Chapter Thirty - Spencer

 

I sit at my desk for the rest of the afternoon. Ford calls again at four thirty. Ronin left with Rook and Kate. Ashleigh left with Ryan. He’s already dropped her off at the gas station down the road. Ford’s got five pairs of eyes on her alone, so we’re both watching a silent feed of her in real time. I watch the cab pull into the gas station parking lot, and then head out, grabbing my new helmet off my toolbox as I walk past and enter the back garage. The guys are all waiting. They know something is up, but they keep silent. In fact, it’s so fucking quiet in this garage with no camera teams around or Director Larry barking out commands, it makes me uneasy.

“You guys don’t have to come.” I stare at Ryan when I say it.

He smiles at me. “Just shut your trap and start your bike, Shrike. Let’s go rile Fonzie up.”

We all kick the bikes over at the same time and the garage is alive with the thunder of power. I push the button on the opener and the doors lift up. We wait until they are halfway, and then the four of us pour out of the building looking every bit as badass as we sound. The crowd that was out front is running our way and Ryan gives them a little salute as the door closes behind us and we exit out onto Maple Street, then stop for the light at College.

We’ve got the attention of the entire downtown. Heads are peeking out of doors, a line of people waiting for coffee at the FoCo Cinema across the street all turn round simultaneously, and when the light turns green, car alarms go off from the noise we’re making. We cross College and head down Riverside.

I tap the Bluetooth attached to my ear and wait.

“I’m here,” Ford says after a few seconds.

“Keep me updated,” I say back. I’m not sure if he can hear me over the roar of the bikes, but that’s the best I can do at the moment.

“Scott’s on alert. He’ll start driving over in eight minutes. Ash just pulled up in the cab. The whole garage is looking at her. Fonzie is making his way over, asking her if she needs help. I need your ETA so I can talk myself out of going down there and kicking his ass for talking to her.”

“Five minutes,” I say back.

“Well, hurry the fuck up.”

“Where’s Ronin?”

“I’m here,” Ronin says. “We’ve got Kate and we just left our apartment building heading south. We’ll be inside in about… five.”

“Any trouble?” Ford asks Ronin.

“Not right away, but yeah. The cameras are practically jumping out of the bushes right now. But I’ve got it covered. We’re a block away now. You OK, Rook?”

Ford and I stay silent as we try to hear her answer, but we can’t catch it.

“Hey, back off!” Ronin yells to someone in their vicinity. “I’ve got a camera too, asshole.” Ronin goes quiet for a second and then speaks low into his phone. “I can see your security, Ford, so we’re good.”

“If those reporters touch Kate, I’ll kill them. What’s your ETA now, Spencer?”

“We’ve arrived, you freak. Can’t you hear us coming?” Because I can—our bike noise comes through the ear piece connecting me to Ford. “Let’s start some trouble.”

“Ashleigh is still filling her tank. Hurry, Kitten,” Ford urges her from afar. “Fonzie is looking your direction, Spencer. Here he comes, get ready.”

The four of us pull up into the industrial complex driveway that winds around the various buildings and then make the left turn that leads to Cikes Bikes. I still have to shake my fucking head at that shit. There was no name under that picture Ford showed me of him and his pedophile father, so I bet that’s not even his real name. Asshole.

Drake and his team of seven or eight are all walking down the driveway once we turn into their little parking lot. I look past him at Ashleigh, who is still messing with the gas can.

The boys and I stop and rev our bikes, letting the douchebags come to us.

“I’ve got the bot into the bay,” Ford says in my ear.

“We’re inside the church,” Ronin adds.

“We’re a go here too,” I chime in. I nod my head at Fonzie as he comes up talking shit. Ryan and I look at each other and smile and then Griff and Fletch shut their bikes down and get off.

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 fuck is going on?” Scott asks.

“Hey, we pulled up to check things out and these assholes 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 fucking 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 fuck 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 fuck 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.