Chapter 38
Thirty-Eight
Ledger
It’s the longest fucking night of my life.
Where the fuck is Blair?
What happened at Santiago’s house?
More importantly, how did Anchor let this happen? He’s good at covering his tracks and hiding—this should have never happened. Anchor is the world’s best hitman and that’s because he’s incredibly cautious. There’s no way he didn’t know they were about to be ambushed.
Something went wrong, but what?
And where they fuck is my goddaughter and best friend?
Guilt gnaws at my conscience.
If anything’s happened to them, it’s on me… I put the initial hit out. It doesn’t matter that others became involved—none of the danger looming over everyone’s head would even be here if it wasn’t for my decision to pull the trigger and set things in motion.
Despite my best intentions of giving Blair a bright future, somehow, I’ve set all of ours ablaze.
This has to come to an end soon.
By the time the sky begins to lighten, we still haven’t heard from Blair or Anchor.
Santi is tapping away at his computer, his eyes red from staring at it for hours.
Behind him, Rhett paces. He’s been moving non-stop—just as long as Santi’s been working.
It’s not healthy for either of them but it’s not like I’m doing any better.
Because while Santi works on breaking into the city’s street cameras, I’m prepping.
Guns, boxes upon boxes of ammo, knives of various sizes, two crossbows, eight grenades, a blow torch, padlock cutters, ropes, an extensive first aid kit, and a shovel are all laid out on the family room floor.
Anything we could possibly need, I have it. With a basement full of weapons, we should be ready for nearly anything. By the time I’m done bringing everything up from the basement we’re still at a standstill.
Wes doesn’t bother making breakfast or ordering the others to try to get some sleep. He’s just as anxious as we are to find Blair. There’s no settling down until she’s back with us.
Just as I change into a clean outfit, the alarm on someone’s phone begins to blare. Then another phone goes off.
“We got company in the woods!” Wes bellows up the stairs.
Fuck.
I rush out of my room and down the stairs. My first stop is in the family room where I scoop up a rifle, a box of ammo, and a pistol. Then I head to the kitchen where I find the others on their feet and tense.
“How many and where?”
Santi is frowning as he stares down at his phone. “I… I don’t know? The alarm went off south of here, but the cameras aren’t catching any other movement. Maybe it was a false alarm.”
“Like hell it was a false alarm,” Wes snaps.
He checks his pistol’s clip then closes it before looking up at me. “I say we take the ATVs out to investigate.”
I nod. The ATVs will be the fastest way to get across the property. Trying to get there on foot may be stealthier but right now, time is not on our side. Not with Anchor and Blair missing and trouble in Caddawalk.
“Rhett, Santi—” I start but am cut off by Rhett.
“Santi will keep working and I’ll keep my eyes on the other cameras,” he snaps. “Go!”
Wes and I don’t need any more encouragement. We burst out of the house, race down the porch steps, and rush over to the large shed off the side of the cabin. Minutes later, we’re roaring through the woods on ATVs.
It takes time to get to where the alert went off, too much time for my liking. As we approach the site, we both slow. I scan the area, looking for signs of trouble while Wes checks the camera feeds from his phone. Waiting with bated breath, I don’t stop my visual inspection of my property.
There’s no movement, no sound either.
That means nothing, though. Whoever tripped the alarm could be good enough to be conscious of such things.
Plus, with the roar of the ATVs, anyone could’ve heard us coming and hid.
It was a risk riding them, but I would rather bring the fight to them rather than whoever it is out here bring the fight to the cabin.
I’m about to keep going but just as I get ready to rev the throttle I hear a call.
It’s a sparrow’s song but sung fucking poorly.
My head jerks to the left.
“Anchor!” I bellow.
Wes flinches in surprise and looks up just as the shitty sparrow mimic stops abruptly.
“Over here!”
I’m off my ATV and sprinting toward the sound of his voice instantly.
I jump over logs, duck under branches and fly over fallen leaves.
My heart thunders in my chest as I run. What the fuck is going on?
Why isn’t he in sight of the cameras? Why didn’t he just show up at the cabin like he has the past few days?
Where have he and Blair been and what took them so long to get here?
A thousand questions swim around in my head, but I don’t really give a fuck about getting answers. All that matters is that they’re here now.
“Anchor!”
“I’m here!” He calls out again, his voice strained.
With my heart leaping up into my throat, I shift direction. As I round a large boulder protruding out of the ground, I find my friend.
My feet skid to a halt.
My heart follows suit.
Leaning against the hard rock and breathing hard, sits Anchor.
His legs are sprawled out in front of him, one ankle bent at a wretched angle.
Anchor’s shirt is ripped and bloody, his lip split and his shoulder is definitely dislocated.
Wheezing hard and wincing, Anchor manages to lift his head to glare at me.
“About fucking time, asshole,” he growls out.
I stare down at my friend in horror. “What in the holy fuck, Anchor?”
I shuffle closer before I drop to my knees beside him. I don’t even know where to look first or what to do to help him. There’s just so much fucking damage. “We need to get you to a hospital, Anchor. You’re really beat the fuck up this time.”
Anchor scoffs. “I don’t need a hospital. I need you to jerk my shoulder and ankle back into place, stitch me up, and to help me get my fucking daughter back.”
He might as well have shot me point blank in the chest given the pain and panic that erupts right in the middle of it. The world drops away from beneath and if I wasn’t already on my knees, I’d have fallen to them. As it is, I have to reach a hand down to press into the soil to steady myself.
I look away from Anchor, my eyes searching the woods.
“Ledger! Did you not fucking hear me? I need you to—”
“Blair’s… she’s not with you?” I ask breathlessly, needing to be absolutely sure I heard him correctly.
Anchor doesn’t respond.
When I force myself to look back into his face, he can’t meet my eyes. The lack of an answer is enough for me. Slowly, I rise from my crouch and take a step back from my friend.
Never, not in a million years, would I have thought that there would be a time that Anchor would leave his daughter behind.
She is his everything. Yes, he may have tried to kill her over the years, but I know it was never malicious despite my taunts in the woods a few nights ago.
He only wanted to protect her from his enemies.
From this very scenario.
The grim expression on Anchor’s face glitches. For a second, he looks terrified. The expression morphs back into grim determination too swiftly for me to be sure though.
“Dixie has her,” Anchor admits, his voice strained. “He took her from me, Ledger.”
I open my mouth to ask how but the roar of an ATV sounds and a moment later, Wes pulls his all-terrain vehicle around to where the two of us are. He takes one look at Anchor and he’s climbing off the ATV and hurrying over to us.
“Shit, let’s get you on this thing and back to the cabin,” he says, already in fix-it mode. “Where’s Blair? Did she help you get this far—”
“She’s not fucking here!” I roar, unable to control the panic and anger.
Wes tenses, looking from me to Anchor.
“This is none of your concern,” Anchor hisses at him.
I gape at my best friend’s audacity. Wes slowly crouches down in front of Anchor so that they’re eye level. His hands shoot out and he grabs the front of Anchor’s shirt and jerks him forward so that they’re nose-to-nose. Anchor hisses in pain, his bad arm jostled hard.
“Blair is my only concern, got it?” Wes snaps. “Given the mess we saw at Santi’s house, I have a feeling you’re going to need all the help you can get. Especially in your current state.”
“I can—”
The roar that erupts past my lips causes birds to take flight overhead. Stepping up, I glare down at Anchor.
“Fuck your pride, Anchor! Wes is right, we’ll need him and the others.”
Wes lets go of Anchor to stand up.
Stomping up to Anchor’s side, I crouch down, hook my arm around my best friend’s waist and throw his good arm around my shoulder to lift him. As I force Anchor to his feet, I add, “You will tell us what fucking happened when we get back to the cabin. From there, we’ll get my fucking godchild back.”
“They came at us hard and fast. I don’t know how they found us,” Anchor explains through gritted teeth as I stitch his side up. “There were about fifteen men that left the house from what I could see from the bushes.”
“Stop moving,” I snap as he flinches.
Anchor glares at me but goes still as he sits on the edge of the island.
The bullet wound, a deep graze across his abdomen, is the last to be patched up. His ankle is wrapped tight and his shoulder has been popped back into its socket. Despite being tended to, he’s not breathing any easier.
“Dixie must’ve put a tracker in his wife or kid,” Anchor goes on. “That’s the only explanation I can think of given that I patted them down for any type of devices that could’ve been tracked.”
I finish up his stitches and toss the needle into the trash.
“Blair must’ve freed the hostages,” I tell him. “Police told us that there was a woman and kid running down the street calling for help.”
Anchor swears violently.
“Hey,” Santi snaps. “She did the right thing!”
“She got rid of our leverage—”