Hutch ran the rest of the way to the security office, his boots thudding along the floor. He had to get Sanctum functioning again. If he did it quickly, they might have a chance to save Kyle and MaeBe.
The backup security was working, as the keypad that locked the security room was lit. Hutch punched in his code and slammed into the office.
Adrenaline pumped hard through his body as he set the gun on the security desk and brought up the cameras. They were all outdoor cameras, pointed to the front entrance, the back courtyard where the basketball court was, the parking lot, and the rooftop terrace. Tag would never allow his member’s privacy to be compromised, so there were no cameras inside the club. But he could make sure they didn’t have anyone coming up from behind. He didn’t think Jessica would have had time to map out more than the front entrance, though he supposed she could have hurt MaeBe enough to get her to talk.
MaeBe. Guilt sat in his gut as he raced through the code to bring the power back online. He’d asked MaeBe to get Noelle some clothes. He’d sent her alone because he hadn’t thought anything of it. He’d only been thinking about Noelle.
If MaeBe died, it was on him.
The power should have been on. Everything he was seeing said the system hadn’t been breached.
Fuck. She’d physically cut it. Or had the power company cut it. Well, she loved to make deals with other corporations. She would be using a cell jammer, and he would have to physically take that out, too. She hadn’t been able to hack his system. She’d tried but his walls had held.
She couldn’t get into the building unless…
Fuck. She wanted Kyle to come out because him coming out was her only way in. MaeBe couldn’t get them inside. She wasn’t on the board of Sanctum or an employee. Hutch had a keycard because he provided the club’s IT needs. Kyle didn’t work here, so they would have to get around him.
The breath knocked out of him as he looked to the screen and he saw Kyle take a bullet to the chest and fall forward.
The man who’d shot him moved quickly to catch the door before it closed. They hadn’t even given Kyle a chance to speak, much less offer them a bargain.
Because he wasn’t offering Jessica what she wanted.
Noelle.
She was coming for Noelle and Kyle was down.
Kyle might be dead.
He prayed Noelle would stay in the bathroom, that she’d done exactly as he’d asked and she’d left the laptop in the room so she couldn’t see what had happened to Kyle, couldn’t see how MaeBe tried to get to him, didn’t know they were dragging her away like she was meaningless.
Rage lit inside him because they were treating his people like they meant nothing. Like they were fucking prey.
He was going to show them what it felt like to be prey.
He knew this club like the back of his hand. He opened the desk drawer where he happened to know the dungeon monitor kept a set of knives. He rolled the kit out. The gun might be too loud, and it would give away his position. There were five men and Layne, who was also carrying a small pistol.
He wouldn’t hesitate. She’d walked into his house and threatened his people. She was a snake, and he was going to take her out.
He grabbed two small, sharp-as-fuck knives and the gun he would use if he needed it. He shoved one of the knives into the holster he had sewn into all of his boots. There was a shoulder holster for the gun wrapped around the chair. It was slightly too big, but it would work.
“Noelle, I’ve got your friend and I’m going to kill her. I already took care of that wannabe spy of yours. So you can show yourself or I’ll have my guys blow this whore’s purple head off. No one’s coming, by the way. I’ve taken over all the systems. There’s no alarm going out.”
Jessica Layne seemed to have her own PA system. A narcissist to the bitter end, she was.
Would Noelle have heard that? The rooms upstairs were pretty well insulated. Not enough that he couldn’t hear GN’R playing every time Charlotte and Big Tag decided to have a private session.
“I mean it, Noelle,” Jessica was saying. “I already took out pretty Kyle. I’m tired of this one crying. If you come out now and give me what Madison sent you, we can talk. Madison wouldn’t play the game. She wasn’t smart. You can be smarter. You know there’s a lot of money to be made.”
Hutch glanced at the screens and saw someone jumping the ten-foot fence that closed in the basketball court. Michael moved with the ease of a man who’d worked for one of the world’s premiere security teams for almost a decade. He hit the court in a crouch and then started moving for the door. Michael had been given a keycard earlier in the evening and used it to slide inside.