Chapter 27 Cade
CADE
Rough hands spin me around. Samson is before me, a finger over his lips. I frown. “Wha—”
He smacks his hand over my mouth. My gaze flits over my brothers. They’re furious, but eerily silent. All of them.
Harley is beside Samson, scrawling a note on the back of the envelope bearing Ansel’s nickname for me.
The house is compromised. We need to leave.
I shrug Samson off and grab the pen from Harley. I scrawl back four simple words.
How do you know?
Harley clicks his tongue impatiently, snatching the pen back. Behind him, my brothers are gathering the papers from Ansel and grabbing weapons from various hiding places.
Ansel told us. It’s in the documents. House is compromised, possibly our phones too. Laptops are safe thanks to Neo.
A chill goes through me.
Harley isn’t done, his tongue poking out as he jots down more.
Umbra didn’t just threaten you. They threatened the family, plus they named Wyatt, Jackson, Jules, and Neo.
I don’t know if there’s any blood left in my face. No wonder Matthias sounded so panicked on the phone and Dalton took off out of here.
Just when I think things can’t get any worse, my phone vibrates.
I reach into my pocket with numb fingers. Please be Ansel. Please be safe.
It’s not Ansel.
UNKNOWN
Ansel failed us but we know you won’t. If you want to see your pretty boy again, come to this address alone in two hours.
An address appears that I recognize as being downtown.
I turn my screen to my brothers. The same relief I’m feeling is reflected on their faces.
The Umbra Syndicate might expect this to intimidate me, but they’ve just given up their location. They’re about to learn that there’s only one group calling the shots in St. Dismas.
And the Umbra Syndicate has managed to piss off every member of it.
Wylder nods toward the door before taking Neo’s hand. Neo jumps like he’s been startled, but lets Wylder tote him out.
When we get into the corridor, Harley peels off. He returns a moment later, an ashen Jules under his arm.
Then we file silently from the house. The place that’s been both our hell and our haven.
Only to become our downfall.
This is why Ansel didn’t tell me. This is why he felt as though he didn’t have a choice.
Because he knew our house had been compromised.
But why didn’t he just tell me in the alley outside the café? Or outside his house? Was someone watching us? Did Ansel know about it?
It’s not until we’re in the safe house fifteen minutes later that I get an answer.
None of us has spoken since leaving Wylder’s.
Not even when Dalton, Jackson, and Wyatt joined us, the latter going straight into Matthias’s arms. We take the time to sweep for bugs or cameras.
It’s only when we’re certain we’re safe that we finally speak.
“This is why Ansel broke up with you,” Samson says, throwing several pictures on the table. “They were targeting you personally.”
I frown as I pull the images closer. They’re all of Ansel and me out and about in St. Dismas. At the library. In restaurants. There’s even one from our tryst in the opera box.
When I find out who took that, I’m going to carve out their eyeballs. How fucking dare they capture such an intimate moment on film?
“So they were following us.” I don’t like it. The fact that I didn’t notice pisses me off to no end. “But that’s not reason enough for Ansel to hide this all from me.”
“Cade, you’re not looking properly,” Samson snaps, jabbing a big finger at one of the pictures. “Look closer.”
I peer down at it. When I see what Samson’s on about, the room tilts. “Is that a fucking sniper mark?”
“I’d assume so,” Wylder says tightly. “There’s one on you in every photo.”
“Remind me to retrain you on paying attention to your surroundings,” Samson grunts.
“We all need a reminder, apparently,” Harley says, sifting through more pages. More photos appear. Everyone in this room has been caught on camera.
Tiny red dots are hidden in every shot.
Neo makes a small distressed sound. “That’s why Ansel didn’t tell any of us. He knew you were being watched.”
“We all were,” Dalton says darkly. “Fuckers have been in our territory, stalking us, and none of us had any idea.”
“It has to be the fucking pipes, the plumbers,” Wylder murmurs. “How they managed that is fucking beyond me, but I’m going to fix this. And them. Take them apart slowly.”
Neo glances up at Wylder, his nostrils flaring before he turns away.
My gaze drifts to Jackson. The teenager is slouched against the wall beside Dalton, his jaw ticking as he stares at the photos. I follow his eyeline, expecting to see a shot of him.
But instead, I see one of Dalton in the gym, a red dot in the hollow of his throat.
“I can’t believe this,” I whisper. “Ansel’s been going through all of this alone.”
I understand why he didn’t tell me, but I don’t like it. I fucking hate that this bullshit syndicate took his voice from him. That he couldn’t let me protect him.
I’ll protect him now. I’m not going to let the Umbra Syndicate hurt him. I’m going to save Ansel, then protect him every fucking day going forward.
It’s that simple.
“He’s not alone now,” Wylder says succinctly. My heart swells as my brothers nod in agreement.
I knew they wouldn’t let me do this alone, but it still means so much to see them having my back, having Ansel’s back.
“He better not be,” Neo says darkly. “I don’t like violence, but I’m very pro you using it in this situation.”
I snort, heading for the gun cabinet. “Trust me, violence is the secondary MO in this situation.”
Neo’s brow crinkles. “What’s the first?”
“Getting Ansel safe, obviously.” I take out various weapons and armor and throw them to my brothers. Some are armed already, but we aren’t walking into this unprepared. “Once he’s secure, we’ll make them regret ever threatening Ansel.”
“And we’ll be sending a reminder about who truly runs St. Dismas,” Samson growls, snatching a machete and sheath from the cabinet.
My brothers and I strip off our shirts and don bulletproof vests. We strap weapons all over ourselves before getting dressed again. Wylder and Dalton even shrug back into their suit jackets, the image of suave businessmen.
It’s all armor in its own way. We’re all weapons, honed and crafted by our past. By our father.
May he rest in hell.
Now, I’m going to use all that knowledge he forced upon me to secure my future.
In the corner of the room, Matthias and Wyatt are having a heated argument. Normally, Matthias doesn’t do wet work. I’ve taken over his share of those jobs since Wyatt realized how much my brother hated it.
Tonight is different, though. Wyatt and Jackson were threatened. Someone had a gun trained on Matthias’s husband.
He’s not going to let that slide. This is personal for all of us.
That’s not what they are arguing about, though. No, Wyatt wants to come with us.
“I’m not the only one who was targeted,” Wyatt yells, jabbing a finger in Matthias’s chest. “They had a gun on you. On my baby fucking brother! I can’t let that go, Matt. I won’t.”
I know Matthias finds it as hard to say no to Wyatt as I do to Ansel. Like me though, he has his limits.
“No, Wy,” he says softly, catching his wrist and lifting his hand to his mouth. “I love you, but no. I’ve been trained for this. All of us have. You haven’t.”
“But—”
“But nothing.” Matthias kisses Wyatt lightly. “You’ll stay here with Jackson, Jules, and Neo. We won’t be able to focus if we know you’re in danger.”
Neo rolls his eyes. “Don’t think anyone will be that stressed or distracted if I’m there. Besides, I want a shot at these cunts. They messed with Ansel, and no one does that.”
Wylder clears his throat. He’s suddenly very interested in making sure his sleeves are correctly aligned with his cuffs.
Is he…
I have no idea what’s going on with him, but I have my own reasons for keeping Neo here. “That’s a hard no too, Neo. Ansel would skin me alive if I took you there.”
“He loves you too much to do that.”
“He does, but he loves you, too.” I clap Neo on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, I’ll get him out of there safely.”
“And make them pay.” Wyatt’s voice is full of venom. “All of them.”
I almost smile. His request is the same as Ansel’s and just as pointless.
The Firm will make them bleed and not request a single penny or favor in return.
It’s more than our duty.
It’s our honor. Our hearts.
There’s no line we won’t cross to protect those we love.
We finish arming ourselves, and I check the time and curse. “There’s still an hour left.”
Dalton smirks, twirling his dagger between his fingers. “I thought we were reminding them who calls the shots here?”
He’s right. Why the fuck am I doing as instructed?
I’ve never been good at that.
My gaze sweeps over my brothers. They’re armed to the teeth, focused, and pissed off.
Perfect.
I lift my chin. “Let’s go get my butterfly back.”