Chapter 21
Anita
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M y nerves jitter for a multitude of reasons, and it's not just from the chilly air. After driving away from The Serpents, Scarlette’s words and Eve’s reaction flood my mind to the point of worry. I wanted to tell Ronan that I think we should keep things how they were, no feeling attached, nothing serious. It was right on my tongue when he asked if I was okay, as if he could sense my hesitation or reluctance toward him. But then he looked me in the eye, and I became lost in them once again, and I was torn between my lust for him and what my heart was telling me. Or possibly, my mind, because my heart doesn't work properly for shit. It thunders like lightning striking the ground when he’s near me or touches me.
Especially when he touches me.
I almost told him, but I didn't, because I knew it would ruin the mood, possibly the mission, and we need to be clear headed to successfully conquer this.
By the time we arrive, I am finished with my two cornrow braids. Ronan parks the truck off toward the edge of a hill that has a clear, dirt road. I smooth my hand down my hair, instinctively glancing around at my surroundings. Above the hill, I take notice of a large building that resembles a warehouse, standing out awkwardly in the midst of towering inky trees. The lights are dim on the lower level, and the top level is darker. My heart jumps in excitement.
The kids.
Ronan unsnaps his seatbelt and prepares himself by putting on his gloves and grabbing his gear from the back seat. He passes me a pair of fingerless black gloves, and I place them on.
Tonight is such a different kind of night. Tonight is a time that, not only am I stepping out of my element, but I’m anxious and ready to bring these kids back to safety.
I’m just afraid I’ll fuck it up. What if I grab a kid too hard? What if I’m not gentle and calm? What if a bomb explodes as soon as I touch them?
“Hey.” Ronan’s deep voice brings me back from swallowing myself into my own dark tunnel.
I turn my head to look at him, rubbing my hand over my pants. He doesn't need to click on the car light for me to see his beautiful, encouraging gaze. The ones that make me feel calmer, like a low tide brushing onto the sand. My racing thoughts and questions ease away.
He claps my right hand into his large-gloved ones, and he places our joined hands on the middle console. “Do you trust me?”
“Yes.”
I answered that too quickly, similar to when Scarlette asked. Trusting people and their intentions were always my downfall. My father taught me that. The only person you should trust is yourself. Don't even trust me. And that’s what I did.
Now, looking at Ronan and seeing the care in his eyes and the softness in his gaze it strikes fear in my soul, but I still melt into it. Even if he doesn't trust me.
You need to tell him you’re not staying.
“I trust you,” he says.
My breath catches, and goosebumps flare on my skin. I blink as my heart flutters like butterflies flying freely in the sky. “You—” I swallow, my eyes drifting to our clasped hands, then back to him. “You trust me?”
“With my life.”
My lips curl in a shaky smile, pressure building at the back of my eyes, but I blink it away. I don’t know why those three words mean everything to me, but they do. I think subconsciously, this whole time I’ve been wanting to prove that he can trust me, even when I told myself over and over how much I don't care about any of this. Only the mission.
But it stopped being about the mission a long time ago.
He runs his thumb over my cheeks and lips softly. I nod and close my eyes, letting out a sigh of relief when I should be upset that he does. It’ll make it even harder to leave.
“I trust you, Anita, and I know your fears about this mission. I understand. Don't think too much. Just follow my lead, and you’ll catch on with ease. Soon you'll be running your own operation without my help.”
My chest tightens, and suddenly, I feel like shit because this is very much like leading someone on. The thought of seeing his reaction when I tell him there will be no operations will...break me.
Instead of telling him, I look away, still holding his hand. Ronan cups my chin, the material rough on my skin. I look at him again, and he searches my face.
His thumb grazes over my glove. “We’ll save those kids?”
I nod. “Yes.”
“We’ll make it out?”
“Yes, of course.”
“We get Victor.” His words become thicker with simmering rage.
My heart picks up. “We torture him.”
“He’ll be gone from this world, burned to ashes.” His eyes flash with a dark glint.
I nod in agreement, the sinister shrill slithering up my spine like the tattoo on my back.
He brings our hands up between us and presses his mouth to his fist. As if I already knew, I place my lips to my fist too and kiss it.
We gaze at each other as we seal our joined hands with a kiss. We’re bonded through this, locked together like heavy chains intertwined. A connection that only he and I understand.
We break apart, but we don't let go of each other. Then, in a swift motion, I lean forward, pressing my lips against his soft, warm ones. The darkness that sometimes clouds my vision flows away and some sun shines through.
I sigh, titling my head, and a low groan rumbles from his throat. Heat covers my face, going to my shoulders, and I take the moment to slip my tongue past his lips, and he meets me there, sliding his hot tongue over mine, caressing it with soft licks and twists. The hair from his beard tickles my lips and chin, sending more sparks throughout my body, and a pool of moisture forms between my legs.
Save the kids first.
I pull away, my breath catching and lips stinging from the short, but intoxicating, kiss.
I glance at Ronan’s wet lips and his eyes are hazy again, like he's ready to pounce on me now. “I told you before. You’re very tempting.”
I lick over my lips then tug my bottom lip with my teeth, containing myself because he doesn't even understand that he’s just as tempting.
“I hope this motivates you to stay alive in there.”
He removes his hand, fixing his pants, his thick cock visibly pressed against it. “Oh, it does, little snake, because when we get back home. I'm licking that sweet pussy until you're coming all over my tongue.” With that, his lips curl into a sexy smirk, and he gets out of the truck.
My thighs clasp together, like he’s already stuffed his head between them. Fuck me. What am I going to do about that man?
I shake away the images and flutters erupting all over my body and hop out of the car, slamming the door behind me. Strolling around the truck, I walk toward Ronan and the others who I met the first day I arrived at GenCre. They’re all huddled in a circle. With this being my first time working with these men, I’m worried things will go to shit, but I have to trust that Ronan’s men are top-notch and know what to do. Pedro, Chris, Vance, Abe, and Boone all turn in my direction, and I send a nod, not smiling. Though I avoid eye contact with Boone. After the incident at the library, I don’t know what is going on with him and my Serpent Sister, but it makes me uneasy, and it's fake to pretend like nothing is wrong. I can’t approach him with my dagger at his throat, but for now...I will be cordial for the mission.
Ronan's phone rings. He taps it, bringing it to his ear. “Where are you?” After a second, he turns to the woods, and I follow his gaze, but I see nothing.
He ends the call with a stoic expression, his entire energy shifting into that man who’s a deadly force to be reckoned with.
Facing us again, he speaks, “Here are the earpieces. We have extra just in case. You’ll hear Bedford with these.” He reminds us almost every time.
“ Perfecto , now I can talk shit to Bedford about Chris,” Mal rasps out with a chuckle, taking the earpiece from Ronan.
Chris flips her off, his shoulder-length dreads shifting left to right as he shakes his head.
I roll my eyes with a grin. “He’s right there, Wicked.”
“Doesn’t mean I won’t talk shit still.” Mal cracks a side smirk as if Chris can’t hear what's she saying.
I laugh again. “That’s the Wicked Witch for you.” I study her movements as she holds the heavy weapon, she doesn't seem off, like the wound she suffered in London doesn't affect her. Unless she is in pain and handling it really well. I’ll be sure to ask her once this is over.
Ronan hands Boone his earpiece. He’s quiet as usual, but my paranoia with him makes me wonder if he knows about Scarlette being in town.
“Talk shit all you want, just focus on the task and get the job done. I don't need any fuck-ups tonight,” Ronan says, his voice firm.
“Aye, aye, Headman.” Mal salutes teasingly.
Placing my earpiece in my ear, I peer around, bypassing the other men who're rounding up for the mission. That's when I noticed a broad, dark figure. I purse my lips, nodding in the direction, my guard rising and setting in. “Is that him?”
They all turn, facing the direction I’m looking at.
“Yes,” Ronan says stiffly.
He finally approaches the group standing beside the gap between Mal and Ronan. I examine his stature; he's wearing a combat vest with dark brown pants to match. It’s probably from what he wears for Victor to protect him, of some sort. A gun in attached to his side along with a blade. That day in the office, I didn’t care much about his features. I only saw one thing, and that was a gun being pointed at Ronan. I didn’t care about anything else but blowing a hole in his head.
Now under the darkest of sky he stands before us tall, broad, rich umber brown skin, and a stiff sharp jawline. I do wish I can get a read on him to understand his ‘loyalty.’
“Not a minute before, not a second later.” Ronan checks his watch. “Time has worked in your favor.”
Jax places his hands on his hips. “Figured I don’t want to get on your bad side.”
“Or meet death,” Mal adds, adjusting her bulletproof vest.
Jax doesn’t bite back. He only keeps a tight stare, slowly looking at her then back at everyone. Mainly because he knows it won’t end well for him. I will chop him in the neck if he so much as utters an insult.
Ronan ignores it all and opens the map. Red comes forward with his team; they’re the ones that will go into the building with us. The rest of the men who will be on the lookout and gather the kids getting them on the bus stay behind. They’ll also make sure Victor doesn’t attempt to escape.
Red’s large frame comes up to his with that squinted eye and his wavy brown locks. His stern gaze lands on me, but this time he grins. “Venom, it's been a while. I barely see you around,” Red says in his drooling voice as he steps beside me.
I shrug. “I like to stay hidden.”
He hums. “Maybe you should come out of hiding then.”
“Or perhaps she doesn’t need to be found,” Ronan interrupts, his attention remaining focused on the map.
I almost choke on my spit at his response.
He chuckles, still watching me. “Might be so.”
I grin stiffly, moving my focus from his naturally hooded eyes to the map. I hold the other end of the worn paper while Red grabs the other to straighten it and make it clearer to read. Boone takes his flashlight and aims in on the map, getting a good view of the way in.
Jax points his finger at the edge of the map. “We enter through here.”
I squint at where he’s pointing. My internal alarm bells are blaring. “Why not here?” I point at the other end, where it is clearly an entering point.
“Entering here will lead to more men standing guard. In the back, he doesn’t have as many. Six, to be exact. The hostages are right here.” Close to where fewer men are. “Here the other men are posted. Victor is right here in this building.” He points to the back, where it looks like a smaller section. Victor sits on the red X. I nod at his answer; it checks out. “In order to not alert Victor, we must be as quiet as possible.”
I shake my head, not liking this. “That’ll be hard if the men are carrying firearms. What about the roof? Is it clear of men?”
Jax points to it. “None.”
Ronan nods. “This could be a good entrance, and we have the equipment to make it happen.”
Jax taps the side of the building. “This is an ideal spot—no eyes, no window.”
Ronan nods. “Are we good with that?”
Everyone agrees with nods and murmurs. I interrupt. “Except Wicked. She should go with Red.”
She whips her head at me. “What?”
I point to the hill. “You cannot walk up that wall; you’re wounded. Unless you want your stitches to come loose causing you to bleed everywhere, you need to go with them.”
She snarls. “I’m fine—”
“Anita is right,” Ronan says. A tiny wave of relief washes over me at his agreeance. “You go with Red, and we’ll take Levon.”
Wicked throws her hand up in a scowl and gives me the meanest grill she can muster. I ignore it.
Ronan focuses back on the map. “Are there cameras?” he asks, still studying the layout of the building.
Jax quickly answers, “Here.” He touches one spot at the entrance. “Here. The cameras are set to see the outside and trigger with every movement—and this one is directly on the kids.”
“That's where you come in,” Red adds.
“Yes. I'll create a diversion. I can offset the cameras. I’ll get you past the entrance.”
“Good. Once inside, the focus is getting the children out before anyone sends money. He won’t get what he wants, not by a fucking long shot,” Ronan cuts in with a damaging tone.
“Right here is another escape route.” Jax points to the other side of the storage. “This is Victor's secret exit route if something like this were to happen.” There's a path behind where he is that goes into trees and then an open spot with a drawn helicopter.
My head tilts, fingers skimming along the lines to connect where he pointed. The crisp wind coming in sends shivers up my stomach and back. Soon the air won’t be a problem for me. The adrenaline becomes so high, the cold won’t bother me anymore.
“We’ll make sure to destroy the helicopter,” Mal sneers.
Ronan skim his fingers to where mine are, then to the front, figuring out the plan again. I think of something. “We can safely get the kids out from where we came in. The concern is the other guys at the end. And what if Victor pulls something dramatic with his heart detonator machine?” I say matter-a-fact, then I stare at Jax. “You’ll go and distract Victor.”
“Sounds good,” Ronan agrees, closing the map.
“Distract him?”
“You heard her.” Ronan folds the map, not as neat as it was when he started, and steps around me to open his back door and toss it on the seat.
He faces Jax, giving him a brutal stare. “Is that a problem?”
We all look at Jax quietly, waiting for his answer or hesitation. He flicks his concerned eyes back at us, then he shakes his head. “Not one.”
Ronan nods with a tick of his jaw, then turns to address his team. “Red, I need you and your team to go around the other side and get the guards that are posted out back. No noise. We need to be as stealthy as possible.”
“Keep shit to a minimum. Code for ‘fuck it up.’ Got it,” Red says with a toothy grin.
Maybe this is why he’s called Red.
Ronan actually smirks, but it's not a friendly one, it’s malice, the one that has a death ending twist behind it. The one that lifts the hairs in the back of your neck up. “You already know that.”
Red nods with understanding. Ronan shifts to Boone. “You'll deactivate the bombs. Hopefully, in enough time.”
“No worries,” Boone replies, twisting his head and cracking his neck.
Ronan nods. “Alright,” he says, then clears his throat, gesturing his body to face the crew so we can have his full attention. I stand beside Wicked Mal who's holding her AK-47 to her chest, she leans over to my ear. “You’re a bitch.”
Her anger toward me doesn't affect me...to some capacity. I like fighting alongside Wicked; she’s a great comrade, but the image of her bleeding behind that bar changed something in me. And I feel this pressure in my chest to protect her like a little sister.
“Hate me all you want,” I respond dryly.
She knocks her hip against. “Oh, I will always hate you. But you're right. You look out for me even when I’m being stubborn.”
I chew on my lip, pretending her words didn't just twist a knot in my throat. I straighten my back, hiding my smile. “Shut up and look at your boss.”
She chuckles under breath, looking forward. I gaze at him too, his face changing into that hard, stony demeanor as he clutches the gun in his holster. The dark sky spilling over him like he’s a part of the moon's shadow.
“Tonight is an unfortunate night for those kids, and I know we didn’t plan this mission out, but it only shows how capable we are in a severe circumstance.” His eerier honey eyes landed on each of us as he speaks. “We can do this and get those kids to safety. This is no different from our usual.” There are no hesitant murmurs, no questioning, or side eyes. We nod in unison; then they all raise their arms with fists clenched. Ronan’s fist is in the center, and they all tap their arms together like they're having a toast. I do the same.
“It is mercy that we leave,” they chant in unison, then lower their fists. We’re all focused, checking our bullets, grabbing extra, gathering gear, and picking a gun of our choosing.
We break apart, gathering the gear, getting a gun of our choosing, extra bullets. I’m ready to do it no matter how much my heart amps up like someone’s pumped me with adrenaline. I need to get those kids. Victor was my main objective, the man of the hour, the fucker I had to see stomped into the ground. But everything changed, and I can't live with myself doing something as selfish as going after Victor on my own just to carry out my vengeance. I can’t.
Once we are all ready, I close the trunk and stroll to the front of the truck. As I do, Ronan walks toward me with five other men at his flank. My breath catches, and I know it isn’t the moment to appreciate his aura, but fuck he’s sexy. He’s a sight for solemn moments like this. All black gear, his bulletproof vest fitted perfectly on him, and night vision googles resting in his wavy hair. My heart hammers into my throat, and my stomachs galloping with baby butterflies.
Stop it.
It's difficult to ignore his confidence as it radiates from his bones; it's nearly blinding. As is his swagger as he walks with that cruel glare, like he’s ready to grab the world by the core and tear it in half.
Shit.
The way he looks at me doesn't help it either. It's like he’s lasering through my mind to figure out what I’m thinking.
My throat now swells like an air balloon as he approaches me, and the other men, including the rest of the team, begin walking toward the building out of earshot.
“Are you ready, beautiful?” he asks warm and low as he fastens the loose Velcro on my vest.
I smirk, discreetly plucking an invisible lint off his vest. “Of course. Let's save these kids and rip that fucker to pieces.”
He narrows his gaze with a twisted smirk, growling like he wants to chew me up. “I love it when you talk gory to me.” He reaches for me, until he quickly halts, squinting at me, still holding that dangerous stare now tainted with lust.
A satisfying tickle rushing up my spine. I enjoy seeing him control himself even when he doesn't want to. “Let's do this.” I wink as I grip on my holster, stepping backwards before that carnal fire in his eyes turns into a full-on catastrophe.
His grin stretches further as he saunters to me, fixing his gun in his holster. Then we walk side by side toward where the rest of the team is awaiting. We’re stewing in our blazing rage because we’re the inferno that’s going to burn this place to the ground and Victor with it.