“While this little walk down memory lane is intriguing, I do have to be on my way. Now, please answer my question. What will it take for you to safely return Michael and Alexandra to Mr. Mancuso?” The Italian’s voice wavers ever so slightly before he rectifies his show of weakness.
“You’re not listening,” Jim says. His voice turns cool and disinterested. If I didn’t know better, I’d think he’s bored, but it’s exactly the opposite. Ryan is so much like his father. They both grow cold and quiet before they lay waste to anything within reach. Duke tenses beside me, and I do a quick check of my equipment to make sure I’m on my game should I need to pull the trigger. “This isn’t about money. It’s about righting the wrongs of the past. A man stole a woman’s infant children from her, and then he sliced up the face of the only child he let her keep. He forced her sister to raise her stolen babies as her own. You want to know what price I’m willing to accept? Mancuso dead and served up to everyone he’s ever hurt. Anything less is an insult.”
“Very well,” the Italian says. “I will relay your message to Mr. Mancuso. My two men here will follow me out. I have certain contingency plans in place that will ensure my safe exit, so please spare yourself the trouble and don’t bother following me.”
“I’m on it,” Wyatt says through the conference.
“Road’s clear,” Fish says.
The Italian strides to his black Mercedes and climbs into the driver’s seat. From there, he slowly makes a three-point turn and then stops. His men climb onto the closed trunk and sit down, their rifles comfortably propped on their laps as the Mercedes crawls down the dirt drive and toward the highway.
“Fuck,” Duke says. “Shit is either about to get bad, or we might have made a breakthrough.”
“You mean this isn’t bad?” I say.
He snorts and smiles in my direction. “You ain’t seen nothing yet, Baby Boy.”
We stay put for a few minutes before Fish gives us the clear, and then we pack up and head down to the highway. Once we’re there, I return the rifle and phones to Fish and climb back into Nic’s car. I’ve started her up and am about to pull away when Duke climbs into the passenger seat and adjusts his dick as he gets comfortable.
“Fucked your sister in this car,” he says with a nod. My stomach roils at the thought.
“That’s great,” I say through gritted teeth. He does this—talks about porking my sister, knowing it irritates the hell out of me—all the fucking time.
“Clubhouse,” he says. “Fucked her there, too.”
I try to ignore the comment about Nic and drive for the clubhouse. On the way, he manages to tell me he’s had Nic in every room of the house and in my bed. Then he says he’s joking. Then he says he’s not. By the time we pull up to Forsaken Custom Cycle, I’m ready to run us off the road and end my suffering. We’re the first guys back, and the lot is empty beyond the clubhouse gates save for a red-and-black Harley that I don’t recognize. Sitting on a picnic bench near the front door is a tall dude about Duke’s age, with light blond hair that rests on his shoulders. He’s wearing a leather cut that looks like it belongs to us, but I ain’t got a clue who he is.
“Who’s that guy?”
“Guy from Detroit,” Duke says. “He’s looking to transfer. Think his name is Daniel.” There’s a few tense moments between us before he speaks again, this time much more agitated.
“I would really like a fucking update on Bean and Sweets,” Duke says. His leg bounces nervously.
Just moments after we pull up, Ruby’s red Suburban peeks through the opening gates behind us.
“Ian’s back,” Duke says with a shout and hops out of the car. He slams his door behind him as he jogs for the Suburban that parks a few spaces down. Ian had Ruby’s SUV when he and Grady left to work on the clues that Scavo gave about where Holly and Mindy might be. If Ian is back, then I can only hope that means he found the girls.
I cut off the car and step out just as Ian walks around to the passenger side and opens the front passenger door. The first thing I see emerge is a pair of long, jean-clad legs, and then I see it—her pretty blonde hair. Mindy.
“Fuck, Mindy. Are you okay?” I ask as I rush toward her.
Looking up, she blinks, slightly taken aback, but then forces a tired smile to her face. “I’m not sure that’s the right word for it, but I’m unharmed,” she says with frustration clear in her voice. Can’t fucking blame her.
“How’s Holly?” My voice is drops a few decibels, and a gnarly squeak appears halfway through the question. I sound like a fucking kid, but I don’t care right now. I need an answer. If Holly isn’t okay, I fucking give up.
“Again, she’s unharmed.”
Ian gives Duke and me a flat look and nods his head toward Mindy. “Sweets is going to stay at Grady’s house. Mindy will be staying with Duke and Nic.”
“Shit, that motherfucker has got it bad,” Duke says with a laugh. He shakes his head and doesn’t even try to hide the smile on his face. Mindy huffs and looks at the ground beneath her, but I catch the smile on her face as she tips her head down.