Vengeance: The Program Book 4

by N. M. Catalano

  “We’re going in at three a.m. tomorrow night,” Rock informs us. “Everyone should be here by then, and that’ll give us an opportunity to feel out our guests. I’ll brief Snake.”

  Gringo and I both nod. We’re practically chafing at the bit knowing we’ve got a time pinpointed for going back to the mill. One step closer to an ending. One step closer to finding Sasha. Now all we need to figure out is exactly what we’re going to do when we get there.

  “What’s the preliminary plan?” I ask.

  Rock looks from me to Gringo. “We’re taking the same weapons as we did last time. However, this time we’re bringing explosives with us.”

  Hell fucking yes! It’s party time!

  “Good.”

  It’s the perfect fucking plan. Guaranteed to eliminate everything. There’s just one catch.

  We don’t have the opportunity to feed fuses and plant the explosives. That means one thing. We’re taking them in. The mill is massive, and old. The structure is questionable in its stability in many locations. Even if we can clear the area, that doesn’t mean it won’t cause the entire building to collapse with us still inside.

  It’s the only way to ensure the entire operation is shut down. Permanently.

  “We’re ending this. For good.”

  CHAPTER 22

  Bull

  There wasn’t enough time to go over all the details. A plan this big, with so many pieces, needs to be reviewed over and over again. We went through the drone video a few more times looking for anything we might have missed, and did a preliminary count of how much explosives would be necessary to take the place down. Just like the last time, we coordinated where each of us would enter the facility, and the plan if all of us didn’t make it out. We also agreed that the preference is no casualties, however, shoot on contact if necessary.

  But it had to be perfect. There is absolutely no room for error. The last time was a dress rehearsal. This time we’re pulling every fucking trigger we’ve got.

  This is why Gringo is at Gwen’s house meeting with me. Neither one of us sleeps, so it doesn’t make a goddamn difference it’s two o’clock in the morning and we’re sitting in my bedroom on a bed I’ve never slept in with the mill plans sprawled out on the roses.

  Roses. I can’t escape her.

  The fact Gwendolyn is right down the hall is an ever present reminder of why this has to go off like brain surgery.

  “How you feeling about this?” I ask Gringo with my eyes glued to the mill plans.

  “Bro, that place has something so bad in there, the sooner we wipe it off the face of the earth, the faster we can move on. And fuck them for threatening Gwen and Mrs. M. I feel great about this.”

  By move on Gringo means hunt down the motherfuckers who took Sasha, carve their hearts out of their chests, and bring her home. I look at his face. The cold leer with the thirst for blood is confirmation I’m right.

  Damn right.

  “Do you think we’re going to catch heat for what we’re going to do?” I rub my beard.

  Gringo might be one angry son of a bitch, he always has been and now he’s borderline psychotic, but he’s levelheaded and methodical.

  “Honestly? Yeah, we are, but I’ve got my doubts now if The Program is responsible for our contract. The way this is all going down is not their style. It’s too messy, there are too many loose ends,” he shakes his head. “If it’s not them, we’ll catch a ton of a shit for it, but they’ll keep their distance.” He shrugs. “That’s just my two cents.”

  “I agree, but whoever is responsible knows enough about us to insinuate headquarters is where the orders came from.”

  “Yes, I know. Which means one of two things: number one, it’s a member gone rogue, or number two, it’s The Club. They know what we are, they hired us to bring Summer back. They’ve got business men who could write up something and make it sound legit. Hell,” Gringo sweeps his hand out, “there was practically a soldier for hire ad up in the dark web for our asses and Summer’s return. The Program does not operate that way. They’ve got more mercenaries on their payroll than the President has secret service.”

  It’s all true, every point he’s made.

  “And with Christopher Edgeworth’s affiliations with Club members, the writing’s on the wall.” Bingo. The only thing that would make it any more certain would be Edgeworth himself squealing out his confession as we gave him our special method of questioning.

  Gringo worked his magic and got into Edgeworth’s private communications and found correspondence with known Club members, both professionally and personally, including Summer’s dad. Edgeworth is so ball’s deep in with The Club scumbags, you can smell his filth from here.

  “They didn’t count on us getting a hold of the offer to purchase paperwork,” I smirk, and it’s full of every God awful thing I would do to them if I got my hands on any of them. I’d keep them alive just for shit’s and giggles so I could remind them every day that no one fucks with us.

  “No, they didn’t. It was the piece of information we’ve been waiting for,” Gringo stretches his legs out and tucks his hands behind his head. He looks smug, mean as fuck, but smug. He’s seated in the chair by the window. It’s been a long day, and it’s starting to show.

  I tilt my head at him and wonder just how in the hell he does it. How does he keep his shit together with everything he’s gone through and all he’s carrying on his shoulders?

  “Gringo, can I ask you something?” Right now, it’s just me and him, all the other bullshit is gone.

  His eyes bore into mine, his expression says he knows whatever’s coming, whatever I’m going to say is going to hurt, but he’s going to take it. “Yeah.”

  I take in a long, slow breath. “Do you blame them? You know, if they hadn’t ordered you to end it, do you think you could have prevented them from taking Sasha?”

  Sasha is a topic we NEVER discuss with Gringo, unless absolutely necessary. We care about him too much to jab a burning dagger into the festering wound. Sometimes wounds need attention.

  His expression contorts into all the rage and agony he keeps locked up tight inside him, it’s all there. “Yes, I do. Every fucking second of my life.”

  I shake my head, “Yeah, me too.” I pick up the mill plans and start to roll them up when my door opens. Whipping my head around, I notice Gringo hasn’t budged, but his expression has changed and he’s got a wide grin on his face.

  “Hey,” Gwen says quietly. She’s standing in the open doorway, all tousled fiery hair, sleep flushed cheeks, and droopy sex kitten eyes. “Everything okay?” her gaze goes from me to Gringo, then back.

  The adrenaline that’s been coursing through my system all day rushes straight to my cock. She’s dressed in those see through flimsy pieces of fabric that are barely covered by a slip of a robe. Her nipples taunt me poking the material, and her pussy? Her entire mound is outlined perfectly, all juicy and sweet as homemade cherry pie. I can see it through the opening. As I’m eating her up with my eyes, those responsive nipples of hers get hard and pointy under my glare and practically drill a hole through her tiny shirt. My eyes shoot to meet hers.

  “Gwendolyn? What are you doing up?” My voice is as rough as sandpaper, and my dick is as hard as stone.

  She steps softly into my room just crossing the threshold. “I heard voices.” Her eyes move to Gringo. He’s still kicked back in the chair exactly as he was before. “Hi Gringo,” she gives him a small smile.

  “Hi Gwen. I hope we didn’t wake you up,” he says, but he can’t hide the asshole inside, and to be honest, I’m very pleased to see him. It’s been a long time. I think he’s happier than a pig in shit to have a front row seat behind the scenes of the Bull & Gwen show.

  “No, you didn’t,” she smiles and takes another step inside. Then closes the door.

  Aw, hell no!

  The question she asked me last night echoes in my mind. Do you guys have sex with women together?

  Yes, little da
rlin’, and we’re probably both fucking you in our heads right now.

  “Gwen, go back to bed,” I reach around her to open the door. She puts a hand against the wooden panel.

  “No, I thought I’d come in to say hi. You didn’t come in earlier,” she looks at Gringo. “You’ve never been here before. I figured I’d take advantage while you’re here.”

  Oh, you did? It might be us taking advantage of you.

  Maybe in the past, but not since Gringo was destroyed because of Sasha’s disappearance. I’m not sure what’s left inside of him.

  “That’s very nice of you, Gwen,” the right words come out of his mouth, but there’s no emotion. “My apologies, though. We know it’s late,” he turns his attention to me, “but it was the only time we could discuss some things.”

  Gwen sits on the edge of the bed facing Gringo.

  No, no, no.

  “I’m glad you’re here,” she lays a hand on his knee. “Really.”

  “Gwendolyn,” I walk over to where they’re sitting. My tone is on this side of threatening.

  Gringo might be broken, but he’s not dead. The woman he loves is missing. And for all of his faults and his dickhead attitude, he’s a good man, one of the best I know. The other two are Rock and Snake. Every one of us are filthy, perverted bastards, but we’ve got hearts. And dicks. Gwendolyn’s sitting on a bed in front of him practically naked, all luscious and ripe. He’s a hot blooded man, he hasn’t had any affection since Sasha, and he’s in pain. There’s a special bond between Gringo and Gwen, there has to be for a man to protect a woman with his life. That’s how it is between them, whether Gwen realizes it or not. That’s how it is with all of us. He cares about her in his own way. But the thing is, I’m not sure where Gwen stands with Gringo, especially after her question last night. As in the three of us.

  “Leave her alone, Bull. She wanted to come in and see us,” Gringo says casually.

  Bullshit. He’s giving her rope to see what she’ll do with it.

  “Yeah, sit down,” she pats the spot on the bed next to her and looks up at me with a coy smile and a fucking twinkle in her eye, like she’s fully aware it’s her and him against me.

  What do I do? What any man would, of course. I let out a slow breath and sit my big ass down beside her. The bed dips with my weight and brings her closer to me. She lays a hand on my thigh. Her touch is like a goddamn livewire shooting straight through me.

  “You guys are working so late. Was the paperwork I sent with Bull today helpful?” she asks Gringo. She sounds hopeful and concerned. I hate hearing her worried, it guts me. But it’s better that she knows. You can’t watch out for the bad guys if you don’t know about them.

  Gringo leans forward, closer to Gwen.

  “Yes it was. And don’t worry.” Gringo looks at me. “Bull’s going to watch out for you and Mrs. M. We all are.”

  We won’t give her the details of the situation, just enough for her to be alert. Give her the impression the people behind the offer are not to be trusted, because they’re not. The thing is, they’re so much worse. We’ll worry about them being greedy psycho motherfuckers who would sell their sister and their mother to the highest bidder.

  With her hand still on my thigh, she reaches over and lays a hand on Gringo’s cheek. “I know, Gringo. I’ve been meaning to tell you how sorry I am,” he scrunches his eyes shut pushing back the pain. She leans forward and kisses him on the cheek. I watch mesmerized by the whole exchange. “Thank you. For everything.” She’s still got her palm on his face. “If there’s anything I can do…,” her words trail off as she turns to face me.

  Now, let’s just take a snapshot of this moment. This one defining moment where things could possibly go one way or the other. There are two questions here: The first one is, did she ask me if we shared women because she was just curious? Or did she ask because she’s more than just curious?

  Does she want that?

  The fact she’s aware we’ve shared women, a lot of women, not always but often enough, is enough to make me stop and let her show us what she’s doing here.

  “You guys are very close,” she states quietly.

  “Closer than you can imagine,” Gringo tells her.

  She gives me a sly smirk. I’d bet my ass she’s thinking about her question last night.

  She drops her gaze as a blush tints her cheeks, the smirk still playing on her lips.

  “You love Sasha,” Gwen whispers.

  I’ve got to give Gwen props. She doesn’t pussy foot around. She tells it like it is, sweetly, but she lays it all out.

  The statement wasn’t meant to make Gringo feel bad. She said it with the utmost respect, she acknowledged his devotion to the woman he wasn’t supposed to have.

  “I do,” Gringo’s voice is tight, but it’s the first time I’ve seen a glimmer of life behind the pain that’s entombed him. Gwen did that. She smashed through it with her purity and honesty.

  With her head still tilted down, she slides her eyes to meet mine. What she asks me knocks me on my ass.

  “Were you close with Sasha and Gringo, Bull?”

  Gringo doesn’t flinch, the only thing that moves are his eyes. They lock with mine as he waits for me to answer. I know damn well what she’s asking me. Gwen wants to know if we were a threesome. If I fucked Sasha with Gringo. Gringo won’t reply. It’s my question to answer, I’m the one who cares about Gwen.

  Gwendolyn is mine.

  Gringo won’t overstep his boundaries.

  At this moment, those boundaries are still being laid.

  I lay my hand over hers and thread our fingers together. “I was, darlin’.”

  She raises her head and looks me in the eyes. She squeezes my hand, “That’s why you feel Gringo’s pain. His hurt is yours. I’ve seen it in your eyes.”

  Her perceptiveness makes my heart ache. It hurts with the intensity of what I feel for this woman who grabbed me by the heart, and it hurts for the loss my brother is going through.

  “Gwen,” Gringo reaches over and puts his hand on both of ours, “what was between me and Sasha was different. It was complicated, but it was special.”

  It feels like a knife has just ripped my heart in two.

  She cups his cheek again and searches his face. “I know. I’m beginning to realize just how special it must have been.” With our fingers still laced, she uncurls them and slowly slips our hands down the inside of my thigh.

  My heart is beating like a herd of buffalo stampeding inside my chest. I’m overwhelmed with the things I’m feeling for this woman. And I’m being bombarded with images of exactly how to show her.

  Gringo matches her stare, studying her as intently as she is him.

  “Bull,” the corner of his mouth curls up in a grin. “You’ve got a hell of a woman here.”

  That stampede inside my chest? Yeah, it just jumped over a cliff.

  Hearing him say it burns Gwen into my fucking soul. He just branded me, there’s no going back now.

  “Yeah, I do. But once she’s mine, she’s ours. We take care of what’s ours,” my voice is a low rumble, the beginning of what could very well turn into one hell of an avalanche.

  Not breaking his stare with Gwen, he nods. “Yeah, we do.” Gringo reaches out and gently tucks a strand of hair behind Gwen’s ear.

  She captures his hand, brings it to her lips and kisses his palm. “Thank you,” she whispers.

  “You know you’ve got the big guy wrapped around your finger, don’t you?” He grins as he strokes a fingertip across her lower lip. Her tongue peeks out and licks it.

  SNAP. There goes my resolve, it just fucking shattered.

  I touch a fingertip to Gwen’s tongue with Gringo’s. She swirls around both of us, curling and licking us together. “She’s perfect, Gringo. She tastes as sweet as honey, she smells like a goddamn rose garden, and her skin is softer than silk.”

  Gwen’s eyelids dip as she closes her lips around both our fingers.

  “She
should be worshipped,” he rasps.

  I pull my finger from her mouth and press my lips to her ear. Holding the back of her head, I trace the shell with my tongue, then whisper, “Do you want us to worship you, Gwen? Send you to heaven like you’ve never been before?”

  She lets out a soft little moan as she releases Gringo’s finger.

  “Bull…,” Gwen whispers.

  “Aw, sweet darlin’, wait until you have two mouths all over you.” I turn her face to me, cover her mouth with mine, and devour her.

  She has me all kinds of crazy. Her, here with us, giving herself so freely with no inhibitions and so much fucking trust. She owns me, mind, body, heart, and soul.

  I lift her onto my lap. “What did I tell you about dressing like this,” I growl as I pull her robe open.

  Her head falls back against my chest. “They’ll get wet,” she breathes out heavily.

  I cup her breasts and hold them so her nipples are pointing at Gringo. “Suck them. Right through the fabric. Get her soaking wet.” I sound like a damn animal.

  “Is this punishment?” Gringo asks. I can hear the humor in his tone, the fucker.

  “Something like that.” For me.

  He leans forward, closes his mouth completely over one breast, and sucks. Watching Gwen’s face as Gringo sucks her tits and seeing what it does to her, that right there is damn perfect.

  “AAHHHH,” Gwen’s body goes taut against me.

  Gringo lifts from her. “That’s fucking beautiful,” he whispers as he nips the point in the center of the wet ring with his teeth. Then he moves to the other one, the sound of him sucking mixing with Gwen’s pants is fucking heaven.

  With one arm closed firmly around Gwen’s waist, I pull her shorts down with the other. Gringo pulls them the rest of the way off as he keeps his lips closed on Gwen’s tit. I reach down and grip the insides of Gwen’s thighs and open them wide. In this position, everything is open, her sweet, sweet pussy and beautiful breasts.

  “Isn’t this just the prettiest pussy you’ve ever seen? Taste her.” My tone is thick, just like my cock.