49. They’ve Got Her, Arlo
They’ve Got Her, Arlo
Arlo
‘ Fuck ,’ Dad mutters beside me when he sees who’s guarding the cottage. The club’s men… his men, men he’s trusted with his life.
I know he was hoping I’d got it wrong, that there would be another explanation for them being here, and maybe there is, but right now I don’t fucking care. They took my girl, and I’ll make them pay for that.
‘Hang back until we know what we’re dealing with,’ dad says quietly, ‘you see any of them reachin’, you put a bullet in them.’
He starts to make his way through the trees, stopping only when he has a better view of Horse. Then he calls him.
The sound of Horse’s cell ringing out echoes loudly in all directions, and I watch as he fumbles in his cut for his phone before answering.
‘Yeah?’ Horse answers. ‘Prez?”
Dad doesn’t say anything for a moment, and Horse pulls the phone from his ear to stare at it in confusion before speaking again.
‘I can’t hear you, prez. I’m out at my mom’s place, and the signal is shit.’ Horse cuts the call and tucks his phone back away. I feel another flare of anger at his betrayal.
My dad, deciding he’s heard enough, walks out of the trees, and I see the moment Horse shits his pants, realizing that he’s fucked up in more ways than one.
‘Your mom moved?’ Dad asks, and Horse backs up.
‘Prez, I can explain…’
Dad raises his gun as Horse raises his hands, but he isn’t aiming at his VP. He’s aiming at one of the other club members guarding the property.
‘You have one chance to explain to me why you kidnapped Bree Campbell.’
‘What? We didn’t…’
‘You did,’ Dad says, shooting the guy he was aiming at in the head, the silencer on his weapon reducing the noise to barely anything in the quiet middle of nowhere.
Even from where I’m standing, I can see Horse’s eyes go wide when he realizes that Dad doesn’t give a fuck who he kills for betraying him and the club.
‘ Fuck , Prez, I swear. I swear I didn’t know. I shouldn’t have taken the job without your say so, but I just wanted the paycheck. I swear I didn’t know who she was.’
‘You say that, Horse, but we’ve been watching that family for a long time, you and me. I know what every one of ‘em looks like, and so do you.’
‘I didn’t see her, I swear. She was sedated and wearing a hood when we brought her in.’
Rage ripples through me at that, and I grit my teeth to hold it together. They put her out, covered her head, put their hands on her… I was going to fuckin’ kill every last one of them.
Horse looks around nervously. He knows Dad wouldn’t have come alone.
‘You double fucked up, old friend.’ Dad raises his gun again, aiming at his VP. ‘She’s not just a Campbell. She’s my daughter-in-law.’
His words hit me in the chest because I know what they mean. He knows me and Bree aren’t married, but by saying that, he’s claiming her as family.
‘What?’ Horse takes a step back.
‘Bree Campbell is Arlo’s old lady. The reason he left the club. The reason we’re here right now.’
‘Fuck.’ Horse holds up his hands, ‘ Fuck , Viking…prez. I’m sorry. I’m fuckin’ sorry!’
Another of the men here with Horse approaches my dad from behind, his gun raised, aimed at my dad’s back, but my aim is fast and accurate, and I pull my trigger, sending him down.
As his body hits the ground, Horse turns to run, but my dad’s men advance fast and ruthlessly.
Shouts and gunfire begin ringing out now, and I know that now’s my chance. I need to get inside and find Bree. I itch to get involved in the fight, defend my father, the club, and take out my fury on these sons of bitches, but I force myself in the opposite direction. I’m no fucking good to her dead , I remind myself, so I run, ducking behind the black SUV parked outside to dodge bullets as I make my way to the door. It’s locked, but one swift kick, and I’m inside, in an open-plan living room.
There’s an old twin bed in the middle of the room with cut cable ties discarded on the mattress, and I feel my jaw grind in fury at the clear evidence that she’s here. She was her, but he moved her. They haven’t had time to go far, so they’re still in here, somewhere.
‘Come out now, and I’ll make it quick,’ I call out. ‘Come and face what’s coming for you.’
‘Ar…’ Bree’s yell is cut off, but I hear where it’s coming from, and I rush through the small cottage to get to her, finding myself in a corridor with four closed doors.
‘ Fuck ,’ I yell, frustrated.
My blood pumps in my ears, drowning out the sounds of gunfire and fighting outside. I know that I’m on my own in this. I know my dad’s men have their own fight, but this is mine.
I turn to the first door and shoulder slam into it. It swings open with a heavy crash. The room is dark, but I can still make out the stacked boxes and furniture filling the space. I try the next door, and it’s the same thing—boxes and dusty furniture. I turn to leave, and it’s then that I hear her muffled screams coming from the room behind me. My blood boils with rage so much that I practically see red, and I turn, my boot hitting the door with such force that it slams into the wall behind.
I see her immediately, and my heart races to get to her. She’s gagged and tied to a chair, but she shakes her head furiously, and I know she’s telling me not to come in, but that’s not happening.
Advancing quickly, I move to her but don’t make it far before something hits the back of my head, and I stumble forward.
Turning, I see him for the first time, raising up the lamp in his hands to come in for another hit, but I’m not down, and I’m just getting started with this fucker. Rushing him, I tackle him to the floor, my shoulder crunching into his ribs before my fists come down on him again and again. I want to tear him apart. I want to rip his limbs from his body with my bare hands, and I know, in this state, I could do it. I don’t even feel the pain in my knuckles as the skin splits, and my blood mixes with his as I pummel his face into something unrecognizable.
I hear Bree yelling through the fabric in her mouth and somehow manage to stop myself turning this piece of shit into nothing more than a skinsuit so that I can go to her.
‘I’m here, pix.’ I pull the fabric from her mouth, and she cries, hard. ‘I’m here, come on. I got you.’ I glance behind to check he’s still down, he is—his chest rising and falling with ragged breaths, his face unrecognizable, so I pull out my penknife and cut the ties around her wrists. ‘You’re okay, baby. You’re okay,’ I say over and over as she sobs.
‘We need to go,’ she says, her voice trembling. ‘Please, Arlo, we have to go.’
‘We’re goin’ pix.’ I pull her up and kiss the top of her head, breathing her in. Adrenaline courses through my veins, my relief that she’s okay burning through them.
The gunfire outside has stopped, I realize, my mind drifting for a moment to my dad, wondering if he’s okay, wondering if the men left out there are going to help us or try to kill us.
My gun is tucked into the waistband of my jeans, and I jerk back as Bree suddenly reaches for it.
‘ No .’ she yells, and I turn in time to see Nolan getting up, his gun already in his hand. Time slows down, and I can’t act fast enough.
Bree shoulder barges me out of the way as he fires his gun. She lets loose, firing shot after shot, and I watch as her bullets open up his chest and his throat, his blood spraying the wall behind him
And then she drops to the floor, and I fall to my knees at her side.
‘Pix.’ I cradle her, pulling her to me as her eyes go wide, and she holds her hands over the wound in her stomach. The blood won’t stop, and I press my hands over hers. ‘No, no, Bree. Stay with me,’ I chant the words over and over, and I’m aware of other people rushing into the room, but I can’t tear my gaze away from hers. ‘I love you, Bree. I love you. Stay with me, okay, we did it. We’re free. Just a little while longer, pix, please.’
‘Arlo,’ she sobs my name, the gargle of blood in her throat muffling her voice as it sputters from her lips and then she’s torn from my arms. Somebody pulls me back and turns me away, and before I can protest, my dad grips my head in his hands.
‘ Get off of me! ’ I rage and try to pull myself away from him. I need to be with her.
‘Let them try and save her, kid,’ he says, holding me steady as I fight against his hold. I glance back to see two men in paramedic uniforms and a woman in dark scrubs tending to Bree before another man runs into the room with a stretcher.
Dropping to the floor, I watch as they kneel, trying to save the woman I love next to the body of the man who terrorized her, kidnapped her, and shot her. I have no idea how they got here, but I don’t care as I cling to my dad and cry. For the first time since I was a little kid, tears pour from my eyes, and my dad pulls me into an embrace.
‘They’ve got her, Arlo,’ he says, his voice soothing in a way I’ve never known it, ‘and I’ve got you.’