Taking Over the Dark (High Stakes Syndicate #2)

Chapter 13

THIRTEEN

MARCELLO

“Is Kev okay with him there on his own?” Zamir asks, while pulling me out of my thoughts that are racing a hundred miles a minute.

All I give him is a grunt in response. Those two are the last of my worries. Jack said the only thing he knew about was Igor flying his plane in and out, but he did mention Agron. He had no clue about the women and children they were trafficking on said plane.

Supposedly .

I have all the blackmail on Jack I need, so I’m sure he’ll be staying in line. I know somebody must know something, and I need the information now.

? * I have a terrible feeling that Agron, being the power-hungry bastard he is, is trying to get rid of his brother and take over. I think that’s why he is repeatedly trying to get Zamir to return to Chicago. If Agron were to kill his own brother, his nephew would have to be taken out, too…

We’re walking back out of the airport and passing the clean-up crew on the way to the SUV. It’s been too long since I’ve seen Ellie and Nash, and I’m running out of options and favors to call in.

I never want them out of my sight again, but I know that’s unrealistic.

Zamir’s looking at his phone and huffs out, “What the fuck does he want? I haven’t heard a peep from him since he got off the phone with me while I was still at the stadium.” It’s been sixty-three hours since they were taken from us. He hits the green button to accept the call. “Alex. To what pleasure do I ow?—”

Zamir doesn’t even get the sentence out fully before his face morphs into a concerned look, and he pulls the phone away to put it on speaker.

Alex’s voice floats through the phone’s speaker, “Arben and I lost our dads—tracking wise—for a couple of minutes. But then their dots popped back up and now are traveling North. I remembered hearing Vito talking about an underground bunker he had for hiding things that were important to him.”

I’m growling into the speaker, “Send us the address now.” I have a terrible feeling I know exactly where they took them. But my real question is, how long has Alex had the tracking on their dads and not communicated with us?!

Zamir threatens, “If this is a setup, Kush?rir , I’ll be in Chicago later tonight to gut you myself.” Then he hangs up.

That would sure as hell save a step for his dad to complete.

If I had any worry about Zamir’s loyalty left in me, that just dissipated.

Vin asks, while speeding down the interstate, “Why didn’t your slimy cousin and his hacker know where Vito and your dad went when they dropped them wherever they are?”

Zamir huffs, “My dad’s big but nowhere near the size of the guys that took Nash and Ellie. I think they hired them because there’s no way in hell those two old fuckers were getting the job done. Plus, I’m sure they had the guys take them to this location in case they were being followed or tracked.” Zamir’s cousin is tracking them.

Clearly, Alex thinks that it could be their dads that took them as well, or again, this could all be a setup we’re walking into, like every dumbass in a scary movie.

I wonder out loud, “The only thing I don’t like is how convenient Alex’s call was. We were getting too close to whatever else they have going on…” We all sit in silence as we process that and what it could mean.

Vin’s driving like a bat out of hell, but he’s shaving precious minutes off, making this forty-five minute trip into more like thirty. Since Zamir answered his phone when we were leaving the airport, my heart has been in my ass, scared of how we’re going to find Ellie and Nash. The questions keep assaulting me.

Are we walking into an army of Albanian men?

Have the Albanians beaten and abused their bodies so badly that they’re already dead?

What if one of them is alive and the other isn’t?

And what if they don’t want to put themselves in danger being around me anymore?

Pulling myself out of the spiral, I do the tried and true thing I know works to calm my brain… plan and take control. I send a quick text to Doc, letting him know what we’re about to walk into and that he and Haisley will be needed at the warehouse, prepped and ready for the worst.

I question, “Z, what do we know about this place?”

The coordinates that came through from Alex are in the middle of the Valley of Fire, which happens to be a national park. A shiver racks my body. Why they would be in the park has even more worry coursing through me.

According to Alex’s text updates, the dads are supposedly already there and have been for over an hour. As Alex can hear us, Zamir starts to read the most recent text out loud, “Your dad is on the move again. Looks to be heading back toward Vegas. My dad is still showing at the coordinates.” He’s thinking hard, in silence, before he adds, “I don’t like how this is looking. My dad is looking guiltier and guiltier by the minute.”

We follow the trail of blood-covered sand to what seems to be a huge rock with holes in the front of it—big enough for us to walk into. The coordinates are this rock formation. I’m leading, Zamir’s in the middle, and Vin’s in the back as we scan the area, guns drawn, ready for anything and everything.

I clear the outside of the formation, and we don’t hear anything out of the ordinary. The bone-reaching chill from the late hours of the night in the middle of the desert isn’t ideal for any of us either. Especially if this is what Nash and Ellie have been dealing with since being held captive.

Alex said he had heard Agron and Vito talking about the Albanians taking captives here. How far out from the city it is makes it ideal, and the desert environment does all the nasty work for them.

I might be a sick fuck, but at least I don’t make my victims suffer like this. And they all deserve it. Nash and Ellie did absolutely nothing besides be associated with Zamir and me.

Still following the blood-soaked sand, I enter the first hole in the rock formation and immediately get hit with a metallic scent. After scanning the little cave, I look down and see a middle-aged man lying on the ground. All of his blood out of his body from what seems to be multiple knife wounds and cuts covering his body.

Whoever killed this man wanted him to suffer. Bleeding out slowly is at the bottom of the list of how I would want to be taken out of this world. Zamir rounds the corner and spots the body, then gasps, “Fuck!”

Vin rounds the corner last, asking, “What?” He takes in what’s in front of him, too, and asks another question, “Oh shit… who’s that?” He sees the distress on Zamir’s face, and it’s hitting me now.

“That’s Vito… Alex’s dad. My uncle.”

They’re playing us in my favorite game… the mental game.

And I’m about to go all in.

* ? Bad Things - I Prevail