Branded (The Collection #4)

Chapter 1

JOAQUIN

"You fucking tricked me."

Four words that both elated and terrified me.

Parker Adair was one of the pillars of the old Castillo Cartel, newly anointed as Bastard Brother Industries.

He was also a crazy fucking bastard, and I had tricked him.

Now it was time to find out if he'd keep his end of the bargain and we all walked out of here or if I'd just started another war we didn't need.

"You didn't put any parameters around the card deck. I could have had a pinochle deck for all you knew." I picked the cards up, sliding them back into the deck, my nerves on fire as he chewed his jaw and narrowed his gaze on me.

Fury radiated off Parker as Lake unlocked his holster and drew his gun. As the one responsible for us, carrying the weight of our success, health, and happiness on his shoulders, he stepped forward, menace etched in every line of his body.

"Are we going to have any problems?" Lake growled.

Andre stepped forward and—

The speakers made a series of beeps as the electricity shut off. The exit sign above the door lit up, bathing the office in a red glow.

For a second, no one moved. Then Lake cursed as the brothers exchanged a look.

Had they planned this? The nervous jitters were swiftly replaced with raging suspicion. If there was one thing Atlas had taught me, it was that there were no coincidences. Them showing up on our Showcase night was bad enough, but the electricity going out too?

Atlas was the only one not frozen. “We need to get Beasty,” he tossed over his shoulder as he sped toward the door. Pulling out his keycard, he raised it to the sensor.

Lake rushed to his desk and rummaged through the top drawer with his phone flashlight. “That’s not going to work while the electricity's out. I need to get the master key. Where the hell are the backup generators?” he mumbled.

Andre and Parker continued to stand there as they both watched Lake hunt for the key.

Fuck this. I was with Atlas, we needed to find Beasty.

I skirted around Parker, ready for him to yank my arm, but he didn't. Once I was behind Atlas, I released a trembling sigh of relief, but I didn't trust it. Not at all.

Nothing was more important than getting to Beasty.

"Found it!" Lake shouted.

A loud explosion rocked the building, and the floor shook beneath our feet.

“Move!” Lake shoved me out of the way, jamming the key into the lock and opening the door. Once it was open, he raced through, and Atlas and I battled shoulder to shoulder to stay on his ass.

We were running.

People were screaming.

Shadowy silhouettes raced back and forth under the emergency lights. I searched every figure, knowing the shape of Beasty's body as if it were my own or Atlas'.

Lake headed straight for the dressing room, tossing both men and women out of his path as he went. Inside the room, girls huddled in the corner, but there was no Beasty.

There was no fucking Beasty!

“Where the hell is she?” Atlas shouted, gripping the sides of his head as he stopped short. Pulling out his phone, he tapped at the screen. Without internet—and deep inside the club—his phone would be useless.

He tried anyway.

"I need the cameras. If I can see the cameras, I can find her quicker.”

My own frantic restlessness surged through me, I spun left, then right. This wasn’t good. This couldn’t be happening. Not after everything.

This life, where we handled our shit and took care of Beasty, where nothing could touch her or us again, was supposed to be our only future.

It was not supposed to be another hunt for the woman we loved. I sucked in a sharp breath.

Holy fuck.

I. Loved. Her.

I mean, I’ve always loved Beasty, but I was in love with her. And we couldn’t fucking find her because there were still too many assholes trying to take us down.

We just needed more time!

"I'll check the bathroom." I turned, unable to do nothing a second longer. Bumping into Parker, I shoved him out of the way and hit the closest bathroom the dancers used.

Several of our men sprawled out on the floor like puppets cut from their strings. It was too dark to tell if they were alive, and fuck, I didn't care. I just needed to find Beasty. Every second we didn't, tightened the thorny band constricting my lungs.

The bathroom door banged against the wall, the sound echoing back. But it felt so distant, I barely registered it or the potent scented soap as I took in the form on the ground.

"No," I rasped, racing forward. I couldn't hack the image in front of me.

I rolled her over, and a ragged sigh escaped me. Sarah Harris.

This wasn't Beasty.

I'd have noticed that if I'd taken half a second to process. Still, my heart pounded, realizing what this was. Sarah wouldn’t have left Beasty’s side for any fucking thing.

"Sarah?" I shook her shoulder, but she only moaned. She was out cold.

Damn it!

The lights flickered, then blinked on with the loud groan of the generators.

A sound came from outside the bathroom, and when I swung the door open, Atlas was there, clicking through his phone. His eyes flicked furiously across the bright screen as he braced himself on the door jamb.

"Is it working?" I grabbed his waist, pressing against his side so I could see the footage too. His warmth soothed me, taking away the worst of the crazed edge I was tipping over.

"It's starting to," he murmured, completely focused on the screen.

Lake rounded the corner with Parker and Andre strolling casually behind him.

Fuck, there was a woman down, and she needed help.

"Lake!" I called. "Get security here! Sarah’s hurt!"

His eyes widened fractionally before he glowered and pulled out his phone, tapping away while never stopping his forward movement.

I shoved the side of my face just under Atlas' jaw as he flipped through screens. I needed his comfort as much as I needed to know the second he found something.

The quality of the security footage wasn't as sharp as it normally was, and there was still excessive amounts of chaos erupting through most angles, especially the public spaces.

His thumb hesitated over the next view, and my heart cracked.

The parking garage.

Without a word or warning, we bolted toward the end of the hallway. Atlas drew out in front with his damned long legs, but I was right on his ass. I tried like hell to block out what had been on the screen, but my breathing was already short and I was two steps away from a panic attack.

Beasty, or a woman who was wearing the exact same outfit as Beasty, was sprawled on the ground. It didn’t stop me from hoping against hope she had a damned doppelganger.

Every single moment of our childhood flashed before my eyes. All the missed opportunities I had to speak with her, take care of her, hell, even so little as comfort her. I wasted every single fucking one.

We reached the stairwell down to the parking garage as the more recent moments assaulted me.

I'd rebuffed her so much. Blamed her for wanting her own life, for having her own line in the sand. I'd lost so much fucking time. Black dots floated on the edges of my vision as Atlas threw open the door to the garage.

Even when she was growing closer to the guys, I'd still held her at arm's length. Like a fucked up idiot.

Breath ceased to exist as we headed straight toward Beasty. A man in profile stood behind her, holding her up by her hair like a goddamn rag doll, with a knife to her throat.

No!

I found a burst of speed, but Atlas was faster. Just as a drop of blood started to roll down Beasty's neck, Atlas slammed a punch into the man's temple, then clotheslined him to the ground.

I jumped forward, catching Beasty with shaking arms.

"Beasty," I cried, my eyes wet as her face held no expression, her body completely limp. Slamming down on my knees, I clutched her to my chest, lightly slapping her cheek. "Beasty? Beasty..."

Never again. She was fine. She had to be. There was no other option.

She would not die in a stinking, oil stained garage.

When we got her home, I'd make sure she never doubted how much she meant to me.