Chapter 35
Thirty-Five
Lance
T he problem with being a mastermind was that you expected a certain level of intelligence from your underlings. Even if they said all the right things, followed orders, didn’t think and just did , they were still kind of stupid. You’d have to be kind of stupid to take all the risks for a fraction of the reward.
It was how Rio and I had ended up in a shitty bar, watching Max talk to that redheaded fucker, Joseph Powell, who’d somehow dodged getting charged for the cockfighting incident. Max was plying him with decent liquor, and the guy was gobbling it down greedily.
Unfortunately for him—or maybe unfortunately for Anthony Smalls—he had a loose tongue when he was drunk, and Max was really fucking good at interrogation techniques. I was of the school of thought that we should just take him out the back and beat the truth out of him, but Max had insisted that perhaps that would make the evidence inadmissible.
I wasn’t sure what he said while hammered would help either. I sipped at my beer, making enough small talk with Rio that we didn’t look suspicious. I kept looking at my phone; Otillie was going clubbing with the rest of the Pack tonight, and she thought I was at my VA meeting. She kept sending me picture updates, and fuck me, she was gorgeous.
I’d told her that I was going from the VA meeting back home, because I didn’t really like clubbing, but really, I was going to do something a little risky. I mean, it was true that I didn’t like clubbing. A mass of people, loud music, flashing lights and smoke machines all fucked with my PTSD more than I’d like to admit to anyone outside of a therapist.
“The fucker can talk,” Rio grunted, turning away from glaring at the back of Joseph Powell, who was really getting quite animated. He hadn’t realized that Max was wearing a recording device. I assumed it wouldn’t even have occurred to Joseph Powell that a random guy at the bar could be anything but that.
I lifted my beer. “Let him talk himself right into a jail cell.” Or a shallow grave, depending on what he was spilling over there.
Rio tapped the neck of his beer against mine. “Cheers to that, man.”
We both took a deep sip, and I leaned back in my chair, watching everyone else in this bar. It was definitely a dive, and the clientele showed it. But it was out of the main part of town, the beer was cheap, and the music was still from the eighties. I could see the appeal for the old barflies.
Rio’s eyes slid to me. “I liked your Omega. She’s sweet. I can see why you’re smiling so hard these days, and would go to these lengths for her.”
I gave him a crooked smile. “She’s perfect.”
Frowning at me, he pointed a finger in my direction. “I still don’t know how we ended up with that fucking parrot, though. Today, he called me a cuntwaffle. Where the hell would a bird learn the word cuntwaffle?” I snorted a laugh, and Rio shook his head, looking amused. “But Max loves that damn thing already. Your girl definitely knows how to match her pets. I doubt there are many people who could stand that language outside of former military men. If only she could match me to an Omega that easily.”
Otillie had been really subtle about it too. She’d laid the seeds of the idea in Max’s mind. Then, she’d equated the care of an Omega with the care of a pet. Before you knew it, when she pitched the idea of the parrot to Max, he was down, and so was Rio, because it was one step closer to his dream of an Omega.
Clever little Omega.
I must have been smiling goofily because Rio snorted an incredulous noise. “So whipped.” But then Joseph Powell began wobbling his way to the bathrooms, and Max was following him down the hall. “I’ll go around the back,” Rio murmured.
“I’ll grab the car.”
We both left the bar through the front door, Rio cutting down the alley like a normal man going to take a piss in an inappropriate location. My car was just across the street, and I started it quickly, driving down the alley in time to see Rio and Max rolling Joseph out the emergency exit. Slowing the car enough that they could bundle in the inebriated fall guy, I waited until they were in too, then pulled out of there and back onto a main arterial road as quickly as possible.
Joseph must have sobered up pretty rapidly, because he was beginning to shout, “Who the fuck are you guys? Where are you taking me? You’re going to regret this…”
Blah, blah, blah.
I tuned him out, looking over at Max. “Did you get everything?”
He nodded. “It’s as bad as you think, maybe worse, but he spilled it all like he had verbal diarrhea. The misappropriated funding grants. The animal fighting rings. Selling them for scientific testing. Every inhumane purpose you can think of, this guy has been providing it. And people were giving him the money and animals to do it.”
That son of a bitch. “Is it enough to put him away?”
Max nodded. “Unless the cops bungle it, the Smalls Pack is going away for a long time.”
Nodding, I allowed myself a small moment of satisfaction. Onto phase two of the mission.
We drove through the darkened streets, and out this way, there were hardly any people. The ones who were here turned the other cheek, because they didn’t want to be up in anyone’s business. It was perfect, really.
Joseph was getting more and more vocal, and Rio finally snapped, putting him in a sleeper hold and shoving him unceremoniously toward the car window. Max huffed, and Rio shrugged. “What? He was annoying.”
Seemed entirely reasonable to me. We pulled around the back of one of the warehouses a few doors up from the Smalls warehouse, and found the truck Rio had stashed there earlier. It was empty, so no one paid much attention to it. Inside were as many animal crates as I’d been able to source on short notice. I was hoping we could appropriate some from inside the warehouse too, but this would have to do for now. We’d figure the rest out later.
Jumping out, Max drove the truck up to the back of the Smalls warehouse. Killing the power to the building, we scanned the place for security cameras, but obviously, no one wanted video evidence of their illegal activities. We dragged Joseph out, stuffing him inside one of the empty crates. One that was still coated in shit and piss, from whatever terrified creature had been in there before.
There must have been a hundred animals in this place, and Rio whistled. “Fuck. This is worse than I thought.”
Max looked downright feral. “Let’s get to work. Then I vote we burn this shithole to the ground.”
I nodded my agreement. This place didn’t deserve to stand after we were done.
We did the dogs first, some of which were so beaten that they were basically shut down. They didn’t even look at me as I picked them up and carried them out to the truck. They just trembled as I put them in the cages.
I wanted to kick Joseph around a little, then track down Anthony Smalls and beat the shit out of him too.
There were cats with kittens, battered-looking dogs covered in scars, and dogs so aggressive I wasn’t sure they’d even be able to be rehabbed. But at least they wouldn’t die in pain, scared and alone. Rabbits, guinea pigs, and even a fucking monkey were in a side room. Plus a whole wall of battered-looking roosters.
By the time we had everything loaded in the back of the truck, and even more in the cargo area of the SUV, I was emotionally battered. There was something about people doing this to innocent creatures for entertainment that made me irrationally angry. I really needed to go home and hug Akio. Then cuddle with my Omega and let her soothe the hurt in my heart right now. I’d killed more people than I could count, and even some animals, during my time in the Marines. But this was fucked, even by my standards.
Rio was holding two puppies with huge paws and blocky heads, who whimpered and shook, and I could sense the same rage in him. We might have blood on our hands, but at least I was fairly certain we were the good guys. Not whatever fucking evil this was.
“Is that the last of them?” I asked softly, and he nodded. “Good. Get them loaded up. Max and I will finish taking out the trash.” I walked over to where Joseph was still in the cage, unable to get out, and I smirked at him. The expression must have been as scary as intended, because he pissed himself. I squatted down in front of him. “I’m going to burn this place down now, Joseph. You’ll spend your last moments in fear and pain, just like you wanted for these helpless creatures. I hope God grants you forgiveness, because you’ll get none from me.”
Nodding at Max, I watched as he got out a can of gas and started to pour it around the building, where the floor met the walls, and over the now-empty cages. He poured a great big puddle right in front of Joseph, who watched it spread underneath his cage.
I looked at Max. “Do you think he’ll die from the smoke and flames before he’s cooked alive?”
Max shrugged. “I hope not.”
Joseph was shaking his bars now. “No, please! Please! ”
I turned away and walked toward the doors. I wasn’t actually going to burn this little weasel alive, but I wanted him to feel real terror before we let him go.
“There’s an Omega here! Anthony was getting into human cattle,” Joseph shouted, and my feet stopped dead.
Maybe I’d changed my mind. Maybe I would let him cook.
Turning on my heel, I strode back to the cage. “What did you just say?”
He was shaking now. “There’s an Omega here in the warehouse. If you let me go, I’ll tell you where she is. I’ll tell you everything. Please.” Joseph was crying now, snot running down his face.
Max growled. “You better start fucking talking, asswipe, or I’m going to beat the truth out of you.”
Joseph shook his head. “I didn’t want to. I mean, animals are one thing, but Omegas are something else. I like money, but I’m not a psycho, you know? But Anthony got into business with some cult, and they agreed to sell him their Omegas. He was going to farm them out to feral Alphas.”
“How many?” Max ground out.
“Just one. She’s the prototype.” Joseph looked desperate. “I swear, I didn’t want to do it.”
God, this piece of shit. “Where is she?”
Joseph shook his head. “Let me out first. I promise, I’ll leave. I’ve never seen you guys before. I’ll leave the state. The country. The fucking planet. Just please, let me go.”
I opened the cage, hauling him out and holding the cocksucker high in the air. “You have until I count to five before I snap your neck and search this place myself.”
He was now panting, and it smelled like he’d shit himself. “In the main office, under the rug is a trapdoor. She’s below us.”
I looked at Max. “Go.” But he was already running before I’d even finished the syllable.
Joseph was still stammering out excuses and pleas, and I tuned him out. I was tempted to still snap his neck. If I didn’t think that it would undo all the hard work I’d done to make myself stable, that it wouldn’t affect my bond with Otillie-James, I just might’ve.
Max reappeared, a girl in his arms. She was wrapped in a blanket, and he nodded at me, striding straight out of the warehouse. His face was a cold mask of fury, and I knew if I didn’t let this fucker go right now, Rio would be back in here and would kill him personally. I didn’t want that on my friend’s conscience either.
I dropped Joseph to the ground. “Leave this city tonight. If I find out you contacted your former boss, I will track you down, cut out your tongue, and then set you on fucking fire. Do I make myself clear?” I leaned forward until I was in his face. “I can and will find you if you fuck me over, Joseph. There isn’t a rat hole on this fucking planet that I won’t trace you to. Do you believe me?” I whispered the threat, and he shook harder.
“Yes.”
“Then go, before I decide the world is better off without you in it.” He didn’t need to be told twice, sprinting out the door and into the night.
I found Rio striding back into the warehouse, incandescent rage on his face, as I’d predicted. “Omegas?” he hissed, and I nodded. Pulling out a Zippo from my pocket, I lit it and threw it behind me. Silently, we watched as the place went up in flames.
Then I climbed back into the truck, Rio and Max climbing into the SUV. As we drove away, that hellhole was lighting up the darkened Rock Hill skyline.
Let the fucker burn.