Chapter Eleven
Two weeks later…
C row sat sipping hot coffee from a paper cup inside the SUV he’d borrowed from Dave.
He sat in a modest neighborhood on a darkened street watching cars and people come and go into the drug house down the block.
He sighed and took another swallow from the cup.
The past fourteen days had been a fucking bitch, to say the least, but after two weeks of further searching for Rebel and doing a lot of soul searching himself, Crow had a different mindset.
Who the fuck were they to tell Rebel how to live his life?
Rebel had been right—according to law, the young man was an adult.
Sometimes people had to learn from their own mistakes and as far as Crow could see, Rebel’s mistakes weren’t that detrimental.
He hadn’t killed any innocent people.
Savage had made it seem like Rebel had been out here killing with no remorse.
And that just wasn’t the case. There was no trail of bodies, no warrants for Rebel’s arrest. In fact, after leaving Erebus, Rebel had basically been staying low-key.
The only episode was that of his mother and her boyfriend.
If, and that was a big if, Rebel was out there killing people, then Crow would bet money that the guy was taking out bad people.
He didn’t know for a fact, but he trusted his gut and right now, his gut was telling him that Rebel was good.
Crow shifted inside the SUV and shoved away his distraction and once again zeroed in on the house down the block. When another car pulled up, a sketchy looking guy got out and hurried to the door. It was a constant in and out as they picked up their drugs.
But Crow wasn’t here for drugs or any of the users coming and going.
Word on the streets was that Crime Boss Jimmy Lincoln had picked up a new gun for hire a few weeks ago.
The informant Crow had found told him that the new hire looked way too skinny for the job, but after only a few hours, the new guy had gained Jimmy’s trust.
Crow figured it had to be Rebel.
If it wasn’t? Then he would go back to searching on the dark web. If nothing panned out, then he would be out of options. And if he ran out of options, he was going to need to call in the team to help him.
No, he nixed that idea. That was the last fucking thing he would do.
He would not be defeated by a teenager, damn it.
Sure, Rebel was somewhat skilled from the training forced upon him by Solomon and Tanis, but Rebel was still young.
Up against a trained soldier, Rebel wouldn’t stand a chance.
Crow had gone lightly on the man during their altercations, knowing that one wrong move could have killed him.
Yeah…okay…you’re a trained soldier…that was why Rebel got the drop on you in the hotel and in the flood control , Crow silently scoffed.
The only reason Rebel had gotten the drop on him was because the guy had used sex. Both times! Well, that wasn’t technically true…maybe in the hotel Rebel had used it, but in the tunnel, it had all been his own dick doing the thinking.
It had only taken seconds for Rebel to get him thinking with his smaller head.
And there were reasons for that.
Crow had lied.
It hadn’t been true when he said Rebel wasn’t his type. Of course, that didn’t matter though.
Rebel was off-limits.
Period.
No excuses whatsoever. So, his cock needed to settle the fuck down.
Crow grimaced and shot back the rest of the coffee in his cup and then picked up the second cup he’d purchased at the drive-thru. There didn’t seem to be enough coffee to shake off the memories of that slender body against his on the bed and in the tunnel.
Fuck, he needed to get laid.
When the traffic coming and going died down, Crow slid out of his seat, quietly shut the door, and melted into the night. It took him only a few minutes to gain access to the backyard and from there to the back door.
A kitchen lay beyond the door with two men and a few women sitting around it. Lines of cocaine or crystal meth covered a broken mirror and rolled up dollar bills lay on the table. Half empty bottles of beer and an unfinished pint of whiskey littered the table’s surface.
This wasn’t Jimmy Lincoln’s address, but Crow figured one of the people inside would know it. Pulling his mask down to cover his face, he slid his nine-millimeter semi-automatic pistol from the back of his pants and kicked in the back door.
The splintering of wood sent one of the men toppling backward from his chair.
Crow advanced into the room with his gun pointed at one man’s head. When the two girls made to run, Crow swung the gun at them.
“Sit the fuck back down.”
The two women sank back into their chairs.
“Hey man, we don’t have no money.” The guy who spoke got all of his attention. With greasy blond hair and pockmarks on his face, the guy looked like warmed-up shit.
“Is this your house?” Crow swung the gun on the man.
The greasy blond guy nodded.
“What’s your name?” Crow said, advancing on him.
“It’s Tony,” the guy gulped.
“Okay, Tony, I’m going to ask you guys some questions. If you give me the right answers everyone goes home tonight. But if you don’t…” Crow jiggled the gun in his hand, letting the words trail off.
“W, w, what kind of questions?” Tony said.
Crow flipped one of the chairs around and straddled it, facing the group.
“About your boss.”