The way Wynter takes charge of the situation has my dick so hard I’m surprised no one has noticed the tent in my pants. She’s been barking orders at each of us for hours as she uses her own laptop to watch security footage at Frost Industries around the time of the breach.
Storm is on the phone doing damage control from the mission, calling families to let them know their husbands, sons and fathers aren’t coming home tonight. As much as I’m pissed as hell at him, I don’t envy him for having to do that job.
Tommy is on the phone on the other side of the room coordinating security teams to mitigate the risk of the rat being able to do anything without someone noticing. He’s switching up the usual pairs, trying to make it impossible for them to make moves against us without their new partner tipping us off, but even that could fail.
And Rayne is pawing through files on all of Russo’s men that we’re aware of. If we can’t find the rat through our own people’s background checks, maybe there’s something in theirs we can use to link. After all, it’s not impossible to have things removed from the record, but were they smart enough to remove the evidence on the other side?
I’ve watched so many hours of traffic camera footage that I’m ready to throw the monitors across the room the same way Storm had earlier. Watching shit like this is the most monotonous task I ever have to do, except when I used to watch Wynter for hours at a time. That I could do all day.
A truck catches my eye on the interstate on the way out of the city. There’s nothing about it that seems particularly suspicious. Apart from the four black SUVs surrounding it. One in front, one behind, and one on each side. I change views to the next camera, the truck still traveling the same route. “Where are you taking it?” I murmur to myself.
“Have you got something?” Wynter perks up, her eyes brightening for the first time in hours.
“I think so.” I switch to another camera at the next exit, and then the next, until finally they exit at a turn I had almost completely forgotten about, one I’ve driven so many times I almost can’t count, never willingly. “Fuck,” I groan.
“What?” Storm crosses behind the desk, looking at the screens until his eyes settle on what I’m looking at. “Is that…”
“Yep.”
“Can someone tell me what the fuck is going on?” Wynter demands.
“We know where he’s taken the stuff from the warehouse,” I tell her.
“And?”
“There’s this farm on the outskirts of the city, it was my father’s property, he left it to me in his will, but Angelo took it over because he was my custodian and I never wanted it anyway. It has… bad memories.”
The words don’t seem like enough to describe all the times I was forced to kill people there, for them to be fed to the pigs like some old mafia movie. It was part of our training to take their place when the time came. Elijah loved it. The blood. The hunt. The kill. He thrived on it. Hell, he still does. But killing for the sake of killing never sat well with me.
Wynter’s eyes track my movements, a hint of knowing behind the ice of her irises. There were days at a time when she wouldn’t hear from me when we were younger, and every time I came back I was more withdrawn. She was always the only person who could bring me back, who could distract me from the guilt. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve killed my fair share of men for Frost, but never for no reason, and never against my will.
“Is there enough space out there?” Rayne asks.
He and Storm know of the farm, I told them one night during a drunken bender when I left Wynter and we went to set the place on fire. Except, when we got there I couldn’t do it. Something about it felt meaningful to the man I had become, a man free of my family and their influence. Now I wish I watched the fucking place go up in flames.
“We haven’t been up there in a few years to scope the place out. There’s more than enough space, but only a few small buildings,” I say, quickly bringing up a satellite feed.
If they had the foresight to build on the land, that could mean they’ve had this plan in motion for years, which means we are more than a little behind the eight ball. My eyes scan the screen as I locate the farm, and when I find what I’m looking for I can’t help the roar that climbs up my throat.
“Motherfuckers.”
“They’ve built on it?” Rayne asks.
Storm is over my shoulder looking at exactly what I am, and his own intake of breath tells me when she sees what I’m seeing. “Oh yeah. Looks like a goddamn army base. Security, bunkers, the whole nine yards.”
“Which explains why they’ve been quiet on the streets. They’re getting ready for something big,” Rayne muses.
“They’re getting ready to take us out,” Wynter whispers.
“Okay, so at least we know where their shit is, but I don’t know how much luck we’re going to have hitting it, especially with a rat in the mix to tip them off,” Storm says as he starts pacing. It must be a Saint James trait to think better as you walk around a room aimlessly.
“We need to hit one of the cousins,” Tommy suggests. “They’re coming after Wynter, so it’s time we go after them. They’ve had the upper hand the whole time because you’ve been mourning your parents, and before that we were just trying to get on our feet after Emerson was taken. It’s time we get ahead of the game and start taking down key players.”
Storm nods and takes another look at the screen. “We need to figure out who we can trust, or we need to hire in some help who won’t betray us.”
“I know some guys.” Tommy pulls his phone out and starts tapping away. “I can probably have them here by tomorrow, they’re based in New York, but they’re not loyal to any one family.”
“Which means they could double cross us just the same as anyone else,” Rayne groans.
“Nah, not these guys. They always get the job done, guaranteed. And Russo doesn’t have any allies in New York, at least we do.” Tommy shrugs as if that’s comforting to any of us. The fact that we have to rely on people outside the family, that we’ve never met doesn’t sit right with me, but I don’t know what other choice we have right now.
“Call them,” Storm says and then turns to me. “Let’s go to bed. It’s four in the morning and we’ve done everything we can for tonight. Tommy, if you can have your guys here as soon as possible, we can’t wait long to retaliate because even though you killed every motherfucker in that warehouse tonight, them not returning from the mission will tell them we hit them.”
Wynter says a quiet goodnight to everyone and is the first to leave, closing the door gently behind her. She held her own tonight, even when everything was falling apart and she had the most vulnerable time in her life exposed, she held her chin high and got on with it.
“We underestimated Wynter,” Storm admits.
I smirk. “Told you.”
He glares at me. “You shut the fuck up. I just mean that she handled everything, she got straight into research without having to take a minute, she called shots like she was fucking born to do this.”
“She was.” I smile. “The two of you are cut from the same cloth, except she doesn’t destroy shit when things go south.”
“I swear to God,” Storm growls.
“That’s enough, you two,” Rayne snaps. “I think we were too hasty in not teaching her this side of the business.”
“Dad would be rolling over in his fucking grave if he knew we had his little girl working on this shit,” Storm retorts.
“No, he’d be proud as hell that his daughter is a strong woman who can bring men to their fucking knees.” Rayne looks to me, a smirk playing on his lips. “I guess I won’t have to beat your ass if you break her heart again, she’ll do it for me.”
“There will be no heart breaking. The minute this shit is over, there’s a ring going on her finger.”
“Aren’t you meant to ask our permission or some shit?” Storm asks.
“Your dad gave it to me, it was in my letter.” I chuckle as I stroll out of the room. Wynter may be able to make men fall to their knees, but my little dove is about to fall to hers for me.
