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Page 18 of Fall of Hellfire (Hellfire Society #3)

fifteen

ALI

T wo weeks. That’s how long I’ve been cooped up in this small cabin with three insanely hot and completely unstable men.

Okay, so really just one is unstable, while the other two are mildly annoyed with the daily play-by-plays Riot gives us about how he plans to treat people on his hit list. I think it’s amusing, often adding in my own two cents while the others are just over it.

When I had asked them what they plan to do with their fathers, I was told it was going to be an eye-for-an-eye situation. Whatever that meant.

My thigh is mostly healed. At least it stopped bleeding daily.

Most of my bruises and cuts have faded and my eye is no longer a bloodshot red color.

Overall, I’m feeling more like myself before the incident, which is perfect timing because we are heading back to the city.

Tomorrow all the guys have meetings with potential allies, men and business partners that have previously backed their fathers.

So, there was no way in hell I was going to get left behind because I wasn’t “healed” enough.

Plus, phase one of my revenge plan starts today.

Excitement stirs in my stomach as we near the city limits. I’ve been waiting years to pay back my so-called family for all that they had done for me. Although, they did make me the woman I am today. I should probably thank them for it.

Pulling out my phone, I check the time and grin to myself.

I shoot off a text to Shane to make the call.

Yesterday I gave him a call. The moment he heard my voice, I could hear the relief in his.

It made me feel like a shitty friend for not calling him sooner.

I knew that the guys let him know I didn’t die, but I suppose it’s different when you hear it for yourself.

We talked for a few minutes, him mostly telling me I scared the shit out of him and to never do that again before I got down to business.

I looped him in on my plan before asking for his help once again.

Honestly, I was a bit surprised he immediately agreed, no questions asked.

It actually made me tear up. We were never close friends; I mean, I fought and he made money off me.

We saw each other almost daily at the gym, but we were never the hanging out type.

I didn’t quite understand why he was helping us still, especially after knowing what the guys and I were now tangled up in, but I appreciate it.

After I told him what I needed from him, we hung up and I told the guys we needed to make sure Shane was compensated for all that he’d done.

Of course they agreed, and I already had an idea of what we could do for him.

SHANE: Meeting set. 1 hour.

SHANE: Good luck. Stay safe.

“Phase two is a go,” I tell the SUV. Arsen is up front sitting shotgun, while Cash drives.

Riot is in back with me, sharpening a wicked looking blade.

“The diner on the east side of Redmon Street in one hour.” Cash nods before heading in that direction.

In the meantime, I pull up an aerial map of the area to view all the possible ins and outs.

There weren’t many, with the area being on the edge of the main city.

There were only three ways you could come in or leave, which gave us a chance to park and get our bearings before our guest arrived.

Plus, we needed to be ready for any possible ambushes that might present themselves.

We had stopped at a rest stop just out of the city to pick up a duffle that Riot somehow had dropped off.

It was full of weapons, which only made him look like a kid on Christmas as he pulled each one out to check it over before passing them out.

When he tried to hand me a 9mm Glock, I shook my head and went for the throwing knife set instead.

What can I say, I like sharp, shiny things.

He made me strap an extra blade to my back, but I wasn’t complaining.

When we got to the street the diner was on, Cash pulled into an alleyway and parked.

“Okay, we have about thirty minutes to get in position. Ali, are you sure you want to go through with this?” He eyed me, not with concern but more of just wanting to make sure I’m ready to do this.

I just give him a nod. “So, you will wait in the bathroom until one of us gives you the cue. Then it will be your move.” Giving him another nod, we all check our weapons before getting out.

“Riot and Arsen, you both go through the back. Make sure it’s all clear that way.

Ali, you and I will go through the front.

” Another nod because suddenly I can’t speak.

My nerves have skyrocketed, and I’m suddenly very self-conscious.

Leaving the cabin this morning, I made a huge decision.

One that I was confident in only hours ago.

I chose to wear a white tank top and black jean shorts, where my new mark would be exposed and on full display for the world to see.

I figured if I showed the world I accepted this new me, no one could hold it against me.

It would be a statement piece, something to scream that I’m a badass bitch who's been through shit without having to speak a single word. It would also be a blatant fuck you to Ethan when he saw I wasn’t hiding it, that he failed in breaking me.

I actually had plans to make it a piece of art after Riot made a poorly timed comment the other day that he wished he was the one that marked my body.

It gave me an idea to turn something that I thought was ugly into something more.

Something that I wanted, but until then it was what it was. A reminder of why I was here today.

Cash must realize my unease because he grabs my hand, giving it a squeeze.

“Head up, Bunny, and middle finger to the world. If anyone says anything or even looks at you wrong, we will take care of them.” He places a quick kiss on my temple before pulling me away from the alleyway.

With that short and sweet pep talk, I do as he says, pulling back my shoulders and holding my head high as we make our way to the small diner.

Time for phase two and to have a little fun.

W ithin minutes we were walking up to the diner, hand in hand.

As we enter, a waitress greets us, nodding to the suspiciously empty room and telling us to take a seat anywhere.

I give Cash a side eye, letting him know this seemed odd.

He nods his head once before leading us to the back corner booth.

“Take your spot.” Then with a kiss on my temple, he smacks my ass in the direction of the bathroom.

As I head in that direction, I let my eyes roam the small space.

The diner isn’t anything special. Honestly, I’m surprised the place is still open.

It’s one of those places that you only go to because you’ve been coming here all your life.

Black and white checkered floors that have seen better days.

Grime permanently staining the white tiles.

Red, cracked, and faded pleather four-seater booths line three walls in a U shape.

A short laminate counter with black stools sitting in front of it is placed in the center of the room, framing a drink and coffee station.

The kitchen and serving window take up three-quarters of a wall, while the last quarter has a door that leads to the restrooms. In all, it’s an unassuming place.

Not a diner I would go out of my way to get a burger and milkshake at.

The only reason we are meeting here is because Richard Black’s name is on the lease, which makes me think he could have been using this place for some of his shadier dealings.

I make my way to the restroom to wait for the signal.

I came up with this plan, it was to lure Ethan out, but I had a feeling it would have been a lot harder than just a phone call from someone claiming to have information on my whereabouts.

So, I decided to use the next best target.

Someone who would go out of their way to get information on me because she now hated my guts.

Miranda Black. I heard what dear ole step mommy said.

How she wanted my head on a platter, but Ethan doesn't want that.

I wonder if she knows what a twisted and sick fucker her little boy is.

I doubt it, Miranda is a vain bitch and only ever cared about herself.

That's where Shane came in. He made a call to her, stating he knew my whereabouts and that all he wanted was to be compensated for his information.

Now here we are, moving into phase two of my plan.

I doubt it will take much to get under her skin or for her to call in Ethan to save her from me.

I bet she thinks he would save her over me, but I have a feeling his sick obsession goes a lot deeper than we see.

My thigh is proof of how unstable he is.

The bathroom is a single stall basic unit.

A sink, dirty mirror, and toilet fill up the small space.

Heading for the mirror, I peer at myself for a long second.

Like, really look at myself. I look the same but so different after the last few weeks.

My face is bare of the normal light makeup I would wear out and about.

The bruises have faded, but most of the damage is still skin deep.

Turning on the cold water, I splash my face a couple of times before drying it with a paper towel.

I'm not sure how long I continue to stare at my reflection, but my phone vibrating in my back pocket pulls my attention.

Pulling out the device, I read the screen.

CASH: Game time.

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