Forged(19)

Gage.

We’re in a cramped bedroom with an extremely low ceiling. I’m on one bed, and he’s on another, both feet planted on the skinny patch of floor that separates us. No longer in the dimly lit factory, I can see he has a black eye and wonder if Bree managed to clock him last night. The thought almost makes me smile. Then I hear the unmistakable sound of waves against a hull. We must be on water after all. Going who knows where.

“You’re a snake, ratting us out like that.”

“You act like it was easy,” he says, “but you’ve seen how Nick operates. He had me deliver your lodging instructions in code, for God’s sake! It took months of eavesdropping before I even caught wind of his vague plans to infiltrate some Order facility, how the infamous Gray Weathersby and a few Expats might play a part. So I passed along what I heard, and that pretty brunette got planted in town as a lure.”

Gage draws a smoke from his jacket pocket and lights it.

“But then,” he continues, “this is the best part: I was sent to meet your team! No one was very forthcoming with information—Nick’s got everyone worked into a paranoid frenzy—and the chopper had exactly zero useful information stashed onboard, but I wasn’t concerned. The team was finally in town. I knew you’d be moving soon, so I had the lure transferred closer to the docks. And when that blond fireball showed up at the Wheelhouse last night, I figured she’d spill everything if I buttered her up enough, showed her a good time. But she turned out to be quite the bitch. Called me a pig and everything.”

“I’m sure you deserved what she dished out and then some.”

He leans closer, blows a cloud of smoke directly into my face. “Let’s remember who’s tied up and who’s calling the shots. Show a little respect.”

“Right, because you’re clearly so deserving of it.”

“Your brother and the brunette are above. If you want them to stay alive, you’ll watch your tongue.” He smiles at my newfound silence, the expression wicked. Why did he seem so likable yesterday when I first met him?

“Nick and his codes,” Gage muses. “The funny thing is he thinks they’ll save him, but whether it was the first, third, or thirtieth option your team decided on, it would still have been one of his hideouts: the restaurant, the bookshop, his sister’s, that new post he’s working to set up above the Wheelhouse.” He taps his smoke against the rim of a near-empty glass between his feet. Ash swirls into the liquid. “But thanks to your brother spouting off about getting back to the bookshop, I don’t even have to visit Nick’s places one at a time. That twitchy moron won’t suspect anything until it’s too late, leaving the perfect window for me to visit the shop when I get home and finish the job. You will be back in Order hands, the man they know as Badger will be dead, and I’ll retire a rich man of twenty-two.”

“Why?” It’s the only thing I can manage to get out. “You’re from AmWest. Why would you help the Order?”

Gage stands, hunched slightly on account of the low ceiling. “I’m not helping anyone but myself. Nick ran me out of business and then had the nerve to act like he was doing me a favor by taking me on his crew. Bossing me around. Paying me next to nothing. Acting like I was too stupid to handle anything important. I can’t wait to see the look on his face when he realizes I worked against him. His last thought before I squeeze the trigger will be that I pulled this off right from under his pointed, greasy nose.”

I see everything in that moment: Gage talking about clientele falling to the Order, because he is the leak. Badger being so skittish and on edge. How he stepped out immediately after we arrived so that he could visit one of his crew. Armed. Ready to stop the leak. It was uneventful. Probably could have skipped the whole thing. Badger went after the wrong guy.

“He knew something was up,” I spit out. “Badger knew someone on his team was defecting.”

“Ah, but look who’s on a boat about to hand a fugitive to the Order, and look who’s still back in Pine Ridge with a slightly smaller crew.”


The boat’s motor slows before Gage visits me again. He secures a blindfold over my eyes and hauls me above deck.

We are shoved and shuffled to the edge of the boat. I assume we, but it’s possible Emma and Blaine aren’t heading where I am. Or that they’re already dead. I strain to hear anything of use, but only Gage’s voice is audible over the wind. Mist from the Gulf blows onto my front, icy pricks against my nose and neck.

“I’ll report back when Badger’s taken care of. If the others are with him, do you want them alive?’

An answer I can’t make out.

“No, that’s fine. I have no problem wiping the place clean. Happy to be of service.”

Something mumbled.

“Tonight,” Gage says sternly. “I’ll do it as soon as I’m back. And then I get the rest of the pay? Good, good.”

I’m shoved over the edge of our boat and hauled onto another. My shin bangs something. Hard. I keep waiting for the blast of a firearm, but it never comes. That would be too easy. They didn’t go through all this trouble just to kill me.

Gage’s boat roars to life, then fades out across the Gulf.

In the darkness beneath my blindfold, I picture Charlie complaining about eggs, and Aiden chasing Rusty, and Clipper’s blushing face at the mention of Riley. Sammy cracks a joke about my tardiness, saying Blaine and I can find our way through a forest but manage to get lost among marked streets. Bree is unamused. She turns to Badger, scowling, and says something is wrong. Adam agrees.