Chapter 4
CHAPTER FOUR
Sullivan
Zayn's face looked like I had punched him in the nuts. His jaw clenched with unspoken words, and he looked down.
Fuck, why did I have to be such an asshole? Everyone dealt with traumatic situations differently, and I was no poster child for dealing with life. It was none of my business if he wanted to act like a fool to take the edge off.
I moved past him to the basement door and examined the lock. "This door has a deadbolt and a security code on it. Did you really think you could bust through a metal door?"
"I don't see you doing anything to help." He got up and rubbed his tailbone.
"Because I don't care." I went to the large sliding glass door that was practically the entire wall and looked into the backyard. "The coalition will get her out of this mess. Let them figure out she's been taken."
Marcos had a fucking helipad at the back of his property. There was a big building that looked like another house as well, with a large door that slid open. What a person needed with a helicopter was beyond my comprehension.
"You're a heartless fucker. You would let an innocent woman be taken by a bunch of humans who want nothing other than to have sex with her because she isn't human?"
I turned around, and he was standing in the same place he'd fallen, his fists balled at his sides, his eyes flashing back and forth between human and wolf. "Is she innocent, though? She fucked you and Kingston knowing she was going to turn around and have you both put in prison."
He growled and showed his teeth. "You're a poor excuse for a wolf."
I stalked toward him so fast he didn't have time to move and pushed him against the kitchen island. "You don't know a damn thing about me."
"You're right, I don't. But what I do know, I don't like." He shoved me, but I didn't budge. I had a few inches and at least thirty pounds of muscle on him. "Get the fuck away from me."
He was starting to cower the slightest bit, and I grinned like the Cheshire Cat. "Little wolf is scared."
His eyes dilated and darted to my lips. What the hell? "There's nothing little about my-"
"If you two are done with your pissing match, they just pulled up and are armed." Kingston stood at the end of the hall watching our exchange. "And for what it's worth, I've seen Zayn's dick, and he's right. Nothing small about it."
Moving away from him, I tried not to look down at his crotch and failed. It was only a glance, and it wasn't like I could see anything, but now all I could picture was his dick.
Zayn smirked before going to the refrigerator and grabbing a gallon of milk. He uncapped it and headed back down the hallway to the front of the house.
There were so many hallways everywhere, with most rooms closed off to each other versus open concept. I hated it, but Marcos probably had hired help and the layout provided privacy.
Hiding off both sides of the entryway, we waited for them to come through the door. Kingston and I were on one side, Zayn and his milk on the other. Did he think it would make him stronger?
The front door flew open, crashing against the window next to it. The sound of glass breaking echoed in the entryway. "Kingston! Come out here and no one has to get hurt!"
Kingston put his finger against his lips to tell us to be quiet. "Where's Wren?"
One of them laughed. "Wouldn't you like to know? We'll send you one of her arms once Marcos chops it off. An arm for an arm and all that. It's a shame too. Now she'll only have one arm to hold herself up while we fuck her."
Zayn was practically vibrating from rage, the milk container trembling in his grip. As soon as the men’s feet moved inside, he couldn't contain himself any longer.
He sprung out and chucked the gallon of milk at them, sending the white liquid splattering all over them and the floor.
It surprised them enough for us to attack without worrying about being shot.
The floor was slippery and the guy I went after fell to his knees, the gun he was holding flying from his hands.
I yanked him up and pinned him against the wall, looking over my shoulder to see Zayn pounding the other guy's head into the marble floor.
"Zayn! Stop!" Kingston's voice was firm, and Zayn relented, his chest heaving. "We aren't going to kill them. At least not yet."
The guy under Zayn groaned, blood trickling from his nose. These two weren't very smart coming into the house like they had.
"Where's Wren? Is she in the basement? If there is even so much as a hair out of place on her head, I will rip your scalp off and shove it down your throat!" Zayn stood and pulled the guy up by his hair before shoving him against the wall. "Answer me!"
"She's not here." The guy I had a hold of tried to twist out of my grip and I kicked him in the back of the knee, sending him to the ground.
"Let's go. We want in the basement." Kingston was holding both guns now and pointed them at both of the men. "One wrong move and you'll be dog food tonight."
After yanking my guy to his feet, we moved down the hall, and I tried not to let myself think about how bad all of this was.
Had I known shit like this was happening in Crescent Valley, I wouldn't have come in the first place.
Fighting in Kingston's little fight club was good money, but it wasn't worth committing several felonies over.
I couldn't help with my family's expenses if I was locked up in prison, human or shifter.
Zayn shoved his guy against the metal door as soon as we got to the kitchen. "Open the fucking door."
"We don't have the code." The guy cried out as Zayn dug his claws into his wrists. "I swear!"
"I find that hard to believe." Kingston put a gun to the guy's head. "You have until the count of three to open the door. One... two..."
The guy I was holding made a strangled noise in his throat. The smell of piss was already pungent in the air. These fuckers were out of their element, despite rolling up like they were going to stop us. "I know it."
"Now we're getting somewhere. Open it." Kingston backed up, keeping the guns pointed.
I watched carefully as the guy entered the code, and then the door clicked open. "You two are going down first." I shoved him onto the landing inside the door and Zayn did the same before he turned on the lights.
Kingston went behind them, the gun not faltering as we all traversed down the stairs into a finished basement. It looked how I expected a sex club to look, with dark-colored walls, carpet, and furniture. There was a circular platform in the middle and several doors leading off the main room.
"Sullivan, check the rooms." Kingston grabbed one of the men and pushed him onto the circular platform. "Stanley and I are going to have a little talk."
There was no point in arguing, so I did as he asked. He almost seemed detached from the entire situation, like a switch had been flipped. It became even more evident when he grabbed chains to tether the guy to the platform.
Checking each room, it was clear there hadn't been anyone in them for a few days. They mostly smelled like humans, but one had the faint smell of a female wolf. It didn't smell like anything other than fear, but the thought of a female being in such a place made me sick to my stomach.
"One of you needs to come smell this. I'm not entirely sure my brain isn't making up the scent of a female wolf." I left the door open and checked the last two doors before taking over watch for Zayn.
Kingston had Stanley chained and was at the wall that had everything from dildos to whips hanging on it. "I say we start light and then if we don't get the answers we want, we can explore how big a dildo will fit up his ass with no lube."
Zayn's growl came from the hall, and I turned in enough time to jump out of the way. He tackled the second guy to the ground, his claws coming out as he put his hands around his throat. "Where's my sister?"
"What? Your sister?" I looked back down the hall and then at Kingston, who looked ready to lose it. "Are you sure?"
"Yes, I'm fucking sure!" Zayn's angry voice echoed off the walls, and the guy grabbed onto his forearms, trying to yank his hands off.
Kingston checked the clip and released the safety on the gun. "Start fucking talking or I'll start with shooting off your fingers one by one. It's a shame the clip isn't full. I'll leave the middle fingers, though, so you're reminded of how you fucked up."
"I don't know what you're talking about." Stanley thrashed against the chains holding him down as Zayn continued choking his friend. "Stop! He's dying!"
"Good." Zayn's claws were drawing blood. "Where the fuck is she?"
No one answered, and Kingston growled. "Fine."
It was hard to tell whether the gun or the scream came first, but Kingston was true to his word. I stepped back, partly in shock and partly in fascination that he'd actually shot one of Stanley's fingers.
The guy under Zayn went limp and Zayn stood, wiping his bloody hands on the couch. The guy's chest was still moving, but he wouldn't be awake anytime soon.
"Please, stop." Stanley was a blubbering mess, with snot running from his nose and blood pouring from where his pinky used to be. It might have still been holding on by a thread too. There was so much carnage from the bullet, it was hard to tell.
Kingston tapped the gun on Stanley's next finger. "Three, two-"
"They're at Chad's house. Please don't kill me." He choked on his tears and turned his head to cough. "That's where they're keeping Wren and the other girl."
"Let me have a gun." Zayn held out his hand to Kingston. "I'm going to shoot both their dicks off for touching my sister."
"I didn't touch her! None of us did!" Stanley started screaming as Zayn grabbed the other gun out of Kingston's waistband. "Please! I swear!"
"You swear? You've been doing a lot of that." Zayn squatted down and pressed the gun into the guy's crotch. "Why the fuck was she here?"
Before Zayn shot off his dick, I grabbed the gun and pointed it at Stanley's head. "Where the fuck is Chad's house?"
He screamed, and Kingston shoved me out of the way, grabbing the man by the throat. "You're coming with us."
There was a point during the two-hour drive into the mountains where I wondered if Stanley really knew where the fuck we were going.
I wanted to believe that he wouldn't be stupid and try to get one over on us given he was already missing one finger.
We should have brought the second guy too instead of chaining him up.
The sun was starting to come up, and I was growing more and more worried about what exactly they were doing with Wren.
If they had done anything to her, Zayn and Kingston weren't the only ones that were going to be out for blood.
As much as I didn't trust her, I didn't want to see anything bad happen to her.
Zayn had been surprisingly quiet the entire drive.
He'd gotten into the front passenger seat and not looked back or said a word.
I could tell by the slight tremble of his body that he was about ready to burst, and I couldn't blame him.
I didn't have a sister, but what I knew from having a brother was that I would do anything to protect him.
After what seemed like forever, we came to a turnoff and pulled down a short drive to a large iron gate. Stanley gave us the code and it opened without issue. Kingston pulled through and drove down a winding road to a sprawling mansion amongst the trees.
I hadn't realized how rich these guys were until seeing Marcos's and now Chad's house. They were the rich of the rich, and apparently, that meant they thought they could get away with heinous crimes and not have to pay the consequences.
Once we found Wren, if Kingston and Zayn didn't kill them, I would.
We pulled up in front of the house, and Kingston turned off the engine. "If this is a trap, you're dead." He hopped out of the SUV and slammed the door.
The back door was thrown open and Kingston grabbed Stanley by the arm and yanked him out, making him nearly fall on his face. The kitchen towel we'd wrapped around his hand came off, and he gasped at seeing his missing pinky, like he hadn't remembered it had been blown off.
I picked up the blood-soaked towel, careful not to touch his blood, and handed it to him. He whimpered and hissed as he rewrapped it.
We walked to the front door and Kingston kicked it in. I was immediately hit with Wren's scent, along with Zayn's sister’s. Stanley had brought us to the right place. I was grateful because I didn't want to see any more of his fingers get shot off.
Zayn pushed past us and ran down a hall to a door and disappeared. Less than a minute later, he returned and went toward the back of the house, sniffing as he went.
"Zayn, what is it?" I kept a gun pressed into Stanley's upper back and shoved him forward, back toward the entry of the house.
"They aren't here!" Zayn came back, his claws on full display and eyes flashing feral. "Where are they?"
Stanley squealed like a pig as Zayn stabbed him in the stomach. "I… I don't know!"
"Why is she here? What did you do to her?" Zayn twisted his hand and Stanley screamed. "Tell me!"
"Mar… Marcos sold her… her to Ch… Chad." The man coughed and tried pulling out the five claws buried deep in his gut. "P… P… Please."
"Zayn." Kingston put his hand on his shoulder. "Don't-"
With his other hand, Zayn stabbed his claws right through Stanley's chest. Stanley gasped and then tried to speak, but the only sound that left his mouth was the sound of blood coming up his throat and spilling out..
I backed up, letting him fall to the ground. Zayn's claws dripped blood and his chest heaved. He'd gone off the deep end, and judging by the look in his eyes and his posture, one wrong move would send him even deeper.
The sound of engines revving came from down the hall, and our heads snapped in that direction. Kingston bolted toward the door before Zayn had the chance to go in front of him. I ran after them, unsure what we should do about the dead man bleeding out in the entry.
We only missed the two of them by a few seconds, the smell of exhaust and human blood in the air. One of them was bleeding, but not enough to stop him from taking off on an ATV.
Zayn ran after them, already yanking off his clothes to shift. Kingston and I exchanged glances and did the same. There wasn't a chance in hell any of us were letting them get away.