He put the safety back on and tucked the gun in his pants. I picked up my crutches and walked toward the door, glancing over my shoulder at Lynn. He laughed to himself, no doubt thrilled that I wasn’t going to be running away with this boot on my foot.
Denver stalked in my direction from the laser room and the man fell back a little. He gave me a menacing glare, and I turned to Denver, struggling to appear calm.
“Where’s Peanut?”
“Huh?”
“Maizy,” he said. He was sweating and had an anxious look on his face. “Something isn’t right.”
“Everything’s fine, Denver. Lynn took her home. She… she had a stomachache. That’s all.”
His brows pushed together, forming a vertical crease between them. “That it? Are you sure? It just feels like…”
“Go back to your game before you run out of time. Your hour will be up soon and we came all this way,” I said, trying to relax. The guy behind me had a gun, and I didn’t want to test how willing he was to use it on Denver.
“When did they leave?”
I tapped my crutch on his leg. “About five minutes ago. You know Lynn won’t answer her cell while she’s driving. They’re fine.”
Denver reluctantly walked back to the game room where the door had been left open. He searched the massive building with his eyes as if Maizy might appear out of the rafters. I wondered how he could have known something was wrong, but even more terrifying was that Maizy was nowhere in sight.
“Where is she?” I hissed, turning to look at the man.
“I want you to head out those doors,” he said, pointing toward the exit.
I wondered if I could knock him out with my crutches, but they didn’t weigh much and it would be too much of a risk if it meant Maizy getting hurt.
Enough people had been hurt already.
“Bring Sanchez out,” I demanded.
He tapped his fingers on the outside of his shirt, over the gun. I turned around, swinging on my crutches toward the door in a slow pace as I glanced over at the laser-tag entrance. I started to get visions of what could be going on in there and my heart sped up. Three of the guys had brought ski masks, fatigue pants, and combat boots to get into character. They were all armed with toy guns.
Except Sanchez.
“Everyone’s going to hear it if he goes on a rampage in there,” I said to Goatee, who shadowed behind me.
“Silencer,” was all he replied.
My heart palpitated and my knees got weak. Because I wasn’t watching where I was going, I tripped and fell on my stomach.
Goatee looked pissed, as if I’d done it on purpose. He grabbed my arms with bruising force, and I curled them against my body, trying to stay down.
“Get your hands off her,” a belligerent voice said. “Is this asshole bothering you?”
Three college-aged guys, who had surpassed their limit at the bar, crowded around us. I’d seen these types before, always starting shit with pool sticks and getting kicked out.
“Mind your goddamn business,” Goatee spat out.
Wrong thing to say to three drunk guys itching for a good old-fashioned fistfight. They grabbed the scruff of his collar and began to pound the crap out of his face. When his shirt rose, one found the gun and exclaimed, “Holy shit!” and took it out. A few people scrambled, searching for help.
I left the crutches behind and hurried toward the laser-tag room, putting light pressure on my foot.
I swung the door open and entered a dark hallway with doors on opposite sides. I limped to the door on the right and slowly opened it. Everything was illuminated by black lights, and a fog machine made the air dense. I heard the occasional clattering of a fake gun in the distance and feet stomping across the floor from the upper level.
Three levels, Denver had said. I quickly glanced down, glad I’d worn a color that didn’t show up in the black light, although I had no idea what my hair might have looked like.
I cautiously moved through the room and hid behind a corner wall with holes that allowed me to look around.
Someone snatched my arm and I spun around to slap him when Denver caught my wrist.
“What are you doing in here?”
“Someone has Maizy. I don’t think she’s inside. He’s probably armed.”
Denver dropped his toy gun and his upper lip twitched. It was a scary look I’d never seen before. “Who?”
“Sanchez. He’s in here looking for Reno.”
Denver wiped his hand over his mouth. “Nobody ever beats Reno at this game. Look, I’m going after Maizy. You shouldn’t be in here, but if you’re one of those chicks who doesn’t listen, then make sure you warn everyone you pass and tell them what’s up.” He unstrapped his vest and it dropped to the ground. “They’ll spread the word and get everyone out without tipping him off. If you see Sanchez, scream like hell. Reno will find you real quick. You got it?”
I nodded, shocked he hadn’t just told me to get out. Denver was looking out for his pack, but his priority was Maizy. Lexi had told me that he had taken over as a watchdog—a term they used for a Shifter who acts as a protector for a child or young woman. It’s instinctual, and I could see it by the fire in his eyes.
Denver walked off and I made my way up the ramp.
Chapter 24