Chapter 45—Psy
“Enter,” I bark at the single knock on my door. The boys learned long ago that I don’t like when people walk in on me. I’ll let you enter when I want. Not a second sooner.
“We found her. We found Ava.” My second-in-command doesn’t pussyfoot around the intel. Another thing I don’t like.
“Where?”
“Colombia.”
I grab the gun on the desk and put it in the back of my jeans. “Let’s go get her.” I’m not going to waste any more time than we already have finding her.
“She’s dead.” He gives no emotion, no reaction. Just the facts.
I still for a moment as I take in his words and try to process everything that’s happened and will happen from this in thirty seconds. Then I narrow my eyes and ask one question.
“Who?”
Who the fuck would dare mess with the Devils Damned property?
We aren’t nice. We’re fucked-up psychotic assholes, some more so than others.
We deal in shit others don’t touch because we’re both stupid and smart at the same time.
We know what we need to do to get the job done and not get caught by fucking police pigs.
We’ve got a reputation for ourselves: You don’t fuck with me and mine.
And someone did.
“The Hounds.”
This means war.