Chapter 87 - Ronan
RONAN
They were supposed to be waiting outside, waiting for a signal or some word from us that it was time to go inside and wreak havoc on Sokolov’s little slice of hell when I got the text from Kane that Celia had snuck off and was now missing.
“Let me find this stupid fucking bird, or she’ll never let me live it down,” I whispered into the phone, unsure if I was heading in the right direction in this pitch-black basement.
There was a dripping of a faucet somewhere in the distance, loud and constant enough that in the two minutes I’d been down here it was already driving me to the edge of madness. If anything was alive down here, it was certainly insane from it.
“I’m not waiting anymore Zerkos, I’m going in.” Santos clicked off the line and I sent a voice message to Fletcher and Ethan to let them know it was time.
I pulled my Glock out, just in case, and delved further into the dark abyss of the basement, kicking the bodies of the Bratva grunts who’d seen me breaking in through the window.
“Dirty slut,” a kid’s voice called out, couldn’t have been more than ten years old.
My fury ripped through me, and I pounded my heels through the space, no longer afraid of who I’d find down here because I knew I’d rip through them in order to free the child that had found themselves stuck in Sokolov’s grasp.
I pulled my phone out to shine the flashlight, trying to find the source of the voice and only seeing empty kennels stacked one on top of the other. If they weren’t down here, then they likely were already up there, being sold off.
“Lion!” the kid yelled from behind me, but just as I spun to find the voice my light shined a mere foot away from the gigantic jungle cat asleep in the corner.
There was a heavy chain joined to the wall and it connected to a metal collar on its neck. In a matter of seconds my emotions ranged from pure unadulterated fear for my life like I’d never felt before, to feeling like the luckiest bastards alive.
That leash was all the friend I needed in this world right now.
I took a few steps back, my shoulders hitting against something and causing a loud rattling and wings flapping behind me.
I sent my arm back just as I turned to see what I’d stumbled into, knocking what seemed to be a small bird cage off a table.
My reflexes were faster than my own brain, catching it before it had a chance to fall and injure the parrot inside but not quick enough to stop it from having a full-on, aviary-style freak out.
There was no greater piss-your-pants type of moment like feeling the hot breath of a giant feline on your back.
To hear the low growl of an animal you know you’d likely never be able to defend yourself against just seconds away from you.
I jerked forward, diving onto the ground with the bird cage glued to my chest as the Lion rose to his hind feet, paws stretched up into the air while its leash kept it from coming any further.
Fucking Christ.
I was getting too lucky. Which meant it was going to run out soon.
I rolled out from underneath him before he had a chance to drop his paws onto me and scrambled backwards.
I shouldn’t have been shocked, she warned me about the goddamn lion, but for some reason it seemed too outrageous to believe.
Guns went off upstairs and I knew my time was being cut short.
I could only hope Santos had been able to successfully free the girls that had been kept in these now empty cages before bullets began to fly up there.
“Slut!” The bird parroted out, relaxing me at the realization that the voice didn’t belong to a child.
Was I more angry that I’d been sent on a mission to rescue a foul mouthed bird, or that said bird was now impeding me from heading straight into the fire myself?
I backed up as much as possible from the roaring cat, getting away from the lead of his chain so I could finally turn my back to him and run.
I took the basement stairs three at a time, pushing the door open with my shoulders to total chaos.
Our men had completely overrun the place from every entrance and exit, bullets flying through open air as Sokolov’s grunts shot at us from every angle. I slipped back through the basement door, dropping the bird's cage on the ground.
“Alright little dude, I’ll have to come back for you.”
“Cocksucker!” the little shit cawed out like it understood me.
I pulled a second pistol from its holster and readied myself, opening the door and shooting first at the Bratvas standing just a few feet away from me. Soon as they dropped to the ground Ethan came charging towards me with a grin on his face like I’d just saved his life.
“There’s a fucking bird on the other side of this door. Get it out of here,” I told him.
“Are you fucking serious right now?” His eyebrows creased in the middle of his forehead.
“Deadly. That bird is fucking family to her.” I gave him a flat stare before I turned and headed past the hallway, following the sounds of yelling and bullets flying.
Sokolov’s men used the corpses of their patrons as shields while their fingers stayed glued to the triggers on their automatic rifles. I slid behind the bar, both guns ready to fire, but there was only one small waitress, covered in blood hidden among the bodies.
“Stay hidden okay?” I told her and she nodded her head. “It’ll be over soon.”
I peeked my head up above the bar to scan the room. There were five Bratva’s shooting into the booth, too many of them for me to see who may be trapped in that corner. A bullet whizzed past my head just a hair away from my ear and I sank to the ground once more. Then I heard her scream.
Guns readied at the top of the bar before I raised my head up to see out again. I cleared a path for them, Mateo at her front and Fletcher on her six as they ran towards the DJ booth. I shot at the men surrounding it, taking two down so that Mateo could slip inside for protection.
I needed to make my way there. I hopped over the bar one bullet flying straight into a Bratva grunt’s head, as I dropped my head just in time to avoid one to the brain myself. Celia shot three times, one bullet missing but the last two hitting the remainder of the men surrounding the DJ booth.
From another door, four more men ran out, their semi-automatics burning through the room at rapid speed.
Fletcher was giving her cover and shooting at Sokolov’s men hiding behind toppled cocktail tables as they ran towards the DJ booth to Mateo.
The bullet hit Fletcher dead center in the forehead, his body falling limp in front of her.
She didn’t scream but her eyes went blank, wide and full of a terror I hadn’t seen in her before.
She’d killed plenty of people before.
She’d been a child killing other children. She murdered innocents. She took the life of her own family. But she’d yet to see a good man die. One that had pledged to protect her, one that had fought for her and now alongside her.
I charged, dropping my body over hers as fast as I could, shielding her from the incoming rain of bullets as I laid on the ground on top of her.
“Are you hit?” I asked, crawling behind the DJ booth and pulling her into me.
She had that vacant look still on her face like she wasn’t fully registering the chaos all around us.
“Baby, I need you present for this.” I gave her cheek a hard tap and she blinked at me in shock.
“Fletcher—“
“Is dead,” I confirmed. “We can mourn him later, we have to get the fuck out of here,” I said it to her but it was meant for me.
I’d lost plenty of brothers in the middle of action. The battlefield wasn’t the place for grieving unless you were prepared to drop into the grave as well.
“Okay,” she whispered, shaking her head.
“If you’re in the building, get the fuck out.” Santos said into his phone, advising our men to head out.
“Sokolov?” I asked.
“He’s dead,” Mateo confirmed.
“Pluto?” she asked me with worry.
“Ethan got him out,” I assured her, watching her shoulders relax.
“Any captives?” She asked.
“Four were tied up backstage. They’re already loaded into the van,” Santos answered.
“Let’s roll the fuck out of here then.” I reloaded my clips, tossing a gun to Mateo.
“Wait,” she yelled, her eyes wide with a look I didn’t recognize from her.
Worry.
“I love you. All of you pendejos.”
I raked my fingers through her hair, a soft smile pulling at just one side of my face. She looked between the three of us, no response needed on our part. She knew how we felt. She knew how hard the three of us loved and fought to keep her.
She was saying she loved us in case she died.
We wouldn’t return the sentiment because we knew she wouldn’t.
I remembered the candle she’d lit, and I pulled her chin towards my face.
“You’re protected, remember?”
She smiled and nodded, some of the weight seeming to lift off her shoulders.
“Ok, take cover,” I warned them, Mateo and Santos dropping their bodies over her despite her clueless protests.
My brothers and I were so in sync I didn’t have to let them in on the full scope of the plan, they knew me well enough to read the signs and react accordingly. I pulled the grenade from my belt, pulling the pin and tossing it over the booth towards Sokolov’s men surrounding us.
They yelled but the blast soon overpowered any other sounds in the room.
The high pitch sizzling in my ear muffled any chance of communication between us.
I grabbed a smoke bomb next and pulled it, tossing it over and letting the smoke fill the room to give us the cover we’d need to get the fuck out.
Cries of pain amplified throughout the room and bullets flew aimlessly through the smoke. Santos and Mateo surrounded Celia, the four of us moving together in a tight huddle towards the exit. A sharp pain hit me in the chest, sending me stumbling backwards and dropping to my ass.
“Ronan!” Celia cried, but I waved her off.