Page 102 of Mimic
“Where the fuck are we going?”
“I don’t know,” I cried, my hands locked on top of my head. “Wait! Johnny sent me a text; he shared his location with me.”
I handed my phone to Mimic.
“He’s moving. Do you think he’s following Kytten?”
“I would bet on it. No way Cash would let her go alone, not with the war on. Get on.”
Mimic swung his leg over his bike and started it up. I climbed on behind him, and we rode up to the gate. Archie opened it without question, and I wondered if he knew anything.
Johnny was only about twenty minutes ahead of us. We followed his path until we made it to a turnoff. We saw Johnny’s bike, but he wasn’t there.
“Where is he?” I asked, looking around.
“He left his bike, which means he thought it might be too loud. Let’s go.”
I climbed off the bike, and Mimic followed. We ran up the path until we saw the warehouse. There wasn’t much cover, but with the only windows on the second floor, we might be able to move in unnoticed.
We heard a woman yelling. “Go around back,” Mimic said, but when I went to move, he stopped me, handing me a knife. “They both die, Indie. I don’t want to put this on you. But I fucking need you. I have to save Rose.”
I kissed him hard. “You get your sister. I’ll take care of the bitch.”
I moved quickly and silently. Years of training took over. I was Kate Porter again. Only this time, this kill was on my terms. I was no longer locked in my subconscious, taking orders like a soldier. I didn’t know who this bitch was, but she dared to come after my family.
It was a mistake she would never make again.
On the back side of the warehouse, I found a hole in the wall. Sliding the knife into my boot, I crawled through the hole into what appeared to be an office.
I made my way to the door and slowly opened it, being sure not to make a sound. I had the element of surprise on my side. I slid my feet carefully along the concrete floor. Pallets and shipping boxes stacked up around the room aided my cover until I had the woman in my sight.
Then I saw him.
Dakota Stone.
I wanted him dead. What I wouldn’t give to make him my target, but what he did to Mimic was far worse than what he’d done to me. He was just one of many men who took from me what didn’t belong to them.
But what he took from Mimic was his security. He’d made him believe his mother didn’t love him, and, in my book, that was so much worse. Cuts and bruises healed. Physical scarswere medals of a battle hard fought. A symbol of survival. But emotional scars from years of manipulation and abuse, they never fully healed.
Words spewed back and forth. It was all white noise. My focus was on the woman. Dakota held a gun to Rose’s head. He used her body as a shield against an advancing Mimic, while I snuck up behind the woman.
Pulling my knife from my boot, I wrapped my arm around her shoulders, digging my knife into her side and then ripping it out. Covered in her blood, I held it to her neck.
“Tell me why I shouldn’t slice your neck from ear to ear?” My voice was cold, a darkness echoing through my words. I’d never been allowed to speak when I killed. Never been allowed to truly play with my prey.
The woman shrieked, drawing everyone’s attention. Dakota swung the gun in my direction, and I hid my body behind the woman. She was tall, but with a bleeding stab wound in her side, she didn’t have much strength.
“Meredith!”
“Do something, asshole. Shoot this bitch.”
My eyes swung between Dakota and Mimic. He was still advancing. His sister was his goal. I held the bitch in an iron grip as she clawed at my arm, but she wasn’t going anywhere. The blade pressed into her skin, causing her to hiss in pain.
Dakota backed toward the way I had come. I couldn’t block his exit unless I dropped the woman. I knew I couldn’t let her go, so I had to let him.
“Let go of my sister, Dakota.”
“You fucking pussy. You think you can take me? Think you’re faster than a gun?”
