They want Ollie. And they can’t have him.
I run to the back door, but it’s locked. Pounding on it does shit for me, so I move on. I go along the back, opposite of where I saw men coming from as my reasoning for choosing this side. I know the club has a garage next to the clubhouse. If we can’t get into the club, maybe I can chance our luck at the garage and either find a weapon or a ride to get us the hell out of here.
Ollie sticks close and does what I’ve trained him to do, keeping his eyes open and his head down. We’ve done this before, just not to this extent. At the most, it was four guys. Having three SUVs bust in and who knows how many men get out isn’t something we prepared for. We also never planned to be with friends before. But the club is all that and then some. Some are even more than friends, if we have the time to label them. But we don’t, so I push on.
I slow as we come to a break between the buildings, sliding with my back to it before looking out. I see both Hounds and mafia suits on the ground, some moving, others not. The SUVs are still there, but it’s pretty damn quiet.
I look back to Ollie and give him a chin lift, the only sign he needs before we run to the next building. We make it with no one shooting at us, and I try this back door. It’s open, so I pull it slowly, glancing in quickly to see it’s empty before pulling Ollie in and shutting the door behind us with limited noise.
I’ve seen enough horror movies to know that just because you think you’re alone doesn’t mean you are. We keep low and go quietly. We pass one workbench, and I grab the wrench resting on top. It won’t kill anyone, but hopefully it’ll distract them enough if I have to use it on them to get Ollie out of the way. My only job is to keep him safe, and I will proudly go down swinging to do that.
The shop has four bays, three with cars in them and a bike in the fourth. Staying low, we make for the office that I see is close to the main door. I’m betting a Hound left a gun or two in there. One thing I know about Hounds, they don’t pack light.
We barely make it halfway before one bay opens, and Ollie and I scrunch down behind a Ford Focus. We keep low as we watch two suits walk in, heading for the office, talking in Russian. I motion for Ollie to head back and go out the door we just came in. We’ll find another way.
He opens the door, going first, then pausing on the side of the building while I grab the door and shut it slowly, keeping my eyes on the two inside to make sure they don’t see us go out.
The second I turn to Ollie, I’m sucker punched again, but this time with the butt of a gun. I go down hard, blood spewing from my nose that I know is broken. I look to Ollie, who’s fighting, but a guy has a hand over his mouth and the other wrapped around him, holding him off the ground. The guy’s double the size of any freaking human, so he dangles Ollie like a rag doll. His friend, the asshole who hit me, talks to him in Russian before the guy takes off with Ollie.
“No,” I cry as I reach out on instinct for my kid, only to get kicked in the head and fall back.
I shake myself out as I roll over and use the wall to get up, keeping the wrench behind my back, hoping he hasn’t seen it.
“Give him back,” I say after I spit out the blood in my mouth.
“Oh look. Little girl thinks she can be big and bad, no?” His Russian accent is thick with confidence, faking me grit my teeth in agitation. Fucking hate that accent. Makes me want to cut off my ears when I hear it.
“Drop that gun and we’ll really see who’s bad.”
He smirks, so I goad him some more.
“What? Can’t do it? Already know you’ll lose like the others who’ve come before you?”
“Oh please. You just a little girl. You know nothing about fighting.”
“That’s what your comrades thought. Before I ended all their lives.” I smile, knowing blood is on my teeth, as I taste the tang of copper in my mouth from the stream flowing from my nose.
His smirk drops as he takes a step forward, and I swing, using everything I have to smash this guy’s head out of the park with my wrench of a bat. He goes down fast and doesn’t move. I grab the gun he drops and run after Ollie.
I can hear him screaming, fighting. As I make it out of the building, I see him being pushed into the back of the last SUV. I fire my gun, aiming for the goon and the car. I might not have perfect aim, but I know how to avoid hitting my kid.
The ground and sides around me light up with bullets. One catches me in the other arm I wasn’t shot in last time. I keep firing, but I take another hit to my leg and go down fast. I can hear Olliecalling my name. I see him crying, but the ringing is getting louder. I’m still pulling the trigger, even after I feel the clip empty. More dirt kicks up around me as bullets are fired at me.
I look down and see blood coming out of me, but I don’t feel it. Not anymore. Not as Ollie’s door is shut, and the SUV pulls out of the compound.
I manage to stand, stumble to my knees, then scream as I force my legs to take my weight and start walking after the vehicle.
Another bullet hits me, and I spin, but before I can touch the ground, someone grabs me and pulls me tight.
“Milly! Milly, talk to me.”
Bass is screaming at me, and he looks so scared and in control all at once. His eyes pull me in, and I put my hand on his cheek.
“They took Ollie.” I rub his skin to feel it because I feel nothing else. Ollie’s gone, and the world can’t exist without him in it.
He grabs my hand. I watch him pull it close. There’s blood all over it, but he doesn’t care as he kisses my open palm. “I know. I’ll get him back. I swear I’ll get him back.”
“He’s all that matters,” I say as I close my eyes. Hating myself, my failure. I can’t look at him and see him hate me, too, for failing.
