Page 17 of Twisted Empire

CHAPTERSEVEN

Slade

Beckett paced the room, making one call and then another, delivering his orders in a taut but steady voice. Even when clearly upset, he carried himself with so much authoritative confidence that I couldn’t help thinking I wanted to be him when I grew up, even though the guy was only a couple of years older than me.

As he finally lowered the phone to shove it into his pocket, he turned toward us.

“What’s happening?” Maddie asked quickly, her pale face tight with concern. “Are your people okay?”

Of course that would be her first thought—the human lives on the line. A pang of affection ran through my chest alongside my jangling nerves.

Beckett shook his head. “Not all of them, and none of them might be if I don’t get out there quick. My family has a farm not far from here that we use for stashing goods when we need a temporary holding spot. Doom’s Seed must have figured that out, and his people are trying to ransack the place.”

Shit. “And some of your men were there?” I said.

“Yeah. A bunch of them were on the property handling a new shipment. Two are already down. The rest managed to get inside one of the buildings and barricade the entrance, but now they’re stuck. It’s a fucking siege. And even if we only lose the items in those buildings, they’re valuable—it’ll shatter the trust of the clients who were counting on getting their purchases.”

He shoved a hand back through his blond hair, rumpling the normally sleek strands, and turned toward the door. “I’ve called as many reinforcements as I can to take on the attackers, but the men here at the house can get out there fastest—and I need to go with them. Keep their spirits up, show that we’re in this together. I can’t let my people face this kind of shit alone.”

Those words only solidified the respect I’d come to feel for this guy, regardless of his criminal associations. Beckett was good at what he did—and he clearly tried to handle things in much better ways than assholes like this Doom’s Seed prick. I didn’t like the idea of him getting screwed over—especially when it was happening partly because he’d tried to help us out.

I sprang to my feet with a surge of conviction. “We’ll help too—we’ll do whatever we can.”

I’d already known Logan and Dexter would agree with me on that. They both stood too, their expressions determined.

“Absolutely,” Logan said.

“And even though you probably didn’t mean me,” Maddie said, getting up with a swish of her pale hair over her shoulders, “you aren’t leaving me behind. There’s got to be some way I can pitch in.”

Beckett glanced back at us, a darker shadow crossing his face. “This could get pretty bad. They’re actively shooting at anyone they can, and we’ll be the first ones on the scene.”

Logan flexed his shoulders. “Then let’s go show them that they can’t mess with you without consequences. You didn’t turn your back on us even when we were being jerks to you, so we’re sure as hell not leaving you in the lurch.”

Maddie nodded. “We’re in this together,” she said quietly. “All of this is our fight too. I want to see Doom’s Seed taken down as much as anyone.”

More, no doubt, given what we’d figured out about her dad’s death. I shot her a tight but supportive smile.

Beckett searched our expressions as if looking for any sign of uncertainty. He didn’t want to waste time on arguments, I could tell.

“All right,” he said, marching toward the door. “Come on. We’ll get equipped in the van. I already have the men downstairs prepping it.”

We hustled down the stairs and out a back door, where we found a van larger than the one we’d taken before idling. One of Beckett’s employees saluted him from the driver’s seat, another poised next to him.

“This bunch is coming too?” the driver asked with obvious confusion.

“They’re with me,” Beckett said. “They’re pretty handy in a fight. Let’s get out there and defend what’s ours.”

We leapt into the back of the van where two more guys were crouched with a large canvas duffle bag at their feet. They must have heard Beckett’s exchange with the driver, because they didn’t question our arrival. One of them jerked open the zipper on the bag and put the contents on display.

“Grab whatever you want first, boss. We’ve got lots of extra ammo too.”

“Perfect.” Beckett motioned us over. “Pick out whatever weapons you’ll be most comfortable with. We should all go in armed.”

Logan pulled his pistol out from his pocket. “I think I’ll stick with the firearm I’m already familiar with.”

“Fair enough.” Beckett turned to Dexter, who’d come up beside him, swaying with the swerving of the van down the driveway. “How about you?”

Dexter knelt down to catch his balance and studied the array of weaponry with typical precision. He pulled out a pair of long, deadly-looking knives and tested them in his hands.

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