CHAPTER FORTY
Reid
The second we hit the long, winding road leading up to the strip, I begin to question our approach.
We’re just going to pull up like we’re having dinner with our granddad.
We have nothing with us. No weapons. It’s just us and Malia.
And I’m not saying that as an insult. I’m pretty sure Malia could take on two men at the same time.
But will it be enough? We don’t know who’s there.
Are we meant to go in there and point at them, and then demand they give us the child back? Do we stamp our feet? Have a dance off?
We don’t really have a truck load of options here. One thing that isn’t an option, though, is that we have to move quickly. Black can’t escape again.
“I don’t want to mess with people’s heads, but if we don’t get him this evening, I have a sinking feeling we won’t see him again,” I declare, voicing my fears.
“He’s going to have men,” Jaxon adds. “I have two bats and a crowbar in my boot. You should get the balaclavas out too. Maverick has them in everyone’s car just in case.”
“Stop here and let me out,” Malia orders.
“What? Why?” I rush out.
Is she fucking stupid? We are close. I didn’t expect her to be a chicken shit.
“I’m not a chicken shit, Reid,” she snaps, and my eyes bug out as I have an internal mini freak out.
I didn’t say any of that out loud. My eyes squint as I stare at her.
Is she a mind reader? “I’m not a mind reader either, but whilst they are concentrating on you guys, I want to get Milly out of there.
She’ll be the first person they hurt to get at you. ”
Jaxon puts the car in park and waits for her to get out. “Are you not going to take a bat, or even a balaclava?”
She rolls her eyes at me, acting like I just asked if she wants to take a bath with a pig. “Trust me, I’ll find a weapon and I don’t plan to be seen.”
She’s lying, but it’s her choice about what she does. We’re not her keepers, and despite the sound Liam makes, no one else makes a move to stop her either. I can tell by his side profile that he’s a mix between being pissed and concerned. His clenched jaw doesn’t ease up at all.
We drive on as she disappears into a cluster of trees which should bring her out either at the side or behind the hanger. The road curves slightly after a few minutes.
“I feel like we need to make an entrance, but I’m too scared the ideas running through my head might get Milly killed,” I admit.
“We don’t need a big entrance,” Liam states as I kneel up on the seat, punching the parcel shelf so it falls in. With a little effort, I manage to get the two bats and the crow bar out, plus grab a handful of balaclavas, handing two of them to Liam, plus one of the bats and the crow bar.
Three men rush out when we are less than a minute away from the hanger. All of us are partially wearing the balaclavas, but when we get close enough to be picked out in a line-up, we pull the material down over our mouths. “Let’s get rid of some obstructions,” Jaxon whispers.
His foot hits the accelerator and I grip on to the headrest. None of the dumb fucks running toward us think to move out of the way.
We hit one dead on, which makes the car jerk when he smashes against the windscreen.
The sound his head makes hitting the glass is music to my ears.
It means one down. The other two get clipped by the front lights on either side, but I barely notice.
I only see them hit the ground and hear their cries as we pass.
Jaxon slams his foot down on the brake, and my fingers tighten on the headrest to keep myself steady.
We’ve barely stopped before I have my door open.
I swing the bat at the first man who comes near me, and clearly, he wasn’t expecting us to have weapons.
He doesn’t block my assault, so when the bat hits the side of his face, and that splintering crunch echoes in the air, I know lights are out for him.
I howl in delight as I rush to jump on the bonnet of the car, aiming for the man who tries to sneak up on Jaxon with a baton.
Despite the circumstances, I miss this rush. We used to feed off our encounters with the Carters. It was never this bloody, but the adrenaline and excitement pumping through my veins is just the same.
I boot a man in the chin. His head flies back, blood spraying out of his mouth and what I’m pretty sure are a couple of teeth.
When I swing the bat at another man, I picture my mum on the floor of our kitchen.
It comes out of nowhere, and I nearly lose my footing.
This is no longer fun for me. This is letting nearly two years of anger out.
This is payback. This time when I swing my bat, it hits the man in his thirties a little bit harder.
I’m pretty sure I’ve just fractured his eye socket if the instant swelling and gaping cut is anything to go by.
I jump down from the bonnet and reach for another man, this one smaller than the last guy. I grip his neck and slam him down on the bonnet face first. “Where the fuck is your boss?” I growl.
He doesn’t answer, but he also doesn’t try to fight back. Still, I lift him up and smack his head on the car, knocking him clean out.
A small plane is on the tarmac not far away, so I take a step in that direction but don’t get far before I see two sets of feet running away.
The same legs I’ve watched run through the fields to get away from the house before they are caught doing something they shouldn’t be. I would recognise the twins anywhere.
Which is why I know the plane isn’t safe to go near. Which means Black isn’t inside. My brothers wouldn’t do that. They wouldn’t make it easy for Andrew.
But he knows we are here, and that’s why when I hear the sound of screaming and crying, everything inside of me tenses. It’s my mum’s scream, and whilst deep down I know she’s in the hospital being treated, my feet still move.
I race inside the hanger through the double doors carved into the much larger one that let’s planes in and out.
Inside holds a run-down glider and wooden crates that have straw seeping out.
It’s like too many things are happening, especially when the walls of the building rattle, like something has just driven into them if the metal scraping is anything to go by.
It’s the video playing on the steel wall on the side that has all of my attention.
Because it’s not just any video. It’s of our mum in the kitchen back home.
It’s... I watch as she is forced into the air and then slammed down on the table.
Her back arches as a painful breath flies out of her mouth.
“No,” I rasp, my knees threatening to buckle when he jerks her entire body up. I see her dazed expression, I can feel her pain, and my stomach twists painfully.
My gaze is so focused on the screen, I don’t feel anyone come behind me until an arm comes around my neck. Before I can react, a knife is pressed into my flesh under my chin. My entire body turns rigid, the blood in my veins going cold.
“Drop the bat,” he orders, and it’s a voice I don’t recognise. When I don’t listen, the knife pierces my flesh, and I feel warmth trickle down my neck.
I grit my teeth because this is becoming fucking ridiculous. Scars and wounds may sound hot when it’s just one, but at this fucking rate, my entire body will have more of them than tattoos.
The bat slips through my fingers when he pushes the knife in more, the tip now wedged into my skin. It stings with a painful vibration, but my anger overrides the pain. The sound of the bat hitting the floor echoes around the room.
“I wouldn’t do that,” Jaxon growls from behind us.
“Stop,” the man warns.
The man holding me spins us until we are now facing the front of the building. Jaxon’s eyes are wild, but they freeze on the knife penetrating my skin, and something else passes over them. Something dark, cold and deadly. He pins the man with a venomous look, his nostrils flaring.
“That’s not going to happen,” Jaxon replies in a gravelly voice as he takes another step, the broken glass on the ground crunching under his shoe.
My gaze shoots to his in bewilderment. Does he not see the knife piercing my chin? It’s going to fucking scar as it is. And he’s standing there antagonizing the man with the weapon. The very sharp fucking weapon that better be fucking clean. I don’t want an infection too.
The knife jerks in my chin, slicing the flesh easily. I’m waiting for it to penetrate my entire face, so it takes me a minute to realise that the man isn’t finishing the job, but falling to the ground. I jump away, uncaring of how I look as I place my hand to my chin.
I glare at my twin brother, who has clearly just joined the fight. “Did you not see where he had a knife in my face, Luke?” I screech. I’m not even embarrassed about how high my voice goes. “My fucking face.”
He rolls his eyes. “Next time I’ll leave him to stab your face.”
“Prick,” I growl, lifting the bottom of my T-shirt to press against the cut.
“Someone turn this fucking off,” Jaxon roars, flying up a set of metal stairs two at a time to find the projector.
“Where is Milly?” I ask Luke, pulling his gaze from the video. “Mum is going to be okay. I promise.”
“With the twins outside,” Malia announces, walking through a doorway at the back of the building. Her voice is cold though. “She’s okay.”
My shoulders drop with relief, and I sag back against a crate. “Black?”
Maverick comes into the room, holding Black up by the scuff of his suit jacket and shirt. “We found him trying to escape out back,” Maverick states.
I grin at the state of Black’s face already. It’s not as bad as it should be, but we are only getting started. The fabric covering his mouth is also a new wonderful addition.
“I know you boys really want to take your time, but the twins have explosives on the plane. You may want to put that tarp down and get this done quick,” she states, pointing to a tarp covering a bunch of crates.