Chapter 49
Soren
As of right now, the deal’s done. The mission is almost complete.
The only thing left to do is the handover to O.
My stomach tightens at the thought of what lies ahead of me.
Not the delivery to O—nah, that’s the easy part.
It’s the goodbye to the only woman I’ve ever loved that has me tripping out.
I’ve decided I’ll tell her. I’ve got nothing to lose.
Because not telling her I’m head over heels, deep in love with her?
I’d rather die than live with that regret.
Goddammit, I think I’ve grown as a man. Evolved or whatever.
Carson’s phone rings, snapping me out of my thoughts. He ignores the call, and leans forward, handing me a glass of straight scotch. Then it rings again.
And again.
A sense of dread washes over me. Something’s happened. I know this because my gut, or soul, or whatever the fuck I’m made of is dialed in to turmoil.
“You gonna answer that?” I ask.
Carson glances at the screen, eyebrows folding and a frown forming.
“This better be important,” Carson snaps to the caller on the other end.
His expression quickly morphs from annoyance to fury. Then, he launches into rapid-fire questions.
“When?”
“How the fuck did they get in?”
“How much damage?”
“What girl?”
Carson’s eyes find mine, and the way his eyes round, twists me up in the most devastating way. I already know this is about Raine.
“How many were there?” Carson asks.
“What’s going on?” I demand.
Carson raises his hand to me, effectively telling me to shut the fuck up, which I don’t appreciate, and won’t tolerate. I stand and throw my glass of scotch across the room, the tumbler shattering into a million pieces.
That sure as shit got his attention.
Carson’s jaw locks as the voice on the other end keeps talking. “Pull the footage from every angle, including the basement and every goddamn exit. Find out where they’ve taken her. I’m so goddamn sick of these cunts!”
Carson ends the call and levels me with an expression that looks a lot like trepidation.
“It’s about Angel, isn’t it?”
Carson nods once. “It’s about Angel.”
My heartbeat detonates in my chest as I squeeze my eyes shut. “Just say it.”
“She’s been taken.”
I swallow the bile that creeps up my throat. It burns as I swallow it back down. “By who?”
“Men wearing Raptors cuts.”
My vision tunnels and I see fucking red.
Didn’t we end those outlaw cunts?
Fuck. I realize it in a split second, and it’s a fist to the throat.
How could I be so fucking stupid?
Raptors' are a goddamn national gang. Another chapter has come for her. Of course they’d come for her; she removed her ski mask in front of a surveillance camera and taunted the pricks by flipping them off. She put her face out there for all to see.
I place my hands on Carson’s desk. “Show me the footage.”
He hesitates, eyes narrowing, probably questioning why the hell Lukas Klein cares so much about a girl who works in his club. He’s starting to see me for who I really am.
And I don’t give a fuck.
“Do you know why these men keep causing trouble at my club?”
I suck in a deep breath and nod once. “Unfortunately.”
The tension in the room crackles, like it's alive. Carson stands. “Follow me.”
***
Carson drags me down three sets of stairs and into a windowless room.
The basement maybe. Rows and rows of screens line the walls, each with a different vantage point of the Golden Claw.
Carson’s own private surveillance hub. His personal security stares at me like I’m a wanted criminal, clearly uncomfortable with my presence in Carson’s private residence.
“Show him the footage,” Carson commands.
The man sitting in front of the control panel presses a few buttons. The main screen in the middle flickers, and there she is. Multiple angles capture my worst fucking nightmare. I watch as she’s surrounded, outnumbered, and beaten.
My heart is in my mouth, and I bite the inside of my gum so hard I draw blood.
Her eyes are wild and furious … but not broken. They drag her off the floor and into the elevator, but not before she yells or mouths something to someone.
“Rewind and zoom in on her. She says something here?”
Carson's lackey does what I ask. The screen enlarges her face, and what she says is clear as day. “Lukas.” She mouthed it to one of the other girls, taking cover in a booth.
Lukas.
Me.
She called for me.
"Rewind it. Play it again." I demand.
Carson watches me out of the corner of his eye. “Why is she asking for you?”
I raise my eyes. He’s suspicious as hell and bristling with anger.
“Lukas?” He tilts his head. “Don’t make me ask you twice.”
I barely hear him. All I see is Raine being thrown around like a rag doll and beaten within an inch of her life.
Carson steps in front of me, studying me. “She’s not who she says she is, is she?”
“And if she’s not who she says she is …” Carson’s chin raises. “Then you’re not who you say you are.”
“So.” Carson bundles his hands in front of him. “Just who in the fuck are you?”
I feel Carson’s security tense at the question, readying themselves for possible conflict. I can't afford to lose anymore precious time.
“Help me find her, and I’ll tell you everything.”
Carson squints, weighing up whether to trust me, to take me at my word.
Finally, he nods. He’s not completely satisfied; I can see the questions bubbling at his lips, but it is what it is.
Carson seems to understand this, too. He is a smart man, and let’s not forget, I’ve recently wired 250 million to him, which makes me a very nice friend to have.
And one he sort of needs to trust if he wants to keep his money.
Carson inhales a deep breath and nods to his team. “Find the route they used and get ready to go. They won’t be far ahead of us. Pull their plates, traffic cams. All of it.”
The room empties out as Carson’s team scurries to get what he’s asked for.
“I need to stop by my apartment.”
“What for?”
“Weapons.”
“Not necessary.” Carson nods behind me. I turn towards a black metal cabinet bolted into the opposite wall of security screens. Carson moves to unlatch the giant cabinet to reveal a smorgasbord of firearms, blades, knives, swords, nunchucks, and even goddamn ninja stars.
“Take what you need,” Carson instructs as he grabs a set of keys hanging from a hook near the door. “And let’s go.”
I move, grabbing two guns and four knives. Fuck it, I’ll grab a pair of ninja stars too. As I load and strap the weapons to my body, Carson watches me.
“You’re not a weapons dealer. Are you?”
I glance over my shoulder at him, but don’t stop what I’m doing. “Weapons expert.”
It’s not a lie; I am. But it’s still only half the truth.
Carson knows this is leverage for him. When this is over—and providing Raine and I both survive this—I’ll owe him one.
Carson doesn’t do shit out of the goodness of his heart.
He’s self-serving. And right now, I’m okay with that. As long as he helps me find her.
And once I find her, I’m going to kill every last motherfucker who put their hands on my girl.