Chapter 21
Cunningham.
We knew who it was the second we realized what was happening, but our people confirmed it five minutes later when we went into full war-mode. Motherfucking Cunningham had taken her.
The gun clicked in my hand as I chambered a round and clicked on the safety.
I thought I’d hated him before. I thought I’d hated him more than I could hate anything for what he’d done to Amy.
And then this happened.
Then he’d come and torn our hearts out all over again, by snatching the one woman we’d ever thought of in that way. Men like us? Well, we’d given up on the idea of feeling the L word a long time ago. We figured we were too broken, too far gone, too dark for a word like love.
And then we’d met Mia, and everything we’d known had changed in a second. In one single goddamn second, the construct we’d built around the place in our chests where hearts should have been went shattering to pieces. Because in that one single second, we knew we’d been wrong.
Because it took one second for all three of us to fall in love with Mia Thorne.
…And Ryan Cunningham needed only one second more to take her away.
I slammed the gun down and grabbed a second, shoving the cartridge in with a sharp snapping sound.
Cunningham had officially fucked with the wrong guys.
He didn’t know about Amy — well, at least didn’t know our connection to her. That’d been part of our goal with getting back into the scene at the Auction House, in order to get close to him so we could take him out. But he knew about Mia alright.
And he’s just hit our breaking point, whether he knew it or not. This was it — this was the line that snapped us over the edge.
The plan to take him out was a long-term one, and there were a few months left before we’d planned our final move. But now? Well, now Cunningham had moved that deadline up.
Considerably.
Because today was the day we acted.
Today was the day he died.
They’d fucked with the wrong guys. For one, because we were past caring now. But for two?
I smiled grimly.
Well, for two, because we dealt fucking guns for a living.
I glanced around the stockade — what we called the subterranean network of supply rooms, barracks, and garages that we’d built beneath the mansion. I could almost laugh. Yeah, bad fucking move, Ryan. The place was a literal fucking arsenal that rivaled the armies of most small counties.
And now we were locked, loaded, and ready to go.
“Oliver.”
I glanced up to see Erik looking grim as he slung a shotgun over his back. “Helicopter inbound. Let’s go do this.”
“Let’s go get our girl back,” Ash growled, strapping a wicked-looking knife to his leg.
I nodded.
Because we would get her back.
And then we’d kill every single one of the bastards that took her.