Chapter 4
Chapter 4
Drake
“ I don’t like this,” Owen grumbles as he adjusts the straps of his backpack.
It’s a dark and humid evening. Thunder rolls in the distance while lightning flickers across the sky. If the rain holds off for a few more hours, that would be ideal. It can wash away the evidence of our presence once we’re done here.
“You don’t like anything that doesn’t involve being behind a computer screen,” Wyatt teases as he shoves his sheathed blade into his boot. It’s one of two he carries, just like the rest of us.
Unlike the others, I shoulder my rifle. I’ve tried teaching them how to use a gun over the years, but none of them have really taken to it well enough for me to feel confident handing them one tonight. Not that they mind. They all seem to prefer the close proximity that comes with wielding a knife. I don’t blame them. I like being up close and personal while watching the life drain from the eyes of someone who deserves it.
“That’s not true,” Owen objects.
“Eh, it’s close enough to the truth,” Kingston says, his long fingers weaving through the air as he signs.
Owen glares. “No, it’s not!”
At Kingston’s nod, Owen pushes his shoulder. King pushes him back. Wyatt jumps into the fray and a three-way pushing and shoving match ensues. Rolling my eyes, I turn to look for the woman in charge.
I find her standing a few feet away. Her gaze is locked onto the dirt road ahead of us. There’s a stillness in her frame that I know doesn’t mirror the chaotic storm brewing beneath her skin. I can feel it. Her internal war, fueled by justice and a fractured mind is like static as it rolls over my skin. Down my arms, the hairs begin to rise. My heat races, picking up on the frantic energy that has nothing to do with the storm overhead.
Stomping over, I come up beside my girl and reach to cup the back of her neck.
Daisy doesn’t stir. She stares straight ahead. I follow her gaze down the road we’re about to trek down. It’s poorly lit with old streetlamps set too far apart, creating dark walls of blackness between them. There are large ditches filled with puddles, along with shards of broken glass from bottles, plus trash and abandoned tires. Finding it once we got in the area had been difficult, stealing time we don’t have.
“You good?” I ask her, my voice gruff.
Daisy’s head dips once in confirmation. My brows furrow and my grip around her neck tightens.
“Use your words, Daze.” I need to know she’s in the headspace for this.
Our hits are usually smaller. A rapist, a murderer, a pedophile here and there. Single targets with no one funding them. But tonight? There’s a container filled with women someone bought and they’ll be coming for them. There’s no doubt in any of our minds we’re going to run into trouble saving these women. There will be guards watching over this shipment, and they'll probably be armed. We haven’t done something this big since, well, Briar Glen. The difference between then and now, though, is Daisy not only had years to plan her revenge, but she managed to put together a planned B as well.
We’re coming at this with only a few hours of planning and no intel on who’s behind the trafficking. There’s a good chance we’ll be leaving tonight empty-handed and with a few bullet holes. That’s if we don’t end up dead.
“I’m fine, Dre.”
A little tension eases out of me. If Daisy’s talking, I can trust she won’t go absolutely feral. She’ll listen to orders without too much objection.
“Good, then we need to get going,” I warn her. “We don’t have much time. The pickup is in an hour.”
Half of that time will be us trying to get to the port.
“Then what are we waiting for?” She looks up at me, her mouth pressed into a tight line.
Our eyes meet. In the darkness, her brown eyes are a deep bottomless pool of wrath and death. I shiver, fighting down a wave of desire at the sight. It’s easy enough. My fear for her safety outweighs my need to see my girl rip people apart.
I nudge my head to the guys bickering behind us. “Your band of misfits are… misfitting.”
This makes the corner of her mouth twitch. Daisy doesn’t smile, though. Instead, she turns around to face the others.
“ Enough !” she snaps.
I turn to Kingston, Wyatt, and Owen, and watch as they break apart at once. They glower at one another, but when Daisy takes a step toward them, their attention refocuses on her. This woman will always take precedence over anything else in our lives. Especially over stupid squabbles.
She’s the goddess of Death and we’re the demons she summoned, ready to do her bidding.
“Everyone ready to save these women?” she asks.
The three of them nod in unison.
“Good. Drake’s going to go over the plan one more time. Listen closely.” She turns to me expectantly. “Make it quick, Dre. There are people counting on us tonight.”
Looking away from her face, I meet the others’ gazes. Their expressions range from grim to worried. Good, this needs to be taken seriously. Because one mistake could implode the entire plan and turn our world upside down.
“The five of us are sticking together until we hit a fork down that road.” I jerk my thumb behind me. “Owen and I are going to head right. The rest of you will continue on the original path. You’ll get to the entrance of the docks and either have to climb the fence or search for an opening. From there, fan out and wait for my signal before killing anyone. Got it?”
Wyatt’s hand comes up swiftly in a salute as he straightens. “Sir, yes sir!”
I roll my eyes as Owen snickers and Kingston simply flips me off.
“You guys are such assholes,” I growl.
“Yet, you love us all the same,” Wyatt says.
Daisy’s hand comes to rest on my arm as she stares around at us. “Hoods up, gloves on, and masks ready, ok? We’re the demons that own the night, remember that. The only survivors tonight will be the women in the containers. If there are any runners, go after them.”
The muscles in my arms tense. Running won’t save them. I’ll make sure of that.
Owen’s the only one not wearing his gloves, but he pulls them out of his pocket to correct that, as the rest of us reach up and pull the masks down to cover our face. Created from wanted posters of missing women from years ago, the masks are a reminder of where we came from and why we kill. The small steel horns that erupt from the forehead of the mono-human face glint in the yellow light. When we’re ready, I glance around at the menacing force we make and smile.
We’re the justice that can’t be corrupted and the vengeance you can’t escape.
“If you guys are ready,” Daisy announces through her own mask. “We should go.”
The fork in the road comes sooner than expected.
That’s both good and bad. Good because that means the entrance to the docks is closer than the maps we pieced together in the RV suggested. This will give us more time than we originally allotted to get to the women and break them out. Bad because I have to leave my girl when all I want to do is keep her close.
I meant for the split up to be swift and quiet. Instead, my fingers grip Daisy’s arm in a biting hold as she tries to hurry after the others, and I yank her to face me. I can hear her soft gasp of surprise beneath her mask as she looks up at me. We’re just out of reach of the streetlamps, so when I jerk up my mask then peel hers up off her face, I can’t read her expression. It doesn’t matter. I know exactly where her lips are.
Mine come crashing down on hers in a hungry, desperate kiss.
Daisy doesn’t hesitate to return it. Her gloved hands come up to hold my face as she pours her love, as sick and twisted as it is, into the moment. A hard shiver rushes through me as dread whispers in the back of my head.
This could be the last time I see her, to hold her in my arms. The enormity of that thought has me choking on fear.
My heart hammers against my chest, wishing to reach out to the girl of my dreams. I can’t lose her. Death wouldn’t be a strong enough force to keep me from Daisy, but I’m man enough to admit that it would take time for our souls to find each other again. The thought of going any stretch of time without her scares me more than facing any god or devil on the other side.
It’s almost painful pulling my lips away from hers. I don’t go far. Pressing my forehead to Daisy’s, I whisper breathlessly, “Don’t be rash, ok? I need you more than anything else in this world. “Without you, there’s no reason for any of this.”
I wish I could claim I was some sort of hero. The reality is, I wouldn’t be risking my life for anyone under any circumstances if Daisy wasn’t the one leading the charge.
There’s a pause before she replies, “We’ll see each other soon, Dre. I promise.”
There’s no missing her hesitation or how useless that promise is. Living isn’t a certainty, not with what we do. But in moments like this, we can at least pretend we have control of fate.
“Come back and I’ll do that thing you like,” I add, sweetening the deal.
Daisy chuckles. “I nearly waterboarded you then, Dre. I don’t think?—”
“If I can make your pussy wet enough to drown me, then I know I’m doing something right.”
Daisy laughs softly before planting a kiss at the corner of my mouth before turning and taking off after Wyatt and Kingston.
Not wanting to waste any more time, I race after Owen who hooked a right at the fork just like we discussed. I catch up to him easily. My long legs, thick with muscle, will always keep me the fastest in the group.
“She’s going to be ok,” Owen promises as I shoot by him.
I don’t reply. Words are just words. My heart won’t settle until Daisy is back in my arms. In any case, I’m pretty sure it says that more for himself than for me.
Together, the two of us run down the narrow lane. It’s not wide enough for a car, so I’m not sure why it’s here, but I’m glad Owen found it during his search. It winds through the woods that became wild once this place was abandoned. Through the vines and shrubbery, I can see a few spotlights within the shipyard. They’re brighter than the streetlamps we’d been using to guide our way on the main road toward the dock, but there are even fewer lights on than on the road. We follow this narrow trail for a bit. Eleven minutes, to be exact. I keep checking my watch, needing to track the time.
“There!” Owen whispers anxiously.
He points and I follow the direction of his finger. Up ahead is a large electrical box. I nod, though I don’t think Owen notices it. He slows down, understanding his task in this mission. As I shoot past him, he calls out softly, “Be careful, Dre! I’ll work quickly then I’ll be there to join in the fray.”
I know he will, I’m not worried. Owen will do his best to give the others an advantage they’ll need. Leaving my friend behind, I keep moving. My pace quickens now that I only have myself to worry about. The path draws closer to the shipyard until there’s only a tall chain-linked fence separating me from it. I round the perimeter until I see what I need.
A stack of old, rusted shipping containers is situated close to the fence. A few others are stacked close to it, but the tallest one is eight containers high.
Perfect.
With a soft grunt, I slow to a stop so I can weave my fingers into the chain-link and heave myself upward. The climb is slow, unsteady, and the fence groans beneath my weight. I have to be pretty far from the actual loading docks, away from where anyone can hear me, but I wince with each creak and groan as the fence sways all the same. Sound carries in a place like this.
When I get to the top of the fence, I pull out my bolt cutters and, with some difficulty, finagle them to cut the barbed wire at the top. After making enough room for myself to slip over without getting sliced, I shove them back into my backpack and cross over. Once on the other side, I push off the fence and launch myself at the stack of containers.
My fingers wrap around the metal poles attached to them and I grip them hard as I slide down a few feet. My descent halts a moment later. Trying to keep my heavy breaths muted, I grit my teeth and begin the ascent to the top of them. Every muscle in my body protests as I work my way up.
I heave a sigh of relief when I get to the top of the stack, but I don’t stop once up there. I crawl on hands and knees toward the front of them. When I get to the edge, I stare out at the rest of the shipyard. There are a few other stacks of old containers lying around. Judging by the condition they're in, they’ve been here for a while. None are as tall as this one, giving me a large advantage.
The one I’m looking for is a few hundred yards to my left. It stills on the edge of the dock and stands out amongst the rest. Not only because it’s clearly new, lacking any sign of age or being out in the elements for long periods of time, but because it’s surrounded by twenty or so men.
Fucking hell… twenty verses five? This feels like a shitshow waiting to happen.
There’s no time to steal a steadying breath. Carefully, I lower myself onto my stomach, then drop my backpack beside me. Bringing my rifting around, I set it up on a small tripod, then press my eye to the scope. I under-counted before. There are twenty-two, not twenty guys. I’d missed a few that were walking around. There are several guys slinking around the abandoned containers, searching for any signs of trouble. There’s an expensive-looking, black SUV sitting right beside the container. Two guys sit on top of the hood, chatting away as if nothing’s wrong. They’re young and, as I study them through the scope, unharmed. At least those two will be easy to take out.
Using the scope, I search for my friends. They should be on the property by now. We’re running out of time before the transportation crew gets here. If we’re still here by the time they arrive, we won’t make it out of the shipyard—that’s a guarantee.
There’s no sign of them. Unease creeps up my spine. It tries to spread, but I know better than to allow that to happen. They’re there, sneaking around the shipping containers. I just know it.
“Come on, Owen…” I mutter, knowing he’s working on the distraction.
I lick my dry lips and while I wait, I pick out my first hit.