Chantal Fernando (7 page)

NINE

Sin

T
HEY
don't see us coming.

“They should probably up their security,” I hear Ranger mutter under his breath, as he and Arrow disable the alarm to their entrance gate. “Idiots.”

They've probably never been raided before, like we were that fateful night Mary died. Maybe they'll learn from this too, and do something about their protection, but for now, this helps us break into their clubhouse with ease. By the time we're inside, it's too late for them. Arrow and Tracker knock out the two prospects who are meant to be keeping an eye out for anything, and then we storm inside.

Time to take over what is theirs.

Working as a unit, with me at the front and the rest of the men to my left and right, in the shape of an arrow, we enter their clubhouse silently, guns pointed, minds on one thing and one thing only.

Finding Faye.

We clear two rooms before we come across Ripper, the Kings of Hell MC president, asleep in his bed. My gun is pointed at his temple before his brown eyes even open. He tries to reach for his gun, but it's not there. Yeah, this isn't my first rodeo.

“Get up,” I demand. “We need to have a little talk. And don't fuckin' try anything.”

Eyes wide, he slowly moves to sit up, pushing the blanket off him, revealing a shirtless chest I could have gone without seeing. Keeping my eyes on his, I take a step back, allowing him space to get out of the bed. “Rally your men into one room. Anyone tries anything, you all die.”

He nods and exits the bedroom, entering what looks like their club's main living area. Ten minutes later, between my men and Ripper, we've gotten everyone together, guns pointed in every direction. It might seem dangerous, because we're actually outnumbered, but each of our men could take two of theirs easily. I'm that confident in us. I glance around the room, making eye contact with each man.“I'm looking for my wife. Who here can tell me where she is? And don't fuckin' bother saying you don't know shit. I'm not bluffing, I will fuckin' kill anyone I have to, to find her.”

I then address Ripper. “If my wife isn't returned to me, now, your men will have to vote in a new president, because I'm going to kill you,” I tell him, staring him dead in the eye so he knows how serious I am. “Then I'm going to kill the next president too. And any that come after that.”

One of the men moves to tackle Tracker, who proceeds to shoot him in the foot.

“Fuck!” the man yells, dropping to the ground and grabbing the wound, trying to stop the bleeding. I glance around the room once more, a schooled expression of boredom on my face. They don't need to know that, right now, I'm dying inside.

I can imagine what I look like: like a man who has everything to lose, a man who will do anything to get back the woman he loves.

A dangerous man.

“As you can see, we aren't fucking around,” I continue, cracking my neck from side to side. “Anyone else want to try anything? Next time, I don't think Tracker will be so nice.”

“Knee next,” Tracker says, smirking. “Then farther up.”

One of the men shudders.

I wait until Arrow makes eye contact with me, then nod at him.

He punches the man in front of him in the nose. I don't even wince at the cracking sound.

“Tell us what we need to know, or next I will break your neck,” Arrow says in a low, calm tone that is much more intimidating than if he had yelled. With Arrow, you just know that he means what he says. “One of you better speak up, or this isn't going to end well. I don't care who it is.” When the man doesn't speak, Arrow moves to hit him again, until he puts his hands up in surrender. “Okay, okay,” he says, throat working as he swallows. He looks to Ripper, as if asking him what to do, wanting to see what his president's orders are.

Ripper tightens his jaw, weighing his options, but then finally nods. “Tell him.”

“She's being held in a warehouse.”

“Give me the address,” I tell him. “Now.”

He gives me the address, keeping his head down and avoiding eye contact. I look to Tracker. “Who wants to stay with him and make sure he's not lying? I think someone should take him somewhere else, in case the men here try something.”

“They won't,” Ripper says, but I ignore him. “I don't know about Slice though. He's the wild card here, but you can't take out his actions on our club. He hasn't even been patched in yet!”

I freeze, catching Talon's eye before looking back to the Kings' president. “What the fuck did you just say?”

Why the fuck would the Kings MC be talking about Slice?

I'm confused as fuck, until all the pieces start to fall together in my mind.

That fuckin' bastard.

Slice, Talon's former second-in-command, is the traitor?

This has to burn Talon. Fuck, he was just saying how he trusts Slice more than anyone else in the Wild Men MC.

Fuck!

“I had no fuckin' idea, Sin,” Talon says, sounding shocked. “That fuckin' bastard!”

“I know,” I say to Talon, my eyes still on Ripper.

I'll let Talon handle Slice, as long as he shows him no mercy. I just want to find Faye and have her in my arms, so my heart can start beating properly again.

Slice is going to pay, that's for sure. He's caused so much trouble for everyone, just because he's a disloyal piece of shit. I have to admit, even I'm fuckin' surprised; although looking back, we probably should've seen this. Why didn't Slice want to join us with Ranger and Talon? We thought it was just because he was loyal to the Wild Men, but how fuckin' wrong we were.

“Vinnie, you and Ranger take him somewhere until all of this is over. If my wife is hurt, or if he's lying, Ripper dies.” I nod at him. “Tell your men to stay out of our way, or they won't make it home to their families tonight.”

I think this is the safest way to do it. If Vinnie and Ranger have the Kings' president away from all this, we can use him as a hostage without having to worry about the other Kings coming after us. I'll take the rest of the Wind Dragons with me to the warehouse, because we don't know how many men are already there, waiting to fight. It can turn ugly, and we need to be prepared.

“All right, let's go,” I say, bringing the Kings' president to his feet and dragging him outside.

Let's just hope this works.

Faye

“I always knew you were stupid, Eric,” I say, sitting down on the floor, against the wall. “I mean, let's start with cheating on me—any man with half a brain wouldn't have done that—and now this. What the fuck are you doing? You're with the Kings now?”

Does he think that joining an MC will make him more like Dex? Will earn him respect? How deluded can he be?

His whole expression changes, and right then and there I see something I've never seen before on his face.

Hate.

Eric Black hates me.

No, he
despises
me. After all these years.

Why? I have no idea. I thought we were all good, but apparently not. Or does this have to do with him and Sin? Maybe this isn't about me at all.

Some people need to get a fucking hobby.

“It's been years since I've even seen you, Eric,” I say quietly, not sure what to make of this. “And now you want me dead? Or is it your own brother you want gone?”

We're the parents of his niece and nephew. Not that he sees them much, but he could have—I mean, Dex's mom still saw them every now and again. She passed away about three months ago. Does that have something to do with this? She died from a heart attack, and maybe Eric isn't taking it well. Or is he blaming Dex for some reason? Something must have set him off, because I had no idea he was capable of something like this. He sits back in his chair like he's a fucking king or something. I don't get him. Does he have some complex because he will always be
nothing
compared to Dex? He lacks in every possible way. Looks, character, strength.

Heart.

“I think it's time my brother is taken down a notch,” he says, and I notice that his eyes are dead. There's nothing there. Eric is a completely different person. What's happened to this man?

“And you're going to do that by killing me?” I ask him, lifting my chin. “By leaving my children without a mother?”

I can take Eric on in a fight. There's no question about that. I could kill him right now, but it won't get me out of here. Will it save Dex from his brother's hate though? I won't get past the men outside—there's too many of them—and Eric hasn't tried to physically hurt me yet. Will he?

I wish Dex were here right now, not because I need him to tell me what to do, but because at the end of the day, Eric is still his brother, and that means something. You can not talk to your family, or have a falling-out with them, or even hate them, but you still don't want them dead, especially at your own hands. I don't want what happens today haunting Dex. And it will. He's human, after all; it would haunt any man or woman with a conscience.

“Not going to kill you, Faye,” he says, lip twitching. “I'm going to kill Dex.”

“I see,” I murmur, marveling over his stupidity. You can't kill Dex without killing me, because I will hunt you down. He's underestimating me. He's seeing me as the girl he knew, not the warrior woman I've become. “And then what?”

“And then the Kings are going to have my back against any retaliation the Wind Dragons plan. It will be war,” he says proudly, like war is a good thing. The more he speaks his idiocy, the more I want to take him down myself. The Kings have obviously used him as a pawn, a secret weapon against Dex, and he's fallen for it hook, line, and sinker. They probably made him feel important, and they have something in common—their dislike for Dex.

I hear banging noises, followed by gunshots and men yelling, and I'm instantly on alert. I push myself off the ground, my back still pressed against the wall. Eric lifts up his gun and points it at me.

“Don't move,” he barks, standing up and crooking his finger. “Come here, Faye.”

It's just me and him in the room, and he still thinks he has control. I have a few moments to decide what to do. I can kill him, or I can just fight and disable him until Dex walks through that door, as I know he will. I decide to go with that. I walk toward Eric, about to knock the gun out of his hands and punch him in the throat, when the door is suddenly kicked open. I freeze as Dex storms in, gun in hand. Eric grabs me by my hair and jams his gun into my ribs. I keep my eyes on my husband's face, on his expression when he sees who is standing in the room with me.

His own brother.

That has to hurt.

Dex looks me over first, from head to toe. His jaw tightens when he sees my cut lip from where my captor slapped me. He returns his gaze to his baby brother.

“Eric?” Dex whispers, shaking his head in disbelief. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

He takes a step forward, but Eric brings the gun to my temple. Dex's face turns to stone. “Get the gun away from my wife, Eric. Now. Don't be stupid. Whatever they've promised you, it isn't worth it. I'm your fuckin' brother!”

“You don't get to make demands, Dex,” Eric sneers. “You make a move toward us, and Faye is dead. Don't think I won't shoot her, because I will.”

“Was it you who hit her?” he asks, hands clenching to fists. “Did you lay a hand on her?”

“No,” Eric says, sounding wary, which he should be, considering the fury I can hear in Dex's tone. “I haven't laid a hand on her.”

“Whoever touched her is a dead man,” Dex announces through clenched teeth. “No one puts a hand on my fuckin' wife. And if you want to live, Eric, loosen the hold you have on her hair, or I will shove my foot down your fuckin' throat, you little bastard.”

“Empty threats, Dex,” Eric replies—but he does loosen his hold. He can pretend he isn't scared of Dex all he wants, but he is. And he should be.