Outlaw Xmas (Insurgents MC #10)

Nodding, Banger pulled at his beard. “Let’s roll.”

Settled in Hawk’s SUV, the brothers sat stone-faced and silent as he steered the vehicle over the icy backroads. Inside his nerves sizzled and snapped threatening to explode, but he’d have to keep his cool in order to save his son. Thoughts of what Braxton and Harley may be going through had to be kept at bay. If he started thinking about how scared they probably were, he’d lose it, and fear and rage might make him do something stupid. He had to cool the fire in his veins with ice cold hate. Emotions had to be replaced with steely calculations. After he made sure the boys were safe, he’d let the smoldering fire in him wreak havoc on the sonofabitch who dared to kidnap his son.

“It’s coming up,” Blade said, his voice breaking through Hawk’s concentration. “It must be down the road to the right. Do you see the dirt road over there?”

Hawk spotted a narrow break to the side. If Blade hadn’t pointed it out, he would’ve driven right past it. Out in this part of the county, there weren’t any streetlights and blackness filled the space under a waning moon. He turned sharply, killed the headlights, and slowed way down.

“Do you know how many are involved in this?” Banger asked.

“No. I just know the van is here,” Blade replied.

“We better be prepared for a battle. Maybe Chad’s pussy-assed son’s behind this,” Throttle said.

“Reggie? I don’t think he’d have the know-how to pull this off,” Tigger answered.

“Revenge makes you figure out a lot of shit. We offed his old man. I’m sure he wants retaliation. I know I would,” Rock said.

Hawk gripped the steering wheel harder. “I agree with you. To be sure, four of us will go in the back and the other four will stay guard in the front. We don’t know what’s inside the house.”

The tires crunched on the snow as they drove down the long road lined with gnarled, leafless tree limbs. In the distance, the outline of a small house came into view. As they approached, two windows in the front cast weak pools of yellow that barely lit up the ground beneath them.

Hawk stopped. “We’ll walk from here,” he said as he switched off the engine.

The men filed out and headed to the house. As they came up to the dilapidated abode, the van came into sight. It was parked off to the side. Banger went over to it and tried the door. It swung open. Tiny jumped in and Banger followed. Hawk stood watching them, his pulse pounding in his ears.

A couple of minutes later, Banger and Tiny exited the vehicle. Banger rolled his shoulders. “Nothing.” His voice was tight with rage.

“They must be inside,” Tiny said.

“Throttle, Banger, Rock, and I will go in through the back. This place is small so I don’t think there are that many rooms. The rest of you be ready to come through the front when we call out,” Hawk said.

“There’s a basement, but I don’t think anyone’s down there.” On his knees, Jigger looked through the windows.

“I think they’re in the front room. It’s the only one with lights on.” Tiny pulled out a gun from the inside of his leather jacket.

“We gotta play this slow and cool. We don’t want our kids hurt.” A sharp pain lanced Hawk’s heart, but he pushed it away and focused on getting into the house and confronting his opponent.

Hawk and the three men walked softly toward the back of the house, his small flashlight providing the only illumination. Placing his gloved hand on the doorknob, he slowly turned it, and to his surprise, the door swung open.

“You gotta love careless people. It makes it easy as fuck for us,” Throttle said in a low voice.

“These stairs are damn loud though,” Rock replied.

“Let’s wait for the heater to kick on. I’m gonna bet it’s not a new, quiet model. When I was growing up, the heater would be so fuckin’ loud when it turned on and off, and the transformer would be so damn noisy the whole time it was running,” Banger said.

They stood waiting on the porch for several minutes and then the click and thump of the furnace pilot light catching filtered to their ears, and a loud humming noise replaced the quiet.

“Time to roll,” Hawk said as he crossed over the threshold, Banger, Throttle, and Rock following behind him.

A blast of heat smothered them as they stood in the middle of the small kitchen. To the right, a mouse scurried across the linoleum floor. Jerking his head toward the hallway, Hawk quietly walked out of the room. As he neared the only room with a light on, he pressed his body against the wall and inched closer toward it. Banger was next to him, his 9mm in his hand. Stopping just short of the doorway, he craned his neck and glanced inside the room. A bare bulb with a pull string was the only light in the room. Damp spots on the dingy walls, a jumbled row of what looked like paint cans, and a stack of cardboard boxes under the windows were the first things he saw from his vantage point. Extending his head a bit farther, he saw a man matching the description Cara had given him of Garret leaning against the wall rubbing and scratching his arms as his legs twitched. On the table next to him, Hawk saw an empty baggie and a rolled up bill. He glanced at Garret again, and a bolt of rage shot through him. The fucker is high. If he hurt Braxton, I’ll make sure he dies a real slow and painful death.

Against one of the walls, he noticed a mattress. His heart pounded: Braxton and Harley lay on their sides. A chill went through him. Are they dead? The thought froze his soul.

“See anyone?” Banger asked.

“Yeah. I see the boys. The fucker’s tweaking out. Probably meth. Let’s go in.”

When they entered the room, he immediately saw the mismatched furniture shoved over to the right-side of the room. A man sat up, surprise and then panic lacing his face. Hawk rushed over to him and grabbed him by the front of his shirt and yanked him to his feet.

“What the fuck did you do to my boy?”

Banger rushed over and without warning, punched him hard in the back near the kidneys. The man howled and Hawk let go of him, satisfaction coursing through him as the man fell down on his knees, sweat pouring down his face.

“I didn’t know they were your kids,” a high-pitched voice said behind Hawk. He whirled around and saw Rock slam Garret against the wall a few times.

Pointing at the man on the floor, Hawk turned to Jigger. “Watch the fucker.” Banger and he rushed over to the mattress, a huge sense of relief washing over him when he saw Braxton’s and Harley’s small chests rise and fall.

“Hey, little buddy,” he said as he knelt down and picked up Braxton. The boy’s head flopped forward and his eyes remained shut.

“They fuckin’ drugged them,” Banger hissed as he held Harley close to him.

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