He gave us the tip on the warehouse.
Motherfucker. He set us up. He tried to kill us. That means Colonel Black is responsible for Cooper being blown across the place, not to mention Brighton’s injuries. My rage wells, becoming the dominant force inside my brain.
Before I have a chance to ponder any further how I’d like to torture the traitorous bastard, Brighton yells up the stairs, “Yo, AJ. Team’s here.”
Cracking my neck, I release some of the pent-up tension. “Let’s do this,” I grumble under my breath.
Stomping down the stairs, I come to a stand in front of my team. From the expressions on all of their faces, it’s plain as day that Brighton already filled them in. Silently, I meet all of their gazes, holding them for several moments.
When my gaze lands on Noah, he smirks and says, “So, are we ready to go and see Back Door Black?”
Popping an eyebrow at him, my voice is filled with amusement when I ask, “Back Door Black?”
Nodding furiously, he responds, “Oh, yeah. That’s gonna stick, too. That fucker slunk out the back door. I bet he likes it in the back door, too.”
Groaning, I shake my head. “Fuck! Shut the hell up, Noah. I don’t need to picture that shit. Is everyone ready?”
A collective “Yes” sounds from the group.
“Good, let’s go meet up with ‘Back Door Black’ as Jester here likes to call him,” I say, smirking at Noah.
Loading the vehicle and getting on the road takes less time than expected. Smooth, well organized, and efficient, like a well-oiled machine. This team is all of those things and more, something I’ve never been more thankful of than right this moment. My chest expands, swelling with hunger at the anticipation of what’s to come. Blowing out a long breath, my gaze falls on the people lining the streets going about their business, stuck in their daily lives, oblivious to so many aspects of reality. A vibration in my pocket pulls my gaze from the window. My brow furrows. Digging through my pockets, I scoop out my phone and see the Colonel’s number blazing on the screen.
“Grant,” he barks.
“Yes, sir?”
“There’s been a development?” He’s breathy and sounds impatient.
“Colonel, is everything all right?” I ask.
Sighing heavily, he replies, “Yes, just following up on a lead.”
“So are we, sir.”
“What lead?” he demands.
“Not one that can be discussed over the air, sir.”
“Very well. If you find anything out from this lead, don’t go any further without me. I want to be there when we find her. Is that understood?”
“Understood, sir. Permission to speak freely?”
“Yes.”
“Keep your phone on, sir. If you don’t answer, I will proceed with the extraction. I’ll not wait and endanger her further. I’m sorry, sir, but she’s not worth risking.”
“Message received, Captain. She’s not worth risking. But, call me. The phone will be on.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Be careful, son.”
“You too, sir.”
The call ends just as Brighton brings the vehicle to a stop. Glancing up, I squint my eyes, trying to make sense of our surroundings. After a moment, I recognize the bungalow Brighton showed me four doors down. Everyone turns around in their seats and stares at me, waiting for orders. Inhaling several deep breaths, I steel my nerves. This is it, what we’ve been waiting for.
“All right. We go in low and slow. Be ready for anything. Stick to the shadows. Back Door Black is prone to sneaking out the rear so, Jester, you and Chaos are covering the back,” I say, my eyes landing on them for emphasis. “Blade, Sandman, and I will go in the front. Keep your eyes and ears open. Be on alert for anything.” Hesitating, I look to Brighton.
“Chaos, is the feed secure? I don’t want anyone tipped off that we’re in the building.”
Brighton nods. “Yeah, I tapped into the feed. They are seeing what I want them to see.” The devilish grin that tilts the corners of his lips gives me pause, making me wonder what he put on display.
“Good, do you have eyes on the Colonel?”
“Yeah, Back Door Black is getting some lip service at the moment.”
Swallowing the bile that started inching its way up my throat, I reply, “Ugh, thanks for that image. So, it looks like he’s occupied and will be for thirty seconds give or take. Let’s roll.” Chuckles echo around as we filter out of the vehicle, edging our way to the bungalow.
Two minutes later, we’re all in position and silently entering the dimly lit bungalow. Grunts and groans fill the pungent air as we noiselessly move from room to room. In no time at all, the small space is quickly covered, leaving us to converge in the hallway, guns drawn, heading toward the closed door. Leading the team down the hall, I gesture for Sam to take the right and Brighton the left. Signaling Noah, he goes low, opening the door. Black is splayed spread eagle on the bed while the petite Korean woman bobs her head up and down between his legs.
“Hands in the air!” I shout as we all disperse, forming a dangerous circle around Back Door Black and his new friend.
Black startles, shoving the tiny woman off his groin and reaching for his sidearm on the nightstand.
“Unh unh, I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” I snarl. Slowly, his arm retreats as he hauls it back to his side.
“Keep them up if you know what’s good for you.” His eyes blow wide for a moment before he locks down his emotions. Giving Sam a stiff nod, I gesture toward Black’s weapons. He retrieves them, leaving Black naked and vulnerable.
“What is the meaning of this?” Black demands.
Ignoring him, I ask a question of my own. “Was Sabrina not enough for you anymore, Black? I mean, I know the girl is a handful, but I figured after you knocked her up, you’d at least do right by her.” I wave a hand at the girl cowering at the end of bed.
“This doesn’t exactly seem like you doing right.” Black’s pupils grow, eating up the brown irises entirely. Shock sets in as his mouth opens on a gasp.
“What? Oh, you didn’t think I knew about that.” I laugh humorlessly as I glower down at him. “I know everything. I just didn’t happen to give a damn.”
“I am a Colonel. You will treat me with the respect I deserve, Captain.” His shaky words poke at the raging bear hibernating inside of me.
“Respect is for those who’ve fought with blood, sweat, and tears for their country. Made the ultimate sacrifice, one that can never be repaid. You . . . You aren’t among those worthy enough to deserve respect. You’re lucky I didn’t shoot you in the fucking head the moment I busted through that goddamn door.” My chest heaves with each breath I take. Heat blooms, creeping up my neck, spreading with my effervescent anger.
“Lucky for you, ya traitorous bastard, you have something I need. A little tidbit of information. And you will give it to me whether we do this the easy way or the hard way.”
“Oh . . . please choose the hard way. I’m itchin’ to get my hands on you,” Sam growls.
“W-What information? I don’t know anything. I was just having a little fun. Everyone does occasionally,” Black stammers.
“Cut the shit. We’ve got you on surveillance sneaking out the back entrance of the Tenpro House the night we ambushed Sang-Hyun. You didn’t know we were going to be there, and the panicked look on your face in the video tells me you were desperately trying to avoid us.”
“You must be mistaken, I-I was not there.”
With lightning fast reflexes, I move in, aiming my gun directly at his temple. “Give me the location. Where is the girl? Hmm?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Grant. You’re crazy, I will have you court-martialed for this.”
Laughing, I reply, “Good luck with that. Now tell me where Kylee is before my itchy finger puts you out of commission.”
A sultry voice hums in Korean from the corner. “Alex? Your name is Alex Grant?”
Whirling, I spin, leveling my gun on her. “How do you know my name?” I growl viciously in Korean.
“Kylee told me,” she calmly replies. The petite woman stares at me openly as if I’m some sort of savior come to rescue her from the depths of hell. Showing absolutely no fear, it’s as if she knows who I am. Goddess, could it be? Does she really know her?
“When?” I bark, unable to control the level of my voice.
“Some time ago. You must understand the days fuse together after a while.”
Her large beguiling eyes stare at me unabashedly. Clambering closer, I enter her personal space. My voice is eager, hopeful as I ask, “When was the last time you saw her?”
A dainty smile sweeps over her thin lips. “This morning,” she replies.
Thudding like a stallion on a racetrack, my heart gallops, careening out of control. The knot that’s been in my stomach for weeks on end loosens. Excitement courses through my veins, flooding my voice. “Where is she?” It’s a demand asked in the heat of the moment. Everything around me falls to the wayside as I focus on the petite woman who could be the answer to all my prayers.
Her beatific smile grows wider. “I can show you,” she beams. Her words take my breath away. All of the air leaves me in a sudden whoosh. After all this time, I’m going to get my Goddess back. For the first time in forever, a genuine smile spreads along my lips. She sucks in a breath before dropping her eyes to the bed.
“Uh. I hate to interrupt this blissful moment, but . . . Back Door Black is at it again.” Noah points to the window, where Black’s white ass has shimmied out and is streaking down the street naked. A feral growl erupts from inside of me, frustration quickly replacing my elation.
“Do you want us to go after him?” Sam questions. It takes all of two seconds for me to make a decision. With a firm shake of my head, I reply, “No. We’ll have plenty of time to go after Black later. Right now, let’s go rescue our Goddess.”
With laser-like focus, I zero in on the woman still curled up on the bed. My voice dips low, an edge of danger hinting at the threat within.
“If you’re lying and you can’t take us to her . . . you will pay. And let me just say that what we do to you will be far worse than anything you’ve experienced thus far.”
A tiny gasp is the only reaction I receive from her other than a stiff nod of understanding. New destination in hand, I bark out orders to my team to load the girl up.
With the streets of Seoul zooming past us under the guise of darkness once more, I blow out a breath of relief. Digging the phone out of my pocket, I dial the number, praying that he answers.
“Grant.”
“We have a location.”
“Where?”
“We’re in route. Tell me where you are. I can grab you on the way.”
“How did you find her?”
“Not the time to discuss it. We have someone leading us to her location. Send me your coordinates and I’ll be by shortly.”
“Just sent them.”
“Colonel.”
“Yeah?”
“Be ready. We’re going in hot.”
“Wouldn’t have it any other way, son.” Disconnecting the call, I hand the coordinates over to Brighton.
Settling back into the seat, my thoughts scatter, blurring together as the landscape passes us by. The images of Kylee bound and tortured flash before my eyes once more. Briefly closing my eyes, I try to send her a message, praying for her to hold out a little longer. In the back of my mind, I repeat the chant over and over, begging, pleading for Kylee to hear me on some level. Hang on, Goddess. I’m coming for you . . . tonight.
RAT-A-TAT-TAT.
Angrily, I swat the air in front of my nose. Stupid buzzing. How in the hell did a fly get in here, anyway? Or is it a mosquito? It’s not like the window is open. Is it? Ah, what does it matter? I swat the air in front of my nose again.
Rat-a-tat-tat.
Stupid sounds interrupting my silence. Groggily, I peel my eyes open one at a time. The room is a blurry haze of darkness. Moonlight shines in small slivers through the minuscule window on the wall. The corners of my lashes are fused together, gunk sealing them tightly. Reaching up, a moan of discomfort springs forth as I weakly rub my tattered eyes.
They feel like they’re full of sand and grit. Stiff muscles protest as I try to drag myself into a sitting position. How long have I been in this room? Memories start to resurface, my lip trembling as I think of my unborn child ripped from my womb. No, no. I’m not going to think of that.
Instead, my mind drifts, focusing on the one person who brought about this painful occurrence. The ache in my temples thumps, pounding wildly in my skull. My mother’s betrayal sends another broken shard stabbing into the remains of my deadened heart. In its place, the blackness grows. The cancerous ink slinking through my veins, fueling my rage, my very thirst for vengeance.
My teeth gnash, grinding together as loud breaths expel from my lips. Scuffling sounds come from just beyond the door. What is going on? My interest piques as the sounds dissipate. Grunting, I strain to get up, the soreness from my tense, unused muscles screaming with each move.
Rat-a-tat-tat.
There’s that sound again. Where have I heard that sound? My mind rampages, thoughts whizzing around as I desperately try to seek the answer to my own question. Wait. What was the question? My mind draws a blank.
Rat-a-tat-tat.
Yes! That . . . that’s it! Gunfire. Wait. Gunfire? Shuffling my feet, I move toward the door. Tiny steps are all that my unused muscles will allow.
Cramps seize my calves, flashes of pain shooting up my legs with the movement. My raw feet scream, pleading for me to stop, no longer willing to take the abuse. Sweat beads on my brow, dripping into my eyes as I trek my way across the room. With stiff arms, I reach up, wiping the sweat from my eyes. Questions begin assaulting me one by one as I shuffle like an old lady though the room. What is going on out there?
It sounds like World War III. What would make them randomly start firing like that? I’ve been here . . . The thought dies before it can even come to completion. I don’t know how long I’ve been here. Sickness churns in my belly, making me nauseated by the thought. Why does fate have to be such a cruel bitch?
Hadn’t I suffered enough as a child? Why did she have to bring her back into my life? I was just fine without her. Warmth splashes, hitting the back of my hand. Tears, the never-ending supply of rain falling from my eyes, cascade down my cheeks. The pulse in my neck thrums, careening out of control.
My nostrils flare as I angrily swipe away the tears. Tilting my head up to the ceiling, I bellow, “I will not cry over you any longer!”
Displeasure courses through me as I turn my anger on myself. “What is wrong with you? Why are you wasting tears over her? It’s not like she’s ever given a damn. Never has. Never will.” A hollow laugh springs forth, polluting the air. Each muscle tenses, quivering at the wrath building inside of me.
“She will pay . . .” The words are uttered with the utmost conviction, said to no one and everyone.
The air around me charges with tension, waves of unfettered rage tumbling through the air. My steps slow as I reach the door. Tentatively, I lean closer, placing my ear to the dense wood. My old friend silence greets me, not even the rat-a-tat-tat sound of bullets zinging in the air. My heart quickens, the shards pulsing in my battered chest. Holding my breath, I wait, listening for any signs of life beyond the door, beyond my little room of pain. Not hearing anything, I release the breath I’d been holding and look down at the handle. Biting my lip, I question.
Would they? No. It’s a foolish notion. They never have before. A little zing, something deep in my subconscious urges me to try it. It couldn’t hurt, right? What’s the worst that could happen? I’m stuck in my room of despair, anyway.
Cautiously, my fingers slide across the wood, sweeping along the dense planes. With shaky fingers, I grasp the handle, giving it a little twist. A bark of laughter sounds
loudly as my head jerks back from the door. They left the fucking thing unlocked. I can’t believe it. The damn door is unlocked!
Twisting the handle, I turn it, tugging at the door. It moves an inch before the heavy door stalls. Panting, I glower at the door. The weakened state of my body is making it difficult to lug the heavy door out of the way. Grunting, I tug, and it moves another inch before it stops. Pulling on the handle again, sharp pains shoot through my abdomen as hot, sticky fluid saturates my thighs.
My eyes widen in fear as I glance down, peering at my blood soaked legs. Pushing my shoulders back, I glare at the door with determination. There is no way a damn door is going to stand in my way of escaping this hellhole. Scrounging up all of the energy I can muster, I yank the handle as hard as I can. The door moves back several feet with an audible scrape against the concrete floor. With wide eyes, I peer around the doorway, praying it will be empty.
The long hallway is deserted, only the barest hints of light shine from the sconces on the wall. Frowning, my gaze darts left then right. I don’t know where I am. I’m unsure as to what direction even leads outside. “Well, you can always stay in the safety of the room,” the evil Kylee on my shoulder quips.
Looking at the evil bitch with disgust, I reply, “Screw you, bitch. You stay in there.” Slapping my forehead with my palm, I mutter, “Great, Kylee. You’re talking to yourself now. You have officially lost your cotton pickin’ mind.”
Allowing my gaze to dart both ways, I make a quick decision to turn left. Gradually, I begin the slow trek down the narrow corridor. Stumbling along, the uncomfortable pain in my abdomen makes it an even bigger challenge to walk. My chest heaves, the vise grip seizing my lungs squeezes, making it difficult to breathe. As I gradually move through the hall, silence surrounds me. The only sound that can be heard is that of my rapid breathing.
Fearing I will be overheard, I clamp a hand over my mouth as I reach the end of the hall. Peering around the corner, I curse. Before me lies another long, dimly lit hallway. A knot forms in my stomach as frustration threatens to cloud my judgment. Letting out a heavy sigh, I try to work out which direction to go. If I choose the corridor on the left, it seems to curve, doubling back the way I came.
Bound By Blood: (The Betrayed Series Book 2) Page 21
