Safe harbor, p.18
Safe Harbor, page 18
Cutter answers on the third ring. “What?”
“Somebody took Everly.”
“Shit. Are you sure?”
I wish I weren’t.
“Yes. There was a struggle. She left her purse and phone, and the screen was broken. The shop was unlocked and wide open, and her car is still outside.”
Cutter mumbles something under his breath. “Any idea who it was?”
I search the room as I wrack my brain. Rion wanders around, checking every corner of the place for anything that might help us pinpoint what happened or who took her.
Axle. That fucking douchebag.
“Her ex. He sent her a text message recently. Maybe he found her.”
“Let me know exactly where I need to go.”
There’s no hesitation. Cutter will destroy anything in his path to get to her. That’s not even a question.
But neither is what I have to do. “I'm coming with you.”
He growls low into the phone. “That's not a good idea, Preacher. You need to be at the warehouse.”
“Don't even start with me, Cutter. If it were Valentina, do you really think you would let me go without you.”
“This is different, Preacher. I'm a trained covert operative, and—”
“And I’m a former fucking CIA agent. I've been to The Farm. I know how to handle a weapon. I can take care of myself, and if you so much as fucking mention my leg, I will deck you the next time we’re in the same room together.”
Cutter is the most lethal and best trained of any of us, but if he thinks he’s going to stop me from going after her, he’s fucking insane.
Rion watches me from across the shop. I’m sure he agrees with Cutter, that my personal feelings here may get in the way of thinking clearly about what needs to happen, but he’s smart enough not to say it. Perhaps because he’s right in front of me and within fist distance.
Cutter sighs. “Fine. What do you want to do?”
“Go to the Devil Brothers’ clubhouse.”
“Fuck.”
We only had a chance to sketch out a preliminary avenue of attack on the compound. We hadn't anticipated going in this early. We thought we had time to get everything else figured out and let things calm down with the hacker situation before we went after the bastard who hurt Everly.
If we have to do it now, we have to do it partially blind.
I run a hand over my jaw and examine the evidence of Everly’s situation. “I know it’s not ideal. But we don’t have a choice. Tell Warwick and E what's going on. Bring everything we need. I'll meet you in Milwaukee.”
Rion approaches as I end the call and slide my phone and hers into my pocket.
He nods at me. “So, we’re going in?”
I bob my head. “We're going in.”
Nothing is going to stop me from bringing her home.
Cutter parks his SUV behind my truck a few streets over from the Devil Brothers’ headquarters. The dark, mostly industrial area gives us a modicum of cover. There shouldn’t be anyone around to see us preparing to go in.
Rion and I climb out of my truck and make our way back as Cutter, E, and Warwick move to meet us at the rear of Cutter’s SUV. He opens the tailgate and starts handing off all the tools we need to infiltrate the clubhouse.
He passes me a Glock. “Let's go over the plan one more time.”
We would've preferred a lot more time to plan this. Our missions are laid out to the last fucking detail. Every crack and crevice of that place and everything about everyone in it would normally be ingrained in the memories of the guys.
But sometimes, fate forces your hand. Sometimes, you have to rush into things a little faster than intended.
This guy fucking pushed me. I cannot…I will not let them hurt her again. I would rather die than let that happen.
Cutter turns to face all of us. “Based on my recon, there will be anywhere from ten to fifteen club members in the clubhouse at any time. Not to mention any girl who may be hanging around.”
“How are we going to handle bystanders?” The question comes from Warwick, but it's one we all have been wondering about.
If these girls are anything like Everly, they might not be there by choice. “We can't hurt them just because they're there.”
Cutter nods. “Agreed. Don't engage anyone who is female or not wearing a cut unless they engage you first or they’re armed. We aren’t taking any chances.” He opens the blueprints for the building I printed earlier when I still thought we’d have time to plan this properly. He lays it across the tailgate. “Two entrances. One at the back. One at the front.”
I lean over the blueprint and point to the back door. “Everly told me when Jimmy went in to get her, he used the back door. Apparently, it was damaged and never properly repaired.”
We all look to Cutter. He’s the one in charge of this op.
He looks at the blueprint. “That might've changed after the Jimmy incident, but I still think it's our best way in.”
Rion snorts. “And these guys don't seem too bright. My guess is they’re too stupid to shore up their defenses, even though an old man did manage to come in.”
That gets a chuckle from everyone, which cuts a little bit of the tension in the air but not mine. I can’t find any humor in anything right now. Not when Everly is in the hands of that man.
Cutter leans over to point at the blueprints. “I'll lead. Rion bring up the rear. Preacher and I will take the hallway to the left. Warwick, E, and Rion, you guys take the one to the right. They both circle around back to the main area in the center. We’ll meet you there if we haven’t found her.” He hands all of us the earbud radios. We pop them in then grab the NODS goggles from the case on the tailgate. “I'll cut the power, and then we go.”
We all pull on the goggles. The benefits they offer in the dark night don’t only help Cutter. They give us a leg up we’ll definitely need.
The walk to the clubhouse is the longest of my life. He’s had her for hours. Who knows what he's been doing to her, what they've been doing to her…
I shudder as we approach the back of the one-story building. Cutter hustles to the power box and cuts the line to the house. The building was mostly dark, anyway, but a few random lights go out on the exterior.
Cutter readies us at the door. A janky old lock is the only thing that separates us from the interior. And given the marks on the wooden jamb, it’s been broken open more than once. Rion passes Cutter a crowbar, and the door easily gives way.
Christ. That was almost too easy.
Rion was right. They are too stupid to fix their weaknesses.
We step inside. The eerie silence of the building settles over me. It's almost three in the morning, so it isn't unexpected, but it leaves me uneasy.
How are we going to find her? Please, God, if you’re listening, let her be okay. Give me guidance to locate her and get her out of here safely.
Rion, E, and Warwick split off to the right, and Cutter and I move to the first room on the left. The door stands ajar. We peer inside, the NODS giving us a tremendous advantage in the darkness.
One male sleeping with a naked female draped over him.
Not Everly.
Dammit.
The door to the next room is closed, but Cutter points above the jamb.
Jesus, these assholes have their names above the doors like a fucking college dorm.
It’s pathetic as shit, but it may be exactly what we need to find her without unnecessary bloodshed. The way Everly described it, there are some good guys in the club, guys who would never have let what Axle was doing to her continue. I’d hate to see them pulled into this when they had no idea what was going on behind their backs. As for the other fuckers who participated in her torture, I’ll have to deal with them another time.
We move down the hallway—one door, two doors, three doors—and turn the corner.
Pay dirt.
The name Axle is scratched into the wall above the door in front of us.
Cutter grabs the doorknob, turns it, and we push inside. The creaking door hinge has the guy in the bed bolting upright and shaking his head.
He rubs his eyes and squints into the darkness. “What? Who? What's going on?” His hand reaches for his nightstand.
Not gonna happen.
Cutter puts a bullet straight through his palm. The suppressor on the gun helps muffle the sound of the shot, but in these tight quarters, someone could have heard it. Which means, we don’t have a lot of time.
“Fuck!” He clutches his injured hand to his stomach and tries to reach his gun with his other one, but Cutter races forward, grabs him by the throat, and drags him from the bed.
I scan every inch of the room. Fear tears at my stomach.
No sign of Everly.
Where the hell is she?
I shove open the door to the attached bathroom, but there's no sign of her in there, either.
No. No. No.
The crying and blubbering from Axle is bound to wake the rest of the guys eventually.
We don’t have much time, but this bastard must have stashed her somewhere else.
Cutter hands him off to me. I return my gun to the holster at my hip and shove him against the wall, my hand tightening on his throat. As much as I want to strangle the life out of him right here, right now, I need to know where she is.
“Where the fuck is Everly?”
His eyes widen, and he grabs at my wrist with his uninjured hand. I release enough pressure for him to speak.
“What the fuck are you talking about? I don’t know where that bitch is.”
My fingers curl against his trachea, restricting his airway. “Oh really? Because the text messages you sent her say otherwise.”
He gulps against my hand, his body shaking. “Who…the fuck…are you?”
I get into his face, so close, I can smell the fear bursting from him. “I'm the guy who's going to make you pay for what you did to her.”
Despite my hand secured around his throat, he chokes out a laugh. “You’re a fucking…dead man. The guys are going to wake up and blow you the fuck away.”
Shit.
He's not wrong.
I glance at Cutter, where he stands near the door.
He nods at me. “We need to make this quick.”
I jerk Axle from the wall and slam him back against it. “I know you took her, so tell me where the fuck she is.”
His fingers dig into my wrist again. “Okay. Okay. I drove up to some shit little town in Wisconsin she was supposed to be crashing in. Went to the tattoo shop. She wasn't there.”
My heart sinks into my stomach. “What do you mean she wasn't there?”
I release a little of the pressure.
He gasps for breath and shakes his head. “The place looked deserted. I waited for like half an hour. I figured she would come back for something because her phone and purse were there, but she never showed, so I drove to the house where she was supposed to be staying, but she wasn't there either.”
Fucking hell.
I release him, and he slumps against the wall.
Axle massages his throat. “We had a party here tonight I needed to make it back for, so I decided I would go back up there for her tomorrow. I sent that message before I left. I was just fucking with her.”
“Motherfucker!” I return my hand around his throat and slam him against the wall again. “You fucked with her, and now, I'm going to fuck with you. You think it's fun to beat and rape women?”
He sputters and gags. “She wasn’t innocent. She fucking asked for it.”
My fist connects with his face, and blood splatters on the wall next to him. “You want to say that again, Axle?”
He coughs, and blood trickles from his mouth. He sneers at me. “I see she's got you wrapped up in that venus fly trap of a pussy. Well, you can have the dirty slut. I don't want her anymore, anyway.”
My fist connects again, sending his head back into the wall with a sickening crunch.
Fuck.
As much as I want to believe she's here so I can take her home with me, this asshole is telling the truth. If she were here, there's no reason she wouldn't be in this room with him. He wouldn't go through all that trouble to make up a lie to cover if he had her.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
I pull my gun from the holster and press the barrel against his temple. “If you're lying to me and she's here, I'm going to rip you apart limb from limb to give you the most agonizing death possible.”
He shakes his head and groans. “No, man, I don't have her.”
Excited yells float from down the hall. Shouts of warning.
Cutter motions toward the sounds. “We’ll have company soon.”
The pop of gunfire erupts from the other side of the building.
“Shit.” I glance at Axle. He may not have her, but he’s still a fucking monster. “You’re coming with us.”
Worst case scenario, I can use him as a bargaining chip to get the fuck out of here. The Devil Brothers won’t shoot one of their own if I’m using him as a human shield.
I drag him from the room and into the hallway behind Cutter. The radio in my ear crackles. “Headed your way. Four guys on us. Rendezvous at the door.”
Cutter heads back down the hallway toward the exit. I drag Axle behind me. A guy who’s stupid enough to stick his head out of his room earns a shot from Cutter to the head. He crumples to the floor, and we blow past him without a look back.
There’s no time to ponder the life Cutter just took or the moral ramifications of what we’re doing. All that exists is rage and urgency to find her.
E, Warwick, and Rion rush toward us from the other wing of the clubhouse.
Rion focuses on Axle. “Where is she?”
I grit my teeth. “Not here.”
“Are you sure?”
I give a bleeding Axle a once-over. “Yeah. He doesn't have her. I don't have a fucking clue where she is.”
A bullet hits the wall behind us, and everyone returns fire almost simultaneously.
Everly said, not all the guys in the club would've condoned what Axle and his buddies did. Some of these guys who are shooting may be innocent of the worst of it, but they still aren't anyone I'll feel bad about putting a few holes in anymore. Not when they start throwing bullets at us.
We make it to the back door, and everyone files out, leaving Cutter, Axle, and me.
I stare down the man who so brutally abused Everly. “You don’t deserve to live.”
Thou shalt not kill.
The words have been drilled into my head for so many years by so many people. It’s one of the basic tenets of the Catholic faith. One of the things I thought was so cut and dried only a few years ago.
Oh, how things have changed.
Wrath burns inside me, so hot, fire licks across my skin. He’s a monster. He tortured her. He let his friends torture her. This is the type of demon who needs to be sent back to hell.
He sent upon them His burning anger, fury and indignation, and trouble. A band of destroying angels.
The verse sends a calm over me. Determination to do what must be done. If anyone on this planet deserves what’s coming to him, it’s this man. We are doing God’s work by taking this fucker out of circulation. We are that band of destroying angels. We’re on a mission, not just to find Everly, but to ensure what happened to her doesn’t happen again.
I push him against the wall next to the door. “A quick death is more than you deserve.” Far more. He deserves to suffer just as much as he made Everly suffer. “I don’t have a choice, though.”
My hand tightens around the gun. I raise it and press the barrel to his forehead.
Forgive me, Father, for I am about to sin.
But for the best reason of all.
Love.
I pull the trigger.
His brain splatters against the wall, and his body crumples to the floor. Blood pools at my feet almost instantly.
The righteous will rejoice when he sees the vengeance; he will bathe his feet in the blood of the wicked.
A strange mix of relief and anguish floods my body. I’m frozen in place, staring down at Everly’s tormentor.
Cutter grabs my arm and drags me to the door before I can consider it further. If he hadn’t, I might have stayed there forever, looking at what I just did.
We rush out into the cool night air. Bullets fly around us.
Running on my prosthetic is definitely something I would love to avoid. I hit the treadmill at the gym in the warehouse with my running prosthetic occasionally, but this one isn’t designed for this.
Uneven ground. Rocks. Little lighting out here. An artificial knee joint that doesn’t work the way my real one does. The very real threat of ending up face-first on the ground looms with every step I take.
My thigh aches. I stumble and right myself, and I grit my teeth through the pain. We return fire before darting behind a building for cover. The dark shadows along the wall help conceal us until we have to move across the street to the vehicles.
Rion climbs into the driver’s seat before I can object. “Any idea where else Everly might be?”
I shake my head. “I don't have a fucking clue.”
Who the hell else would've taken her?
None of this makes sense. The truck roars to life, and Cutter fires up the SUV behind us. My phone rings in my pocket.
I scramble to get it out as we tear away from the curb.
An unknown number? Everly?
“Hello?”
“Hello. To whom do I have the pleasure of speaking?” The heavily accented voice is calm and smooth over the line, but completely unfamiliar.
Who is this guy?
I glance at Rion. “This is Preacher.”
“Ah, Mr. Davis, just the man I was hoping to reach. I have something that belongs to you.”
22
Everly
Darkness and cold.
Those two things have encompassed my entire existence for hours.
I have no idea what these assholes want, but their guns made it crystal clear when they came into the shop that they wanted me to go with them.
