Chapter Twenty-Nine
CLEAN UP
The last address turned out to be exactly what the list promised.
Three women.
Two teenage boys.
One frightened little girl who hadn’t spoken a word since the deputies carried her outside.
Knox and Grant reached the front door seconds after Whip and Axel, having cleared the previous address with nothing but an empty house and a handful of evidence.
One look inside this place was enough.
“Jesus,” Knox muttered.
Axel barely heard him.
“You fuck!” he growled, launching across the room and grabbing the perp by the back of his neck, slamming him face down into the carpet.
He ground the fucker’s face into the filthy, matted material.
He wanted to keep going.
Whip stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.
“I’ve got him.”
Axel’s chest rose and fell. Every muscle in his arms still wanted to keep driving the man’s face into the carpet.
Instead, he shoved himself backward.
Whip rolled and cuffed the perp, then came to stand beside him.
Neither of them spoke for a moment.
“You okay?”
Axel let out a slow breath. “Ask me tomorrow.”
Whip nodded once. “Fair.”
Knox stepped past them to help secure the room while Grant covered the hallway, making sure nobody else was coming out of the bedrooms.
Somewhere behind Axel, a medic was talking softly to the victims.
“Sweetheart, can you look at me?”
Axel turned before he meant to.
One of the teenage boys stood wrapped in a blanket, staring at the floor like he wasn’t sure he was allowed to move anymore.
The little girl hadn’t let go of the female deputy’s hand.
She still hadn’t spoken.
Axel looked away.
They all deserved the death penalty. Where was Fierce when you needed him?
But then again, Fierce had saved them a lot of trouble by ending Charleston.
It’s just that…
Some jobs stayed with you longer than others.
The house filled fast.
Deputies.
Crime scene.
Detectives.
Paramedics moved carefully through the narrow hallway carrying blankets and trauma bags while evidence technicians started photographing every room before anything could be touched. Radios crackled constantly, voices calling for additional units, victim advocates, and transport.
The little girl disappeared beneath a blanket almost too big for her.
One of the women broke down as she reached the front porch.
Another simply stood there, staring at the sunrise like she’d forgotten what outside looked like.
Grant spoke quietly with one of the detectives before handing over the prisoner.
Knox drifted toward the kitchen, checking rooms one last time before returning with a slow shake of his head.
“Clear.”
No one celebrated.
No one should have needed a list to find this place.
The last set of cuffs clicked shut.
It was over.
Knox and Grant joined them outside the house.
“Think I’m gonna sleep for a week.” Knox yawned.
Grant snorted. “You’ll make it six hours.”
Knox looked offended. “How would you know?”
Grant smirked and held up both hands.
A snort escaped before he could stop it.
Thank fuck this thing was over.
By sunrise, every warrant tied to Fierce’s list had been served.
Victims were recovering in hospitals across three states while detectives, federal agents, and crime scene technicians began the long process of sorting through years of evidence.
Oscar Charleston’s empire hadn’t fallen all at once, but someone had kicked the first stone loose.
Axel doubted anyone would ever know how many lives Fierce’s list had saved.
By the time he and Whip finally climbed back into the SUV, they’d been awake for nearly twenty-four hours.
The stop at Molly’s for breakfast was brief.
The waitress eyed the four of them before topping off four mugs with fresh coffee.
“You boys hungry?”
“Starving,” Knox answered.
Axel nodded, nudging Whip over in the booth before sliding close.
“Same.”
By the time Axel finished ordering two of the breakfast specials, the waitress just smiled and shook her head.
Hot coffee and enough food to feed a family did little to cut through nearly twenty-four hours without sleep.
Damn. He wanted to be home in bed. With Whip. He shoved another bite of eggs into his mouth.
Whip shifted until one leg rested against his beneath the table.
Nobody said much as they ate.
There really wasn’t much to say.
Rain still fell as they headed south, the wipers keeping steady time across the windshield.
Lakeview welcomed them just before noon.
The U.S. Marshals office was wide awake and busy. Patrol cars filled the lot. Deputies came and went carrying evidence boxes, coffee, and paperwork.
They all filed into Boone’s office. Their boss looked as tired as Axel felt.
“Go home,” Boone said before any of them could say much.
“We’ve got reports—” Whip said.
“I know.”
“Interviews.” Axel frowned.
“Tomorrow.” Boone folded his arms. “The paperwork will still be here tomorrow.”
Silence.
“All four of you look like hell.”
Axel looked at Whip. He thought Whip looked sexy as fuck.
“You do look tired,” he told Whip.
Whip snorted. “You look worse than tired.”
“Observant,” Axel smirked.
Boone pointed toward the door.
“Get out of my office.”
All of them laughed, but none of them argued.
Twenty minutes later, the highway stretched out in front of them once again.
This time…
They were headed home.
They rolled into bed fresh from the shower, and he didn’t let up on Whip until they were both sated, out of breath, and panting.
“I’m going to need another shower,” Whip said, breathless.
Axel rubbed a hand down his chest and abs.
His lungs finally felt full again.
No radio.
No phone ringing.
No one trying to kill them.
Just Whip.
“I’m down.”
“Alone or I won’t be able to walk.”
Axel chuckled around a yawn.
“Walking is overrated.”
“For some people. I’ll have you know—”
Axel rolled and kissed Whip before he could go on. The smell of soap still clung to Whip’s skin.
He lifted his head. “Know?” he asked huskily.
“Know?” Whip echoed.
“You were going to tell me something,” he smirked.
Whip wrapped his arms up and around his neck, gazing up at him.
“Was I?”
“Mhmm.”
“Talking is overrated,” Whip teased.
Axel dipped his head, and that was the end of further talking.
Whatever tomorrow brought, it could wait.