Page 9 of Intertwined Souls

Grayson chuckles softly on the other end of the line. “Yes, beautiful. Today is Saturday. They got here while we were at the beach. Remember they were coming for a BBQ this weekend?”

“Oh, yeah,” she mumbles flatly, eyes still distant.

“Anyway, they figured out what he was given. Or, well, their best guess anyway. I haven’t had a chance to go check yet, so I’m not sure what it was, but Sugar popped in and said he is going to be okay.” He hesitates for a moment before asking, “Is Harley?”

I clear my throat. “We’re wrapping up here and then heading back. Not okay, but we will rally. Together.” I emphasize the last word while using my free hand to guide Harley’s chin up and make her look at me.

She doesn’t acknowledge me, but she also doesn’t pull away, so I’ll take that as a win.

After ending the call with Gray, Harley’s shoulders lose a tiny bit of tension as she helps me grab the gas cans from the bed of the truck. I can see her eyeing me, but I don’t ask her anything, giving her a chance to voice whatever it is that is on her mind.

When we get back up by the front door, we set the cans down and wait for Rage to come out.

“Why are you so calm?” Harley questions with a small raise of her brows, the biggest reaction I have seen from her yet—improvement.

I chuckle at her question, “Oh, babe, this is me after the explosion. I had my chance to calm down. And now that we have you and Cade safe and sound, I feel even better.”

Before she can say anything else, an agonized scream echoes from inside the building. I wince as the door opens several moments later and Rage walks out, blood all over his shirt, arms, and hands.

Glancing at Harley as we pick up the cans and start towards Rage, I say, “Oh, and by the way, I have made the executive decision for everyone that we will all be getting trackers implanted under our skin.”

Flashing her a grin, I pick up my speed and hand off a gas can to Rage, who looks more than pleased with himself.

“Ryker—” Harley sputters behind me.

“Come on, babe, buildings and people to burn. Get busy dumping that all over this shit hole.” I wiggle my can for emphasis.

“You guys soak the outside. I’ll go inside. I don’t think either of you will want to see what it looks like in there,” Rage says with a small tilt of his lips.

“Please stop talking. You're going to give me nightmares.” I shiver and run a hand down the front of my jeans; I need to make sure my dick is still there because I’m pretty sure it might shrivel up and hide if Rage doesn’t shut up.

It takes up about five minutes to get everything covered in gas. Rage being the last to come back out pours the remainder of his gas in a path from the front door towards where we stand.

Pulling a lighter from his pocket, he flicks it open and holds it out to Harley. “No pressure. But I thought I would offer it to you first.” He shrugs.

Without hesitation, Harley snags it from his hand, lights it, and tosses it down onto the gas. Like a slow-motion movie montage, we stand shoulder to shoulder and watch the fire rise and inch towards the warehouse before working its way up the walls and engulfing the entire building.

We continue to watch for a few minutes until even more screams ring out, these ones deafening and guttural. Yeah, David’s not getting out of this one. I can’t help but wince as he continues screeching in agony.

Being burned alive… Jesus Christ.

Rage exhales and looks at Harley. “Come on, we need to head out before anyone spots the fire and calls it in.”

He steps back, heading towards the truck while Harley keeps staring at the building holding the man who killed and defiled her mother. I grab her hand and intertwine our fingers together as a single tear falls down her cheek, directly over her scar.

“Burn in hell, motherfucker,” Harley whispers.

Chapter Three

Harley

Walking back into the club when Rage, Ryker, and I get back, it’s eerily quiet. Carly and the one prospect they have left, Parker, are behind the bar, and then a few of the members sit at the stools nursing beers.

Gripping Ryker’s wrist, I don’t even have to ask before he gestures towards the hall that goes down to the basement. Instead of heading downstairs, we enter a door across from the stairs that opens up to a small medical room. There are three beds, along with some random medical equipment and cabinets lining the wall across from the beds.

Cayden lays in the bed closest to the door, while Doc is standing on his opposite side, reading over something on a clipboard.

Walking over to the bed, my hands hover over him, unsure of where to touch or even if I should. This is my fault, after all. He would’ve never ended up here if it wasn’t for me coming into his life. Tears burn the backs of my eyes, but I blink them away.

---