“Are you okay?” I rush out, stepping closer to the phone.
“This is not happening,” she moans.
“Of course you robbed it. I didn’t raise a stupid girl. But lose the attitude, Hayden. I’m so pissed at you right now,” her dad warns.
“Dad, don’t make me regret choosing to memorise your number in case of an emergency. This is an emergency, and if anyone can get me out of this, it’s you. I don’t need you losing it on me now. You promised you’d always be there,” she tells me him, her voice shaking a little. “And I don’t want you attacking everyone around you because you’re scared and being a drama queen.”
He snorts, rolling his eyes at the phone. “I’m the only one keeping it together. Do you have any idea who took you, where they’re taking you?”
“No, I… shit, they’re slowing down,” she whispers. “Dad, you need to tell Beau it’s—”
“I’ll have that, you bitch,” a deep voice vibrates down the phone.
“Hayden,” Max yells, his eyes wide.
She screams as a struggle is heard over the phone. “I’m going to kick your balls so fucking hard you’ll be spitting them out,” she yells, causing us all to wince.
It takes everything for me not to protect my own balls.
“She always goes for the balls,” Liam rasps, his face a little green.
“Hello? Hayden? I swear to God, if you touch my daughter, I will hunt you fucking down,” Max roars, right before the line goes dead. “Fuck!”
He goes to throw the phone but thinks better of it, screaming into the sky.
I link my fingers together, placing them on top of my head, my breath catching as I take a step back.
“Got her. I traced the phone and tracked the GPS,” Liam, their family friend, announces, rushing over to us. “Let’s go.”
As we head for the cars, I throw Beau the keys to my car. “You drive.”
“I’ve linked the signal to your phone,” Liam calls out, opening the passenger side of the door to Max’s car.
“I’m coming with you,” Landon calls out to us.
Beau pauses before he gets in the car, looking down at his phone. “That son of a bitch.”
CHAPTER THIRTY
My hands slide through the mud and leaves as strong arms throw me roughly to the floor. A stick cuts along my cheek as I struggle to get a grip.
My head is still pounding from having something large and heavy whacked across the back of my skull.
I swing my leg out, hitting the tallest of the four in the shin when he goes to grab me.
“Get her up, Low,” says the dark voice as its owner steps away from the back of the car.
Low hoists me up by my armpits, gripping me firmly in place when I struggle to get free.
“How could you do this?” I growl at Fisher, blinking raindrops from my eyes. “You’re a cop.”
He smirks, stepping closer. “It was quite simple really, and they made it so, so easy.”
I don’t recognise the man staring back at me. There’s no resemblance to the man I met Monday in that conference room. None at all.
The way he stands, sure and cocky, no remorse or guilt for his actions or involvement. His expression is hard, contrast to the concern and worry he had worn in a perfect mask in that room. It was all lie.
All of it.
Even his eyes are pure hatred, the orbs holding nothing but darkness. It’s eerie.
And as a torch of light shines on him, revealing just how dark this man is, everything begins to click into place.
He isn’t just a corrupt officer leaking information. He’s the brain behind the entire cooperation, down to every last burglary.
I feel stupid for missing it, for not coming to the assumption sooner. However, it’s all making perfect sense to me right now; every detail I didn’t read into. Each house that was robbed had something worth stealing. They knew exactly what house to hit. All because of the man standing before me.
It was him.
“It’s you. All of this is you,” I scream, when the reality of just what he has done hits me. All those poor souls, all those frightened men and women. “Why would you do this?”
I’m pulled back against a hard chest and my shoulders sink, yet a murderous rage is brewing inside of me.
“Ah, I wondered if you knew of my involvement. It was funny to watch and help the officers try to catch a man that doesn’t exist.”
I spit in his face, struggling to get out of the hold Low has on me.
Fisher grinds his teeth together, his expression boiling with fury as he steps forward, slapping me across the face.
The rain soothes the sting his handprint has left. “Why? Why would you do this?”
He wipes the spit off his nose and cheek before taking a menacing step towards me. I straighten my back, pressing my lips together, ready for whatever he’s going to do.
“I’ve spent years of my life getting abused from those I swore to protect. I got spat on, hit, and dealt with low-lives, only for a majority to get off anyway,” he snaps.
“And you don’t see the irony?”
He ignores me, continuing with his rant. “The people I risked my life to help? They didn’t care. I didn’t get a thanks. Parents? They teach their children to be scared of us, which in turn, turned them against me, against us.
“The men I worked with or for? Pathetic excuses for men. And I did all of it for pennies. I lost everything because of this fucking job. Everything! My home when our pay was cut or our hours were dropped. My wife left when I started drinking to help cope with the difficult day. That’s why I did it, Hayden. I want what I’m owed. It’s been a long time coming.”
“All I’m hearing is wah, wah, wah,” I snap, my gaze drifting over to the boy who is no older than twelve, shaking and wide-eyed. “You’re using kids to do your dirty work.”
His gaze also lands on the young boy, a sinister smirk pulling at his lips.
“They want money, which I provide. What more could they want? And with me in charge, it keeps them out of trouble.”
Is he delusional?
“Can you hear yourself?” I snap, trying to pull my arms free. My gaze goes to the other guy around my age, who is covered in spider tattoos. “And you’re happy to be used by an old dude who is throwing a tantrum because his poor life didn’t go his—”
My lungs burn as I wheeze, the air knocked out of my chest from Fisher’s punch to my stomach.
“Shut the fuck up, you mouthy little bitch,” he snaps, stepping back.
My soaked hair sticks to my face as I lift my head to level him with a glare. “Fuck you,” I croak out, panting.
Tattooed guy chuckles, ducking his head a little to meet my gaze. “We’re here because we want to be. No fucker messes with us. We’ve run off three notorious gangs and have members begging to join us.”
“And we’ve got pockets of cash, don’t we, Kyle?” Low adds, growling low in my ear when I shove my shoulder into him.
“So do half of the population who get off their arse each morning and have a real job,” I snap.
Low’s grip on me tightens. “Please tell me I get to end her.”