scoops it up, and puts it in the trunk.
And that’s when Fonzie decides he wants to fight. He swings at Fletch, but Griff knocks him back and then all eight of those posers are on my two guys. Ryan and I are off our bikes, throwing punches, when the cops show up. Scott is ordering us to stop on his speaker, but the only thing I care about is that Ashleigh weaves that piece-of-shit Beetle in between our chaos and drives off.
“Mission accomplished,” Ford says. “Now get out of there and we’ll meet at the farm.”
Everything is a blur after that. People are pushing me, Fletch and Griff are still trying to throw punches, and Ryan is talking to Scott calmly.
“Shrike, what the f**k is going on?” Scott asks.
“Hey, we pulled up to check things out and these ass**les just attacked us.”
“Yeah,” Ryan says. “I’ve got it all on film.”
Fucking Ryan might be my new number one.
Scott watches the video for a few seconds and then takes out his cuffs and makes a grab for Drake. His little blonde partner catches Fonzie before he can slink away from Scott, and slaps the cuffs on him.
“Paybacks are a bitch,” I say under my breath. But Fonzie catches it and lifts his chin a little as he sneers at me.
“You best remember that, Shrike.”
“OK, we got a problem here,” Ronin says in my ear. “There’s a mess of f**king reporters inside the church now. We need that car.”
“I’ve lost Ashleigh,” Ford says, just as Ronin finishes.
“What?” we say together. Both Scott and Ryan are looking at me funny.
“I’ve lost contact. The car stopped in an alley, two blocks east of downtown. I’m on my way, maybe she ran out of gas again.”
“Call her, Ford,” I say out loud, even though both Ryan and Scott can hear me clear as day. I hold my hand up to their questioning looks.
“I did, she’s not answering.”
“I need that car, Spencer. We need to get out of here. I’ve got Rook and Kate in the bathroom.”
“She’s not here,” Ford says.
“What?”
“Rook?” Ronin calls. “Rook?”“What the f**k is happening? Ford? Ronin?”
“Ashleigh’s gone,” Ford growls.
“Rook and Kate are gone too. I put them in the bathroom and they’re gone!”
I look over at Drake and he’s smiling. “Paybacks, Mr. Shrike, are always a bitch.”
I lunge at him, swing mid-leap, and my fist crashes against the side of his jaw. His head swings in this exaggerated motion, almost like I’m watching in slow-mo, and then we both hit the ground. I sit up, straddle his chest and start whaling. “Where the f**k are they!” I pound on his face, one punch after the other. “I will kill you—”
My oxygen is cut off as an arm wraps around my throat, and then I’m being dragged off Drake.
Scott leans down, rolls Drake over and picks him up off the ground. It’s only then that I realize the person holding me back is Ryan. I stop struggling and he lets go. “That motherfucker,” I say, walking towards Scott as he lifts Drake up off the ground. “That mother—”
Scott’s hand darts out and catches my fist before it connects with Drake’s face again. “Get lost, Spence. Now.”
“Come on, dude,” Ryan says. “We gotta go.”
I shake my head and point at Drake. “If you have them, Drake… if you’re involved, just remember your own famous last words. Paybacks aren’t a bitch, man. Revenge, now that’s a motherfucking bitch.”
Scott whirls Drake around and pushes him towards the open door to the backseat of the cop car, but Drake plants his feet and calls out over his shoulder.
“You best be thinking about revenge, Shrike. Because it’s about to jump up and bite you in the face.”
And then Scott pushes down on his head and shoves him into the car, closing the door behind him. He points to me. “Get out, now. Or I’ll arrest you too.”
Ryan pulls me back to our bikes, and I go through the motions. My mind spinning. Ashleigh, gone. Kate, gone. Rook, gone. I pull out my phone and press Ronnie’s face.
It doesn’t even ring.
But the operator tells me that this phone is no longer in service.
Chapter Thirty-One
VERONICA
I breathe erratically for several seconds and I swear to God, if I have a panic attack now, I might as well just give it up. Come on, brain. Work with me here. I’m scared, but I cannot afford to freak out like this. Everything in my body is telling me to run away. To hide, call for help, get the hell out of here. My heart rate jacks up just thinking about these possibilities.
But that’s feeding into the panic. I’m safe here. Bobby and that other guy are gone. I know they’re not coming back right away, I know the plan. I’m safe here. Running away would actually make things worse for me.
So I take a deep breath and move the screen aside so I can squirm my way out from under the stairs.
The woman is crying. Her chest is heaving with the effort because it’s almost impossible to cry with the restraints she has on her mouth, not to mention her hands being tied behind her back make it more difficult to breathe. And I can sense that she’s feeling this limitation. Because I’m feeling it right along with her.