34. Crank
34
CRANK
When we gather outside the Fabbri office, our losses are surprisingly light. None of the Sons killed, which I'll always appreciate. Shiv took a bullet in the thigh though, which needs to get taken out and fixed. And hardly anyone got away from this without a scrape. At least mine's light. More blood than substance. And honestly, right now, I don't fucking care. Not until we find out where Paige is.
Not a lot of Fabbris left. Is it wrong to be a little happy the snooty receptionist is one of the guys that bit it? Apparently he'd pulled a fucking machine gun out from behind the counter, so what could the boys do, right? Most of them ran off when things turned our way, and for better or worse, we let them go. We're after Stefano, not looking for a fucking massacre. Several surrendered and were arrested by the oink squad, but knowing the mob they won’t be in for long.
“Any luck?” I ask Poe. He's scrolling through shit on his phone so quickly I can barely follow his fingers. Some kind of software that he can log into remotely, but that's about the limit of my understanding. I know it gives him access to things that let him trace people if they leave the right kind of tracks behind. Or get caught on the right security cameras.
Poe shakes his head, his face a mask of frustration. “Nothing. I got the make and look of the car when I found a camera that caught them pulling onto the highway, but the ramp splits farther down, so I have no fucking idea which direction they went. But Heather betrayed us for sure. She was fucking driving and I didn’t see a gun to her head. I’m still working on it. Means they could still be on the highway, or that they're any number of places out there, and the more time, the more places. It's already pretty much like winning the lottery for me to catch them randomly.”
Savage nods, barely controlling his fury. It's not aimed at us, probably mostly himself, but right now we need to focus on finding her, not getting all fucking emotional. We'll do that later, once we've found her. And if there's anything left of Fabbri at that point, we'll make sure there fucking isn't.
Hellfire comes over and puts his hand on my shoulder, on the opposite side of where I was shot. “You alright?”
“Yeah, takes more than that to take me down. You haven’t heard anything?”
He shakes his head. “Sorry. I'm keeping all my contacts open, but it's like a fucking needle in a haystack. Without even knowing which direction they went, there isn't much we can do about it.”
“Yeah, I get it.”
Hellfire's pocket dings. “Message.” He pulls it out and when he reads, his eyes widen. He holds it up. “This look like anything to you?”
There's a message, from fucking Stefano Fabbri. All it says is: “Lawn dry Palace kitten.” Definitely not the kinda message he'd send.
“What the fuck? What’s that supposed to mean?” Savage growls.
Poe looks at it and cocks his head. “Not lawn dry palace, laundry place . It’s autocorrect. I think Paige got a hold of his phone.”
Savage nods. “You think they went to the laundry? It might make sense. Heather and Paige know it. They know it’s closed and who the fuck goes back to the scene of the crime to hide? So dumb it's fucking genius.”
“Comes from Fabbri's phone, though.” Hellfire frowns. How do you know it's legit and not a trap?
Savage shakes his head. “Kitten. Only Paige would know that I call her that. And why the fuck would he try to actually get our attention? I nicked him with a bullet when he ran. He's wounded, on the run, and he knows that we want Paige back. He has her alive so she can be his hostage. I don't know how Paige got on his phone, but it feels legit. Besides, do you have any better ideas?”
Hellfire shakes his head. “Nope.”
I can't contain the grin that spreads from one ear to the other. “We know where she is. Hopefully, Fabbri doesn't know that we know, but if she doesn’t delete this right away, it’s only a matter of time before he sees the message was sent.”
Savage is already walking towards his bike. “What are you fuckers standing there gabbing about. Fabbri's a dead man walking, and I think it's about time we put a stop to that.”
“I gotta clean up here. Do you need backup?” Hellfire looks at the members and cops milling around, dealing with Fabbri's men or getting medical attention.
Poe shakes his head. “We’ll update you if it looks like more than just one sad old gangster. This is personal. Fabbri doesn't stand a fucking chance, and if he gets off the hook this time, it won't be because we didn't have enough fucking men.” He follows Savage towards the bikes.
I crack my knuckles as I join them. It's payback time.