by J Bree
"He's tracking her. Thanks, kid. If there were any other way—"
"Don't fucking give me that, I told you I'd help you with whatever you needed and if I say something I always follow through. Odie is worth it. I'll call you once it's done."
She hangs up before I can get another word in but there’s not much else I can say to her besides she’s too fucking good for the Bay.
Too fucking good to be friends with someone like me.
I hit the highway and really let my Mustang fly, pedal to the metal, ready to cut the trip in half if I can. There isn't a cop in the city who doesn't know who this car belongs to and none of them would ever want to pull me over and deal with the Butcher, especially if I'm tearing around like this.
A blind man would know I'm not in the best of fucking moods.
Please, don't let him hurt her. Don't let him torture her with his personal brand of fucking evil. Not my baby girl.
The phone rings and interrupts my useless praying.
"Luca's on the move but they're heading back to the Bay."
Fuck. That'll be the kid.
"Is there any way you can track the place they've left her? Hack into the fucking... house or whatever?"
The asshole snorts at me. "What fucking TV shows are you binging, man? There's no such fucking thing as hacking into a house. I've got the cell towers bugged and I'm listening for anything that might tip me off to people close to her but... fuck, without bugging the place myself there's fuck-all I can do except listen and wait."
I grit my teeth. Contain the rage, it's not the little asswipe's fault. "Call me the second something pings."
I hang up and shout, "fuck!" at the windshield, as if that'll fucking help.
The rest of the drive is like fucking torture.
Two hours of driving like the Devil himself is on my fucking ass and swerving through the traffic. My head is pounding with the pent up rage in me. The poison in my blood is begging for release, to kill and maim and torture, and being cooped up like this... it's fucking bad.
When I make it to Three Rivers, a shitty little speck of dust on the map, I have to slow it down a little, just enough to navigate my way through the place to find the GPS coordinates.
It brings me to a tiny little fucking house.
It's then that I realize that I don't know real torture, not until I find it fucking empty.
Fucking.
Empty.
There's a bed in one of the rooms and, fuck me, there's a pair of handcuffs hanging from the bedpost. I lose my ever-loving mind and punch a hole in the door, just fucking shredding it like the wood is nothing.
Once I get my head back together I call the Coyote back.
“You’re there, man. That's where they had her, if she's not there then... she's gone."
The drive back to the Bay is like pulling my fingernails out with fucking pliers.
I tore the house to fucking pieces first, fucking nothing, and then I started calling in my contacts, every last one of them until I had nothing left.
Nothing.
Then I called the kid and she didn't answer it, texting me the second the call ends.
She isn't with the Jackal. I'll find out what I can.
I think I might actually fucking drop dead. The rage pumping through my system is like poison, skewing everything and messing with my damn mind. I can't survive another wait like the last one. I can't go back to business as usual while I know she's out there being fucking brutalized. There's no fucking way.
I need the backup if I'm going to fucking find her.
So I drive straight for the fishing docks in the Bay, finding a bloodthirsty sort of calm settle over me, where I look okay until you touch me and then I'll rip your fucking arm off and chew the meat straight from the bone.
Fuck me, I'm going to tear Harbin and Roxas a new asshole each for ignoring my calls. They'll be lucky to survive me... one wrong word and I'll be down to one friend.
I can't think about whatever it is the kid said to D'Ardo to try and get him away from Odie. Not without feeling like the biggest fucking asshole in all of the Bay.
So I don't think about it, I just keep my foot planted on the pedal until the Mustang is straining to keep up with me the whole damn trip back. It's a wonder I make it back alive.
The fishing docks are teeming with bodies, it’s a fucking strange sight to see. I have enough brains still left in my head to park a block away and get closer on foot. I don't need to be stuck out here with no car thanks to a bullet in my fucking tires or my gas tank. There are bikers fucking everywhere, and all of them are Chaos Demons. Here I was thinking we'd gotten rid of these assholes but nope, hoards of them are loitering around, drinking and smoking. There's biker sluts wandering around in next to nothing, one of them even getting fucked loudly spread out over a hog.
I don't have time for this bullshit.
I need to find my fucking friends and get the fuck out of here, the longer I’m held up the more hell my girl could be going through. I palm a gun because bullets are better in this crowd than knives and a cleaver, and creep forward. There’s no scouts out clearly because everyone I pass is too fucking drunk to stop me from moving forward. I get all the way to the first bonfire, a fucking bonfire in the middle of the parking lot, before I’m stopped.
A hand grabs my arm and I turn on my heel ready to shoot some biker scum between the eyes, only to come face-to-face with Colt motherfucking Graves. He looks a little less beat up than the last time I saw him but fuck does he look pissed.
Why the fuck does he look so familiar?
He drags me behind one of the shipping containers where we have a little cover. Not a lot, but enough that we can have a little chat without catching bullets in our backs while we’re unaware.
"The fuck do you think you're doing here, Butcher? I thought we had an agreement." He hisses and I roll my eyes at him. I haven’t got time for goddamn biker politics, not at all.
"We have fucking nothing, but if you don't wanna die you'll get the fuck outta here. Tonight isn't the fucking night, man." I don’t even attempt to lower my voice, fuck the lot of them.
He looks over my shoulder, ducking around the corner a little and I’m guessing he’s eyeing his pops, because sure as shit Grimm is here. I take a half breath, just enough to not shoot him straight away. That breath costs me. It fucking costs me a whole lot because the bloodlust is riding me hard and I already know exactly how to hurt this motherfucker.
There must be something in my eyes because he gets one look at the crazed, manic energy there and grunts under his breath. "Fuck. It's the girl, isn't it? The bombshell."
Nope.
Not a good thing to say to me.
I don’t move a single muscle but he spots his mistake and takes a big fucking step back. "Fuck, I didn't mean it like that. I've got my own chick back home, man, I'm not sniffing around after yours. What the fuck are you here for? Chance is here but he's not going to be easy pickings for you tonight."
I frown at him, having completely fucking forgotten the reasons I'd grabbed him in the first place. The Viper’s agendas mean less than fucking nothing to me now. "I don't give a fuck about your little sibling rivalry. I'm looking for my friends. If they're here, I'm gutting whoever has brought them here."
Colt frowns and glances back at the centre of the party again. “The Unseen guys? Fuck. There’s no way Grimm’s gonna hand them over to you, man. I get that you’re the biggest bad in this city but you can’t take Grimm and his Council. That’s fucking suicide and you’re not going to get your woman back like that.”
I glance around again and try to think a little clearer, let the haze of my rage go a little and look at things rationally. Nope. Still think I could shoot them all and get my friends back to go to fucking work.
Colt does a quick look around himself and then curses under his breath. “Is that one your friend too? Fuck me, tonight is a fucking disaster waiting to fucking happen.”
I turn to find H
arbin stumbling towards me, war and death etched into his face as clear as fucking day.
Good.
They’re some odds I can get behind.
His voice doesn’t have an inch of humor in it as he says, "Now it's a fucking party. Did you get our distress signals? Fuck man, we must be fucking butt-buddies at this point because I was just thinking I should call you in. Where the fuck is the kid? I feel like we need her in this fight. We killing this one? Let me do it, I’ve had a fucking night.“
I spin on my heel and stalk towards him, my fingers itching for my cleaver. “I don’t have time to deal with these assholes right now, I need backup and I need it the fuck now."
Harbin grimaces and rubs his face. "Fuck man. What’s happened?"
I fill him in, ignoring the biker kid still standing there full of fucking attitude but watching me with careful eyes. Fuck it, I don't even care.
“Fuck, what did the kid do to get him to leave your girl? She really took one for the team like that, man, you’re right about her.“
I shrug. "Yeah, when she says something, she follows the fuck through with it. Where the fuck is Roxas? We've gotta bounce. I’ll help you hack this lot to pieces once my girl is safe and home.“
Harbin scratches the back of his head with a grimace. “Fuck, of all the nights to have fucking hell break loose with your jealous jilted lover. After the demons took out the Dive we let them take Roxas as a trap, so now we're about to take out as many of the fuckers as we can. That’s going to eat up a whole fucking heap of the night though, man… if you’re on board to clean house then we can bounce. I just need to get Roxas back.”
He looks over at Colt and raises an eyebrow. "I guess we've already got us some extra bait here. How much do you think daddy is going to pay for your skin, little Colt?"
The biker kid doesn't flinch. "You'd be lucky to get a dime outta him for any of his kids, man, he doesn't give a fuck."
"What are you doing here then? Turning on your club?"
The scowl he gives is a good one, fucking fierce. "I live and bleed for the Demons, dickhead. I'm here because the Butcher was about to get his fucking head blown off and I knew there was a sweet blonde waiting for him back home. I don't know much about heaven and hell but I know when my soul is in danger of permanent damage and hurting that angel ain't what I'm about."
Okay.
So this biker is okay too, I guess.
Okay enough that I won’t kill him tonight and unless he stabs me in the back I’ll look the other fucking way.
"Right, enough bullshitting around. Odie's in fucking danger and I'm done with this pow wow. We're getting Roxas and we're leaving, whatever the fucking cost." I snap, and Harbin nods, pulling a gun out and peering around the corner.
Colt rubs the back of his head and then gives me a look. "Wanna kill two birds with one stone, Butcher? I have a proposition for you."
I move away from him. "I don't have fucking time for this shit, get gone Colt. Before you get dead."
He grabs my arm again and I think about choking the fucker out.
“The Jackal fucked you over, right? Took the angel you protect and is probably trying to hurt her. Well, let me help you fuck him over. Tell me where the Jackal keeps his drugs. Tell me where they’re stored and I'll take the Demons there right now, hit him while he's busy with the Wolf and force him into a face-off with the Demons. That way, this fight is his problem and not yours, and it gets him moving fucking fast. I can have the Demons moving in ten minutes."
Fuck me.
Fuck me, that’s a great plan.
I raise an eyebrow at Harbin, I respect his opinion just enough to get it now but he’s nodding. Hmm. The answer was a little too quick but I’ll question him about it later, once Odie’s safe.
It feels fucking amazing to hand over every tiny detail of the Jackal's inner business, every little piece of information the Demons need to clean out his warehouse and take out half his fucking business in a single night. Clearly Harbin can read it on me too because the death in his eyes eases up enough to grin at me.
Colt is gone the moment I’m done spilling every secret D’Ardo had ever given me about his business, some of them things I’ve worked out for myself and some of them things he hasn’t told anyone else.
I feel fucking lighter.
It’s like the final act of washing him outta my head, and only his death is left to get him outta my life too. Harbin peers out at the Demons, his cut noticeably missing but I guess he’s trying to blend in a little.
“You’re fine with them having a great night full of someone else’s drugs and money?”
He shrugs. “I’m playing the long game. The Boar is going to be fucking pissed but that’s never fucking stopped me before.”
True.
Fucking true.
The motorcycles start up around us. Colt is true to his word, the entire group of bikers are moving out less than ten minutes later, Roxas and the other Unseen sitting there by themselves tied to a fucking bench.
"What the fuck happened to our plan? I'm ready to bathe in Demon blood here!" He yells out the second he sees us walking up.
Harbin cuts him a look. "Bigger shit man, more urgent."
"What the fuck is more urgent than Demons in our fucking city? I took a fucking hit to the dick for this plan, I don't really wanna let that slide, man."
Harbin scoffs. "Yeah, I'm sure you don't. Odie is gone. Illi will square it with us later, get moving.”
My phone starts buzzing in my pocket and I stalk away from them, right as the other Unseen start arguing. I’ll gut them if I stick around and, again, time is of the fucking essence tonight.
I blow out a breath when I see it’s Lips. "What do you have for me, kid?"
“I found her. I found who bought her, one of the Vulture’s old contacts. I’m heading back to the group home to grab my supplies, come get me.”
I tip my head back and thank every fucking god, deity, spirit, star sign, and fucking moon I can think of for this kid.
“I’m naming my firstborn after you, kid. Fuck. I’m on my way. How did you get the intel?”
She chuckles and I hear her panting a little as she jogs. Must be killing her leg, more reason to fucking love her. “Nope, you really don’t want an Eclipse running around. I went through Matteo’s shit. Kinda hoping he’s busy enough not to notice. I wasn’t as careful as I usually am because… well, you know why I’m rushing. Get your ass moving, Butcher.”
I grin and start jogging to my own car, jerking my head at Harbin and Roxas to get them moving too. “I’ve sent him a little ‘Fuck you’ gift, kid. Don’t you worry bout a thing.”
She chuckles under her breath. “I’m sending you the coordinates but make sure you come grab me, yeah? You know I'm coming. You know nothing is stopping me from being there and gutting anyone that's touched her."
I could fucking weep at her conviction but I don't have that sort of shit in me so instead I hang up and get to my car.
Chapter Four
Odie
I know instantly that I have been bought by a different class of man.
None of the men who come to collect me harm me in any way. They don’t attempt to touch me or speak down to me, there are no threats whispered at me or violence directed at me at all.
It’s as if I’m some precious jewel being transported by studious caretakers.
It makes my skin crawl.
None of this is happening because they care about me or think of me as a person, as a human being deserving respect and kindness. No. I'm a commodity and... and fuck am I sick of being a something for men to covet.
I hear that expletive in my head in mon Monstre’s voice and my heart breaks just a little.
But no, I'm not ever going to be a scared little girl again, a chained victim to be raped and toyed with at some disgusting man's whims.
They unchain me and direct me to walk with them out of the safe house and into the waiting cars. Bentleys, three matte black Be
ntleys and each of them have drivers.
I take stock of what weapons each of the men are wearing. There's no point in trying to run, I don't even know Illi's phone number to call him. The first thing I'm doing when he finds me is memorizing it and making a plan for the next time something like this happens.
I'm not even going to pretend it won't ever happen again.
The men are all carrying a lot of guns, not many knives. Mon Monstre had made me practice on so many different types of guns that if I can get my hands on one I know I'll be okay. I need to keep count of how many of these men there are as well. Le Loup had taught me all about that.
Less chances of being caught unaware.
Nine armed men, three drivers in the Bentleys and me. Okay. So it will depend on what sort of guns they have, but I might be able to kill them all if they have an automatic handgun. I'd have to have a perfect shot though, which will be harder.
I need two or three guns and a steady arm.
I'm helped into the back of the car, a man seated on either side of me, and I don't breathe a word to them. I just watch them all. I watch them and I look for all of the little clues and cues that le Loup had taught me. The way the men hold themselves. The words they use between each other. All of the things their bodies are saying, the way the silence in the car sounds. A million little things that I'd been so confused and overwhelmed with during the lessons, all of them are vital to my survival now.
And I'm going to survive this.
The driver is my best chance of getting a gun.
He's quieter but he's asked a few questions and keeps glancing back at me. He's new to this operation and unsure of what the protocol is. He'll be less likely to have a good grasp on how to interact with me. I don't know if I'll get left with him but that would be my best chance.
He also has a phone.
It's a smartphone and it opens with facial recognition so I could use the GPS to get back to the Bay. I haven't ever driven a car before so I shift my focus over to the mechanics of what the driver is doing. It doesn't seem so hard. The pedals make the car stop and go, and he isn't moving the stick much like Illi had to in his car.
