Chapter 12
When you see something beautiful in someone, tell them. It may take a second to say, but for them it could last a lifetime. - unknown
P lague
I stare through the colored glass wall, wondering if it’s still the Seth inside I know or if they’ve fucked him up beyond repair. If he is still intact, well, this could be a ploy. I have no idea what sort of twisted fucks Carlos Montoya and his partner are, but with them being cartel, I know I should be frightened. This entire setup could be some sick twisted game they’ve decided to string out in favor of collecting cash from Seth’s family, the kidnapping and potential sale of his sister, or perhaps once he heard I was trying to contact Seth, they decided to fuck me up in the process too.
“Let’s just grab him and get the hell out of here. Don’t overthink it, you’re caught up in your head again,” Powerhouse grumbles, keeping me centered, and kicks in the door.
The men on the couches watch us cautiously, guns still trained on my childhood friend. “We were told to wait here with him, that you’d show up,” one of them speaks to the both of us, clearly not knowing who is who with our faces still covered in the balaclava. The room’s much quieter, blocking out most of the blaring alarm and flashing lights, thanks to the thick, blue glass. It brings everything into fresh focus, cutting off the chaos of the club. Or maybe it’s the tablet kicking in, but whatever it is, suddenly I feel like I can see, think, and process the situation clearer.
“Where’s your boss? We want Carlos or Draco, where are they hiding?”
They stare at us, not offering up a single word. I didn’t expect them to, but it’d make things a hell of a lot easier.
“What do you want?” Powerhouse asks, instead of demanding to know who we shoot first, like I would’ve.
One mumbles something; I think they speak Spanish, but I’m not completely sure as I took German when I was in school. I was young and dumb and let Seth talk me into believing we’d go backpacking across Europe one day.
The other directs, “We’re going to walk with him to the elevator.” He shifts his head to the side and for the first time since entering, I realize there’s more to the room you can’t see from the glass outside. The room goes from glass to what appears to be a solid wall, but in the middle of the wall is a line, just a touch lighter than the blue paint.
It’s all pretty fucking deceiving and we could’ve been walking into a trap we didn’t see beforehand…but in reality, this entire trip feels like a goddamn trap.
“How do we know when those doors open, we won’t be shot down?”
One shrugs, yanking Seth up to his feet, making him yelp with pain. The men shift until Seth is blocking most of their bodies. “I can say you don’t have to worry, but we both know it may not be true,” the guy speaks again, and I decide I want to kill him first for the bullshit half-assed answer.
Rather than taking their words in and worrying, I grin and let loose a loud laugh as the pill definitely begins to kick in. If it’s not the meds, then it’s the placebo effect hitting me, making me think I could probably walk on water at the moment and be fine. Yeah, I’m focused, but I’m also feeling a touch on the murderous side. “You better hope to God there’s someone in that elevator, because the moment Seth moves away from your body, I’m spraying you down with every bullet in my clip. One of you motherfuckers are gonna die today since your boss is a cowardly SOB.”
Powerhouse grunts beside me, no doubt wanting me to shut up, but it’s like I can’t stop myself once I get started. I stalk towards the men, a panther on the prowl, just waiting for the first opportunity to leap and slaughter them both. “Stay back!” one guy shouts, his voice sounding a bit shakier than before. Pussy.
“You’re all gonna die,” I sing the words, really trying to fuck with them. I’m feeling like a million bucks, and I want them to know it, to fear my confidence.
“Shut up! We’ll kill him. We’ll do it!” the other man threatens, shoving his gun into Seth’s head. Thankfully, he’s smart enough not use the trigger. I think they both realize Seth is the only thing protecting them from me turning into a fucking savage at this point.
“Where’s your pussy ass boss? He’s a fucking bitch, and my brother wants to kill him.”
Their attention is drawn away with Powerhouse’s question and I concentrate on keeping them in my sights. I wasn’t lying when I said I’d be shooting as soon as Seth is out of the way. “I can’t tell you that, pendejo .” They hit a spot on the wall and the elevator begins to slide open. I’m already aiming, waiting for a group of armed, crazy fuckers to jump out.
Surprisingly, it’s empty. Not what I was expecting at all.
“For being the cartel, you sure are some dumb fuckers,” Powerhouse comments, shaking his head. He’s serious, his expression stoic as he allows the pendejo insult to roll right off of him. These fuckers have no idea he’s used to the insults and shit talking from all the fights he’s been in. He’s the most relaxed, yet calculated brother, always assessing the best way to hurt someone who may threaten his safety.
Seth whimpers as he’s shoved harshly from behind. He falls to the floor, rolling to the side, and I rain bullets. The doors close faster than any fucking elevator I’ve ever rode in before, making me scowl. “Goddamn it. I wanted those fuckers to die.”
“Bloodthirsty? Since when? You’re one of the most chill dudes I’ve ridden with. Besides, you probably poked a few holes in them with all those bullets.”
“Bro, I already wanted to kill these crazy fuckers for threatening Lacey, but that pill you gave me made me want to string them up and watch them bleed out too.”
He curses as we rush to Seth, both working to free him of the tape, ropes, gag, and blindfold. When he finally meets my eyes, I can’t believe I recognized him. I was too distracted to take his features in. He’s been beaten, badly.
“It’s me, buddy, I got you.”
His bloodshot eye meets mine, instantly watering. The other is swollen shut and discolored. He begins to sob as he whimpers my name, “A-Asher? Tell me this is real life and you’re here. Am I making you up?”
“I’m here under this mask, Seth, just wearing this to cover my face from witnesses. We’re going home.”
“I-I can’t walk. They’ve broken my ankle so I couldn’t escape. My ribs,” he attempts to carry on but can’t. They’ve fucked him up and we have no idea to what extent. His front teeth are missing, just nasty raw, beat-up skin in their place and it takes everything in me not to freak the fuck out and react. He always had one of those perfect, white smiles after years of braces and brightening treatments. I used to give him shit about it when we were teenagers, but it was something he was always proud of. His smile.
My chest squeezes at the sight of him. He’s the last person in the world to deserve this. The fuckers who did this need to pay. I hope it was those two on the couch and I landed some shots, although I’d have preferred to torture them slowly so they could feel Seth’s pain and more.
Grabbing the closest drink I see; I lift it to his lips and have him take a few sips. He can’t do much, he’s in so much discomfort. I pour the gold liquor into his mouth, hoping like hell it’s tequila to kill away some of the lingering agony he’s no doubt experiencing, but I know it won’t be nearly enough. I should’ve brought pain pills with me, but it was the last thing on my mind when I left the club.
“We don’t have time for this,” House points out and I shoot him a glower.
“Then what do you suggest? He needs it and he can barely walk.”
“I’ll carry him out if you can cover us.”
“You got it, no one will get so much as a step in our way, or I’ll light them the fuck up.”
With a stern nod, he leans down, placing his arms underneath Seth to carry him princess style. “Try to hold on to me; this will probably hurt because we have to move fast. The cops could show up anytime.”
Seth doesn’t respond, just stares at him with a pitiful look and winces, crying out when my brother lifts him. He’s strong and fucking monster sized so he doesn’t skip a beat carrying around another grown man like he’s a big bag of flour.
“Alright, fuckers, let’s get the hell out of here,” I mutter, no longer blood thirsty, just eager to get Seth home and some help as soon as possible. There’s more than a broken ankle, the way he’s hunched over, I’d say his shoulders fucked, probably his ribs with the way he shrieked when those assholes tossed him down and he bent over, a few of his fingers were bent at weird angles and one of his hands was limp like his wrist is spent. My poor friend and when my woman sees him she’d going to completely lose it. The truth of the matter is, I don’t want her to witness him like this. I honestly don’t think she can handle it.
Leaving the glass room behind, I check around us before darting back the way we came. My senses get overwhelmed going from the quieter room to the loudness again and flashing lights along the roof. I take a deep inhale, centering myself, as I can’t allow myself to fuck this up.
The coast is clear, so I wave them to follow. The stairs come into sight and just when I think we’re going to get out of here scot-free, two men rush to the top. They’ve got guns in each of their hands, and they raise the four weapons, pointing them at us like they’re in a fucking shoot-out or some dumb movie shit. Pointing them is all they manage as I’m in hyper-focus mode and spray them down with my AK-47. They don’t have a chance against me protecting my friends. They’ve already done too much as far as I’m concerned, and they deserve to meet the reaper.
Glancing back, I make sure nothing is coming at us from behind, but we’re in the all-clear. Seth’s eye is as wide as it can be considering his face is swollen and fucked up. I can imagine he’s shocked to his core at watching me kill someone so easily, but that’s something we’ll have to deal with at a later time.
I have a feeling the owners of this torture house night club are watching the action unfold from the comfort of their couches. I wish they’d been stupid enough to be here and I was truly hoping we’d be able to catch them since they didn’t know when or how we’d be coming in. They probably thought I’d show up and not know what to do with a club full of people, and then their men would easily pick me off. The jokes on them, because I didn’t come alone, nor ill-prepared.
I hit the stairs going down at a swift pace, my gaze trained everywhere all at once as Powerhouse jostles Seth the entire way, making him cry out in pain over and over. It only serves to infuriate me more. We make it downstairs in no time, coming face to face with a group of men I don’t recognize. They aren’t wearing cop gear, and they’re far too put together to be scared patrons, so I fill them with bullets before they have the chance to do the same to us.
Angel and Prez burst out of the stairwell that leads downstairs. Angel’s absolutely soaked in blood, with every inch of his skin showing splattered in crimson. He’s carrying an unconscious woman. I can’t help but wonder what the fuck went on in the short time we were separated, considering nothing was mentioned on our comms.
Prez has a kid clutching to his back, giving him a piggyback ride while strapped with his weapon at the ready. It looks like something serious enough had to happen for them to bring their own set of stragglers to safety.
Wrench and Lunatic come flying out of the back hallway with the other offices. Lunatic has blood all over his shoulder, but something tells me they didn’t get as lucky as Angel, because I know none of the blood covering his psycho ass belongs to him.
“You alright?” Prez barks, gesturing to the bloody mess.
Lunatic nods, wincing, while Wrench scans the place. “I may be shot, but the other guy’s dead.”
“We gotta go, boys,” Wrench mentions, walking with his back to us, so we can head for the door while he covers us. “Out the same way we came in. Easy in and easy out,” he reminds us of our original plan. We have to get back to Blow and get the fuck out of here before we’re busted and sent to prison.
“You good to drive, or you need me to?” I ask Wrench, not knowing what exactly happened, aside from what appears to be Lunatic getting shot at least once.
“I’m driving,” Powerhouse argues, and he’s the SAA so we pretty much do whatever the fuck him or Angel says in these situations.
Seth groans, his head drooping to the side, and I scan the smoker’s patio for another cup as soon as we’re outside. I’m in luck as there’s a half drunken bottle of water sitting on one of the outdoor tables. I grab it, twist open the top and lean over to offer a sip to Seth. I’m afraid they gave him no food or water since he’s been gone and his body won’t be able to help him fight off his injuries on his own. Seth manages to take three sips, then Angel’s barking at us to get the fuck out of there. We listen and take off running the best we can, loaded down with the three new additions to our group.
The alley we got our access through is empty and quiet. In normal circumstances I’d be skeptical that there wasn’t someone waiting out here to slaughter us the moment we step into the shadows but Blow and the prospects have been watching out for us, so I know we’re safer out here than we were inside.
We make it to the rented vehicles we picked up this morning, everyone helping get the two injured and kid inside. The brat goes absolutely feral and won’t leave Prez’s arms, so he ends up on his lap. I’d say he’s maybe eight or so? But who knows, I’m not familiar with kids, so I could be way off. Wrench takes the passenger spot, while Lunatic sits next to Prez in the second-row seating, and the other prospects hop in the third row, while Blow remains in the driver’s seat.
Angel won’t let go of the woman, so he slides into the back of the second SUV. We stick Seth next to them, while I climb in the passenger side, and Powerhouse jumps behind the wheel. I’m glad we ended up getting these huge ass cages or all of us never would’ve fit and we’d have made the prospects walk until one of us could swing through and pick their asses up later. It’s bad enough Prez and our VP are riding together in the same vehicle with a few of our prospects when his protection is in the vehicle with me. We need to get somewhere to change spots, have Powerhouse and Angel ride with Prez and Blow in here before someone can get the drop on our two leaders and really fuck our club dynamics up.
“The hell happen to you, Angel? I’m guessing that blood isn’t yours,” I ask, glancing at them in the seat behind me. He has the woman cradled to his chest; his nose buried in her hair like a fucking stalker, sniffing the matted oily strands.
“We found them locked up.”
“Who?”
“Her and the kid, and others.”
“You didn’t free the others?”
“Cops are on their way; they’ll be freed within the next ten minutes,” he reasons, but it only makes me wonder why they kept those two when he left the others behind.
“So, it’s not your blood?”
He glares, but I ignore it. I’m used to his brooding ass, so it doesn’t faze me. “Not my blood. She begged me, told me the man had been raping her.” My brows raise and he continues, “So I raped him in front of her. With my knife .”
“Oh shit,” I mutter, Seth whimpers, and House draws in a swift breath. Angel couldn’t hear it, but I did.
“Is that why she’s unconscious?”
He nods. “She’ll come around. Little bird was just worn out and needed some rest.”
I cast a side glance at my brother. His gaze may be pegged on the road in front of him, but I know he’s thinking the same thing I am.
That woman’s never leaving Angel’s sight again.