There was something wrong…something more than the sick fucking dog fights and foul laughter that spilled out. I didn’t like that Amo fucker. Not one bit. I stood there at the doorway of his office, watching as he laughed and cheered when they led two more dogs into the ring, kicking them and punching them before ripping off their muzzles and throwing them at each other.
They stood back and watched the show. My gut clenched, hate and acid scalding the back of my throat as I shifted my gaze to that little puppy still on the concrete floor, cast aside like it was nothing…until its rear leg moved. It moved.
I ground my teeth, my focus fixed on that movement. I stared until my gaze blurred…then I saw it. It breathed. Its little chest rose, then fell. I jerked my gaze to the others, but they were too busy cheering and screaming under the deafening howls and whimpers of the dogs.
Amo looked down at his phone…for the fifth time. He glanced my way, the chilling focus making my pulse race. Something was wrong…like really wrong. I broke the stare, turning back to that barely alive pup. But he didn’t care what I was looking at. Instead, Amo turned back to the fight, unleashing a roar to pump the fight up even more. Until one by one, the guys leaned over too close and one of the pitbulls leaped, grabbed him around the arm, and thrashed.
Screams erupted. Amo and the others lunged as chaos broke out. I smiled at the asshole’s screams, and instead of the blood and the panic, I turned my attention behind me…to the office. I stepped in, moving to the mess of paperwork on the desk. One swipe and a photo was revealed. A man, standing in some darkened alley, looking right at the camera.
I knew him…
My stomach clenched.
The photo was blurry, but I knew Jack Castlemaine when I saw him. I knew because I’d checked the guy out before I drove Ryth to Mitchelton Prison. This was him. I pushed the photo aside, to find Tobias’ face, then Caleb’s…and mine. A name was written under Jack Castlemaine’s image. Sebastian Black. I’d never heard that name…but it was important, somehow. I jerked my gaze high, panic roaring. Instinct screamed as I shoved the papers back over the photos and moved, stepped out of the office, and rounded the back of the warehouse.
I had to move, had to do something. Standing there, I was a goddamn sitting duck.
I knew something was way off. They had our photos. That only meant one thing. They’d been paid for a hit and we’d just strolled right into their fucking crosshairs. “Jesus, T!” He was in trouble…big fucking trouble. I grabbed my phone, moved around some stacked crates, and punched T’s number, listening to it ring.
It went unanswered. I tried again.
“Answer the fucking phone, T,” I muttered, and stopped beside a wooden crate. The top was lifted. I stopped, listening to the phone ringing, and shoved the top aside. There were grenades and half a crateful of C4. “Fuck.”
I hung up, grabbed three grenades, and turned.
My phone rang and I answered it without thinking.
“Nick?”
I froze…no…this wasn’t real. She wasn’t. “Ryth?”
“Nick!”
“Princess?” I growled, forgetting everything else for a second. “Is that you?”
“It’s me. It’s me. I don’t have much time.”
I almost wept with relief until it hit me. “You okay, princess?”
“Yes, for now, but not for long.”
“We know where you are. You hear me? We know where you are and we’re fucking coming. Just hold on, baby. We’re fucking coming.”
The line went dead. I ripped the phone from my ear and looked at the screen. She was gone. I pressed the button, but found the number was unlisted. I thought of calling it back, until I stopped. If she’s in trouble, if calling that number drew attention to her, I’d never live with myself.
Instead, I shoved my phone into my pocket. There was no waiting, not for T, or anyone else. Not anymore. I needed to find a way inside that compound. Now. I yanked the pin from a grenade as I strode around the corner of the office.
“Hey, asshole!” I called out, and tossed the grenade through the air.
BOOM!
The thing detonated against the pit…but Amo wasn’t there. I scanned the space, catching movement as he stepped out from the office. His scowl flickered for a second before he lunged. My ears rang with the explosion, but his screams of rage still pushed in as he hit me.
Agony tore through my side, but I didn’t have time to protect myself. I just reacted, driving my fist up as I turned and unleashing a backhand that cracked across the bastard’s face. His head snapped to the side and blood spewed from his nose. From the pit, the second dog came, lunging for the nearest guy.
Sickening sounds of terror came.
“Nick!” I jerked my gaze as my brother came running across the space, his eyes wide, his face splattered with blood. Christ, he was a mess. He just raised the gun in his hand. Crack! The shot rang out, slamming into Amo.
The bastard spun away from me.
“You doublecrossing piece of shit.” Tobias sucked in a harsh breath and strode forward. “You come for me? You come for my brothers?”
“T,” I croaked, staring at him. He was a bloody mess, but there was something unhinged in his gaze, something that terrified me.
Amo just sneered and wiped at the blood blooming along his side. T just sucked in another deep breath, holding Amo’s gaze. “Let’s go, Nick.”
I tightened my side muscles and gripped the last two grenades, stepping away. My brother looked like a stranger, harder, colder—bloodier. He aimed the gun at Amo as I approached. The pitbulls were gone, the two assholes who’d beaten them now silent. Blood was everywhere, splattered all over the pit and pooled on the floor.
“Come after us again, and I’ll come back…and next time I won’t come back alone,” Tobias warned.
“I heard the word,” Amo snarled. “You and the Rossis are at war.”
“You think so, do you?” Tobias held up his phone and pressed the button, then put the call on speaker.
It was answered on the second ring. “T.” Lazarus Rossi’s deep snarl echoed.
“Yeah,” Tobias muttered. “It’s me. I just want to check we’re good, brother?”
There was a second before Lazarus answered. “Yeah, we’re good. You okay?”
Tobias took the call off speaker. “Yeah, sure,” he said, his gaze fixed on Amo. “I’ll call you soon.”
Then he hung up the call, slipped his phone into his pocket, and pulled out the keys for the Jeep. A jerk of his hand and he tossed them through the air toward me. I snatched them with a hand holding a grenade. I was already moving, heading for the half-open garage door.
Until I stopped and glanced down.
The little Rottweiler puppy still lay there, eyes open, breaths shallow. I shoved the pinned end of the grenade between my teeth before I bent and picked it up. The little thing never gave a whimper, not even a yelp. I had to be hurting it as I carried it out the door and strode toward the Jeep.
“Easy, buddy,” I urged as I stopped at the car, held him as carefully as I could, and opened the four-wheel drive’s door.
Boom!
The crack of a gunshot made me turn and look toward the warehouse as my brother strode out and lipped under the door before heading my way. I tossed him back the keys, then yanked open the passenger door and placed the torn-up puppy on the floor before I climbed in.
“What happened? I thought you were leaving him alive?”
Tobias climbed in behind the wheel and started the engine. “I changed my mind.” He glanced to the floor at my feet, then met my gaze. The puppy whimpered and licked my leg. “I couldn’t leave him.”
Tobias snorted a quiet chuckle. “You mean her, right?”
Her? I jerked my gaze down to the puppy as it lifted its leg and licked a wound. It was female…
My heart pounded as T pulled out and drove forward. The headlights splashed against a motorbike lying on the ground. We quickly left the carnage behind. I caught a glimpse of the two escaped pitbulls as we hit the asphalt and sped away.
“What the fuck happened with you?” I looked at the blood that covered my brother’s face. The dashboard lights made the splatter look black.
He glanced into the rear-view mirror and tried to wipe the mess away. “Nothing good.”
We headed for the city, watching for red and blue lights that were sure to come. Headlights from the oncoming cars were blinding. All I could hear was the dull hum from the traffic as we pulled up at the set of lights outside some exclusive clubs. Two guys climbed out of a Bentley. It took me a second before I realized who it was.
“Isn’t that Caleb?” I muttered, drawing Tobias’ gaze.
We didn’t move, even when the lights turned green and horns blared behind us. Cars went around us as our brother adjusted his collar. He looked good, smiling at the asshole he was with as they headed for some expensive-looking club.
“Is he…”
“Having a good fucking time, by the looks of it,” T growled, finally moving the Jeep forward.
I caught the turn of Caleb’s head as T drove away.
“Goddamn bastard.” T forced the words through clenched teeth. “Goddamn selfish fucking bastard!”
I didn’t know if he’d seen us…but we’d seen him. Seen him looking just like our dad. Laughing. Drinking…hooking up with who the fuck knew, like he didn’t even care Ryth was in that place.
