“I’ll be fucking damned. Our sis was right to demand we get a tracker,” Michael says and rubs his left forearm, the place he has one too.
“Lifesaver,” Deeds quips. “Even if it’s never needed, this one time shows that being prepared reaps benefits.” Deeds raises his voice and throws his hand up in the air and twirls it around. “Now, let’s get going and get him back. We have the all clear to take anyone out who interferes. Shoot first, ask questions later.”
Grunts of approval fill the air and right after the roaring of bikes. All of us ride for over thirty minutes before Zerox and Deeds both head for a small parking space and park their bike. We follow and huddle together.
Deeds takes out his phone. “Any of you have a pen and a piece of paper?”
“Hang on,” I tell him and jog to the SUV.
We not only had this SUV altered with a safe room—the tiny space Val crawled in—but also loaded it with different kinds of equipment. So, I’m pretty sure there’s some paper and a pen in the dashboard. And I’m right. Grabbing the stuff I need, I head back and hand it over.
He places it on the hood of the car and his phone is right next to it, showing a picture. He starts to sketch and I know he’s making a layout of the house where the dot on Zerox’s app pinpointed Morgan.
He starts to explain the layout and discuss how they’re going to approach and storm the house but they are forgetting one major fucking detail.
“They’re not in the house,” I grunt, making all eyes land on me.
Deeds’ head tilts to the side and he waits for me to explain.
“When we managed to escape there was a whirl of stairs. It was hell for Val to get us out since I was passing out at every turn due to the loss of blood. But I remember very vividly crawling out of the ground when I came to. Val also burned the house along with it but I swear we didn’t come out of it. And if they are still sticking with the same routine—”
“Then they have a place underground near the house,” Deeds finishes for me, nodding his head in understanding. “Archer, go with Beecher and scout the place out. We will stay here until you guys either call or text if something’s up, or come back to discuss so we can end this shit. Ten minutes, tops, understood? I want this to end yesterday.”
Archer heads for the trees separating the parking space with the property up ahead. It’s all knit close together and it takes effort to make our way through to get close to the house.
“If I find any bugs in my underwear tonight, I’m going to be really pissed,” Archer grumbles and it makes me snicker. He shoots me a glare. “I’m serious. I didn’t say it to lighten the mood. I really fucking hate bugs, they creep me out.”
“Noted,” I snicker.
But we crouch down simultaneously when a car leaves the property. We share a glance and Archer takes out his phone to shoot a message.
A few breaths later he receives a reply. “Pres says the dot is still in place.”
I give him a tight nod and we both move forward. The house is completely dark, and when we observe and move around, we’re sure it’s abandoned.
Knowing I was where Morgan is right now sparks a drive. A need. A fucking obligation to get in there and haul him out as soon as I can. It’s for this reason I rush forward and glance around to search for some kind of hatch. I don’t have to pay attention to my surroundings because I hear Archer curse behind me and when I glance over my shoulder to check I see he’s palming his gun.
With him having my back I can fully focus on finding the entrance to an underground hiding space. And it’s here, I know it. I feel it in my gut. These guys didn’t change the crucial tactics, it has to be here.
“There,” I whisper hiss and point at a square in the grass.
Archer goes left, pointing the gun at it with one hand as he grabs his phone and waits a moment before he rattles, “House clean and abandoned. Found a hatch in the backyard, going in now.”
He tucks his phone away in the back pocket of his jeans and is now aiming the gun with both hands as he gives me a nod.
I point my gun in the same direction and grab hold of the latch, swinging it open in one fluid move.
There’s a stairway leading down and as I follow it I feel Archer right behind me.
Muted voices flow through the air, though one voice is harsh and clear. “It’s okay to scream. I would prefer it.”
“And I would prefer my fist up your ass to reach for your tongue to prevent you from voicing another fucking word,” Morgan grunts.
My foot connects with something on the floor, making a slight noise.
“Back so soon? I was just playing around.” The voice sounds as if it’s coming closer.
Archer goes left while I go right. There’s not much light in this tiny space until a door up ahead—that’s slightly ajar—fully opens. It’s Donald, and he’s holding a knife. The light coming from the room behind him highlights the blood dripping from the blade and I don’t think twice but shoot the fucker right between the eyes.
Archer rushes forward and jumps over Donald’s body and into the room.
“All clear,” he bellows and I step over Donald to follow Archer into the room.
Archer isn’t holding a gun but is trying to cut away the duct tape that’s holding Morgan in place on a metal chair. His shirt is ripped away and he’s only wearing his jeans and sneakers. I quickly put my gun down, take off my cut and grab the hem of my shirt to pull it off. Putting my cut back on, I wrap my T-shirt around the gaping wound on his forearm and palm my gun while keeping pressure.
I lower my gun once I see Deeds followed closely by Zerox enter the room.
“Donald was talking to someone and before we went in here there was a car driving away from the property. We need—”
“Already put a brother on it to follow the car,” Deeds says. “Do we need an ambulance? How are you doing, buddy?”
“I’d like to get back to the clubhouse and have the doc stitch me up,” Morgan grunts at the same time I apply more pressure.
Deeds dismisses Morgan and asks me, “How deep is the wound? Do we need to get him to the hospital?”
“Knife wound, it was a gaping one. He needs a truckload of stitches, that’s for sure. But I’m guessing the doc can handle it. And if he thinks he needs to head to the hospital we can get him there. For now, I’d like to have him safe and out of here.”
Zerox glances him over with hawk eyes. “You sure you’re okay to walk?”
“Just a scratch, Pres.” Morgan grins. “A scratch that’s gonna heal and then my sister can’t deny me from getting my arm inked. I’ve been harassing her for months and she wouldn’t let me. Can’t deny me now with the shit that happened. You can ink over a scar, right?”
“Fucking prospects,” Deeds snickers. “Babies bouncing back and all over the place. But, fuck, some are tough.”
Chapter Eight
Valentina
I take the glass of water from Maci with shaky hands.
“How are you feeling?” the doctor asks for a third time.
“The same as a few minutes ago,” I groggily reply.
My head is killing me, nausea hits me in waves that come and go, but overall, I’m relieved to be sitting here in the clubhouse surrounded by friendly faces.