Chapter 49
FORTY-NINE
MASE
Owen explained that Hugh does indeed know something. In fact, the old bastard knows everything. So much so, he currently has my girl holed up at an abandoned apartment building on the other side of town.
Travis tipped the guys off this morning when he came to the mansion to alert me to the fact that Summer had him take her to the bank this morning to withdraw a huge lump sum before having him drop her off in town. Turns out, Travis knew about the blackmail all along.
Owen collected Travis from the mansion and drove him over to Reed’s rental, where they were waiting for news of her location before they planned to wake me, or so he told me.
I wouldn’t be surprised if the fucker hadn’t planned on collecting Summer himself and having her back in bed with me before I even woke.
“Was gonna make sure she was back with you before you woke. Then just have whoever was involved delivered to Luca’s basement for you to deal with,” Owen states, confirming my suspicions, and I sneer back at him.
My muscles are coiled rigid and my fists clenched with adrenaline.
I want these fuckers dead, Tara included.
I want to start my new life with no threats made against us and our little family, and there’s only one way to ensure it.
We turn into a sketchy parking lot next to the derelict apartments, and I scan the area all the way up to the third floor. “You sure he’s up there?”
Owen assesses the building opposite, and I realize he has someone watching the apartment. “Absolutely,” he confirms, then leans into the back seat and pulls a duffel bag onto his lap and unzips it. “Take your pick.”
An arsenal of weapons has my eyes lighting up like the Fourth of July. “Fucking, yes.” I grin back at my friend.
“Use the silencers.”
I nod and screw the silencer on my Glock. “What’s the plan?”
“He’s not working alone.” He glowers at me, and I swallow past the knot forming in my throat.
My girl is in serious danger. “Appears he has a son living in there.” He hoists his thumb over his shoulder toward the building.
I know he has a kid, but I never thought any more of it.
Now I’m kicking myself. All the warning signs have been there, and I’ve not pushed further to delve into any of them.
“Bunch of thugs who need dealing with,” Owen states.
By dealing with, he means taking out, and I’m only too happy to oblige, desperate to burn off some of my raging anger and frustration.
Not to mention, my growing concern for Summer and our babies.
Rolling my neck to ease the tension, I quickly tuck that thought aside, knowing I need to keep my head in the game.
“We have backup.” Owen is quick to tack on as if preempting my spiraling thoughts.
My throat is dry, and a strange sound leaves me when I’m unable to construct the right words.
He gives my shoulders a tight squeeze. “We’ve got this, man; we’ll get them out of there unharmed.” The confidence in his tone has me nodding robotically.
I just hope he’s right.