A familiar whistle caught my attention. I looked to my left to see AK crouched down on another dirt path, one that led to the backcountry road. Styx signaled for me to come over.
Jumping up, I ran to where they were all gathered. AK looked up and pointed to the dirt. “Footprints. A lotta them.”
Inhaling a ragged breath, AK stood, his eyes narrowed. “People were down here, Ky. Looks to be about five or six men, judging by the size of the boot prints.”
“How you know all’a this?” Hush asked.
“Special forces, six tours,” AK replied. “Whoever they are ain’t smart enough to cover their tracks.” He knelt down again and tilted his head. “Fuck!”
“What?” I snapped.
AK glanced back at me. “Two sets of footprints are deeper.” He stood and, sticking to the edges of the path, walked up about ten yards into the trees. He nodded to himself, then said, “They were carrying something to give them more weight.” AK met my eyes and exhaled. “Something weighing about a hundred and ten pounds I’d say.”
“Lilah,” I whispered. “The fuckers took her.”
An angry roar split the silence of the riverbank. Turning, I saw Styx fuckin’ raging, mouth and muscles tight. Fixing my attention back on AK, I tried to keep a level head and asked, “Anything else you can see?”
AK frowned as he studied the footprints, then his expression changed and his head snapped up. “Military boots. Some serious heavy-duty military boots. And a smoke.” AK picked up the half-smoked cigarette and shook his head. “Still warm but cool enough to tell me whoever it is will be long gone with Lilah.”
“Who the fuck would be wearing boots like that ‘round here?” Cowboy asked.
“N-N-Nazis,” a voice sounded from the side. We all looked to Styx in shock. He’d spoken again. That’s how pissed the brother was. His fear of talking was overtaken by pure rage.
“He’s right. Those cunts all wear ‘em,” Vike said, and I closed my eyes.
“The distraction,” I said, everything now making a shitload of sense.
All eyes snapped to me. “Fuck!” Viking shouted.
“Tank. I need to speak to Tank,” I said and set off running through the woods. Just as I broke through into the yard, Tank, Bull, and Smiler were already running out toward us, faces hard as stone.
“Tank!” I yelled. “Those motherfuckin’ fascists have taken my bitch!”
Tank paled and threw his head back. “Fuck!”
All the brothers began to gather in the yard, all glaring at Tank, waiting for intel. My skin felt on fire with the need to chase tail and get my woman back in my arms where she belonged, but I had no fuckin’ idea where to start. And what the hell did the Klan want with her? How the fuck did they know she was here?
“My source, Tanner, heard Landry order the last of his fuckin’ redneck minions to move against us, to distract us with the IED, then extract the beautiful bitch…”
Tank hesitantly looked at Styx, who had moved beside me, and his eyes winced.
Styx jerked his chin at Tank, signaling for him to continue.
Tank sighed. “To take out Styx’s old lady. They were told they’d know her, as she looked like a goddamn supermodel. Mae was the target. He didn’t know more than that.”
My mind raced and adrenalin pumped through my veins. Fuck, this must be what Flame felt like twenty-four-seven. I wanted to kill, murder every bastard that fucked with my woman.
Styx was a statue beside me, but I knew he was teetering on the edge of losing his shit, ready to go track and slice up the Nazis. “What did they want her for? What did Landry want her for?”