Chapter Sixteen
Nashville
I’m not in the least bit surprised when my brother is waiting outside the airport in a G-Wagon with tinted windows and red trim on the alloy wheels. It’s so shiny I need sunglasses to look at it.
He’s leaning back against the side of the hood with his arms crossed in dark fatigues and a tight black T-shirt that his muscles are practically bursting through. There is a holster strapped to his thigh but there is no gun in it. Which makes sense given we’re at an airport.
“Subtle,” I stop beside the monster truck.
“Get in the car.”
“I might need a stepladder.”
“Cos you’re a short-ass.”
“Fuck you.”
Camden slaps my shoulder and grins. It’s been a couple of years since I saw him in person so this is nice. The banter never changes but we have each other’s backs and would die for one another, no questions asked.
“You gonna go to Nashville and see mom while you’re here.”
“It’s not exactly a social call.”
“That’s why I didn’t mention it,” Camden starts the car and pulls away from the collection point. “You need to come see her soon though.”
“Yeah, just with everything going on, it’s hard to get back.”
Technically I’m not supposed to tell anyone about club business, but Camden is different, I know I can trust him. It also helped him when he was looking into finding Sheridan and Nero gave his blessing, so long as I didn’t give him too much information.
“Ronnie wants to throw her a sixtieth birthday party, so be prepared for an invitation.”
I could say something stupid here but don’t because mom deserves to be treated to a party. She should receive an award for raising us four boys and not tearing every hair out of her head.
“Okay. How’s dad?”
“Same old,” he shrugs. “Getting on mom’s last nerve but god forbid you tell her he needs a kick up the ass.”
“They’re set in their ways,” I watch the dark road ahead as we make the forty-minute drive to Elizabethtown. “I don’t think it would be normal if they weren’t communing through shouts and exaggerated hand gestures.”
“Truth. I’ve left Martinez watching the house where she’s at,” he looks over at me quickly, the seriousness in his expression is a stark change to the grinning idiot. “It’s not pretty, Cal.”
I nod but don’t say anything.
“We haven’t seen her but have solid intel she is inside.”
“Any way of knowing her condition?”
“No, but I’d say be prepared for the worst.”
“Fuck,” I lean an elbow on the bottom of the window and rest my head against my palm.
I haven’t told Nero all the details yet, because I need to be sure. If I thought the house where Charley was staying is bad, this place is a million times worse. I’m also not sure of Nero’s relationship to Sheridan. She might be his kid’s mom, but they were never together.
She is Speedway’s sister and I’m not looking forward to telling him what has been going on.
“I figured you’d want to go straight there.”
Camden dips his chin toward the glove compartment. Inside are two Glock 17s.
“Martinez called in the crew when I picked you up. There will be eight of them, plus you and me.”
“Jesus Cam, is it that bad?”
“Better to be safe than sorry. Not to mention this isn’t going to be clean, so we’ll need clean up before we call in the cops.”
“How many of them are there?”
“We’ve sat on it for a few days and watched comings and goings and figure at any one time there are four of them inside.”
“This is fucking horrible.”
“Tell me about it.” His jaw clenches and he drives in silence for a while.
It’s funny, in a none ‘ha ha’ way that both me and Camden have turned out the way we are. We have morals and there are things neither of us would ever do, but at the same time, we’re not afraid to do what needs to be done, and we’ve made choices and done things most people would object to.
“What about the cops?” I ask after we’ve gone a good ten miles.
“I have a relationship with a Detective in Narcotics, she’s good people, she’ll take them down,” he glances at me again. “We don’t need to worry about what happens until we call them in. You traveled on the ID Blaze got you?”
“Yeah.”
“No one will know you were here. I’ve got medics lined up too.”
My stomach is sinking the more he talks. I’m glad I decided not to visit my parents, this shit is going to be hard to deal with and I won’t be the best person to be around afterwards.
“Keep your cool in there, Callum.”
“You don’t need to tell me that, Camden.”
“Martinez has years of experience with this shit and even he reacted.”
“I guess we wouldn’t be normal people if we didn’t.”
Camden gives a tight nod, and we drive the rest of the way in silence, each lost in our own thoughts, each preparing for what is about to happen.
When we reach his men, there aren’t involved introductions, just names so we know who I am talking or listening to on the comms.
Martinez eyeballs me enough that I want to square up to him but Camden stares his man down and tells him I can handle this and wouldn’t be here if he didn’t believe that.
It’s almost eleven at night and the street the house is on is quiet. It’s run down, a lot of the surrounding properties are boarded up.
Camden told me people started moving out of the area years ago when drugs started moving in. The cops know about what goes on down here, but they rarely do anything, which is why I’m still skeptical about Camden’s detective.
We don’t have a chapter in Kentucky but there is one in Nashville. Nero decided to keep them out of it, which means my cut is back home.
It’s weird to not to have it on. The less identifiable we are here, the better. There is no need to ask about cameras, this is the kind of place the people who run it wouldn’t want anything being recorded.
If he was worried, Camden will have already dealt with it. He has a woman who does his tech that Blaze would be impressed by. Once we’ve run down everything we know is inside, and Martinez has shared how to react if there are any variables, we surround the house.
Out of experience, I’m at a different entrance to my brother. He can’t help but try to keep an eye on me and that compromises both of us.
Turns out they over planned the attack because the three men guarding the house are taken out before I even get inside. I step over the first dead body without a second glance.
Three more of Camden’s men have rounded up the assholes who are visiting. They’ve all been zip tied and blindfolded and dumped in an empty room on the ground floor. Anyone who hasn’t taken the advice of keeping their mouth shut has duct tape over their mouths.
Downstairs consists of a kitchen, a large room that has some couches, a table with a poker game set up but no one playing and a TV hanging off the wall at an odd angle, like whoever set it up couldn’t take the time to do it properly.
Everything in here is brown and smells like stale cigarette smoke and sweat.
The last room is being used for storage, like a hotel supply room. Bed sheets, and giant bottles of cleaning products are what get to me the most.
There are three floors and each one has been adapted to fit as many rooms in as possible. As I round the stairs to the first floor, I cover my mouth. It smells really bad. Like drains, vomit and semen. Whoever the fuck thinks there is anything sexy about coming here…
There is no point following that thought. The kind of men who come here are sick fucks who need their brains fumigating and locking the fuck up.
Each door is opened as I walk by, Camden’s men doing a full sweep to make sure no one is hiding. Some of the rooms are empty. Most of them aren’t.
My head tells my heart not to get involved in this but how the fuck can I not?
There are women in various states in the rooms. I think it’s the ones who are more alert and sobbing at being found that hurt more than the ones who are completely out of it on drugs.
Camden comes up behind me when I get to a room with a girl who looks to be in her late teens, she’s sitting on the bed, staring out of the window, like she doesn’t even know we’re here. Her arms and legs are covered in bruises, her hair looks like it hasn’t been washed in weeks.
The trauma these women have dealt with fucks with my head.
“We’ll get them help,” Camden says, drawing my attention. He leans in close. “I fucking swear it Callum. Not a single one of these women will know pain like this again.”
“Easier said than done,” I murmur.
He knows what I mean, they won’t get over this any time soon, if they ever do. He leads me away from the room and doesn’t pause to let me check anywhere else, saying everything has been cleared and Sheridan is on the third floor.
When I get to her room, Martinez is standing just inside the doorway with a man on his knees, his hands tied but up over the back of his head, not at his lower back. Martinez has hold of the ties and a gun pointed at the back of his head.
I take all of that in before looking at Sheridan. I don’t know her, I’ve never met her, but I’m pretty sure even Speedway wouldn’t recognize her now.
She’s way too skinny, the same bruises mar her skin and track marks line her inner elbow. She too is staring into space.
“She’s okay now,” Xavier says and I turn to see him behind the door, he’s holding up a needle and everything you need to inject heroin is behind him.
“What is that?”
“Narcan,” he says. “She was OD’ing when we came in here.”
“Fuck.” I run a hand over my head and turn away from her.
“This piece of shit was shooting her up. Like he knew who we were here for.”
Martinez kicks the man in the kidneys but keeps tight hold of his wrists so he can’t get away. He is wearing steel toe boots as well and we all hear the crack of his ribs.
“She’s okay, she’s going to get through this?”
“The medics are on the way up. They’ll make sure she is okay before we move her,” Camden says from the doorway. Then he looks at Martinez. “Take him next door, the room is empty.”