Chapter 4 – Billy
BILLY
Dawn hasn’t even broken when they start loading up the trucks. Leon barks orders while Dave hustles weapons into duffel bags. They’re not even trying to be subtle anymore. The attack on the Alpha Conference will be a declaration of war, not just a show of force.
There’ll be no going back to running the bar and trying to avoid my father’s more elaborate, and illegal, money-making enterprises after this.
Marcus is right. He’s escalating. Whatever he’s up to, this looks big. And I want no part of it.
I keep my head down, passing out coffee, playing the dutiful son while my insides twist with anticipation.
Only three men will stay behind to guard the compound.
One of them, Pete, is sympathetic to me.
He’s another bear forced to stay here by the cold, hard reality of his situation, not through any love for my father. The other two are loyal to the bone.
“Remember,” Leon says, gripping my shoulder hard enough to bruise. “Stay right fucking here. If I tell you to bring her to me, you do, but other than that, she stays in that basement, no matter what.”
I nod, the picture of obedience. “I know. We’ve been over this already.”
“Watch yourself, son,” Leon adds, his voice dropping. He gives me a sharp look but doesn’t react to my insolence as he usually would, more concerned with getting on the road as soon as he can.
My bear snarls, his anger at Carla’s situation growing stronger by the hour, but I keep my face blank. Just a few more minutes until they’re gone.
The convoy pulls out in a line of black trucks heading for the mountain pass that will take them to the conference grounds.
I stand in the yard, waving until they disappear around the bend.
Then slowly, with a tip of my head toward Pete who’s on patrol, I stroll back inside the bar like I haven’t got a care in the world.
Like this is any other day, and not the day that I screw my father over and leave my clan, and everything I’ve ever known, behind.
For what’s right. For her.
I wait another thirty minutes, making sure they’re not coming back for something forgotten.
At 6:15, I text Beau from the shitty burner phone he gave me that I’ve kept hidden in my boot.
They’re gone. Moving in 60.
His reply is instant.
In position. Watch your back.
Beau’s the only one I trust with this plan. The only one who can help me get Carla to safety. He left all this shit behind, working as a private investigator, normally on the right side of the moral equation, if not always operating strictly within the law.
Marcus has his job to worry about. Beau doesn’t give a shit about anything other than doing what’s right.
The prospect of pissing my father off is an added bonus.
Pete’s on the front porch when I leave again, a plate of toasted stale bread in one hand, and cloudy water in the other.
“Gonna check on our guest,” I tell him casually. “Bring her breakfast.”
He nods, not even looking up from his phone, but his nose twitches, and he winces, smelling how unappetising the meal she’s getting delivered is.
My heart pounds as I descend the basement stairs, food in one hand, keys in the other, phone hidden away safely.
“Room service,” I announce, trying to sound normal.
Carla sits on her cot, knees pulled to her chest. She looks worse today, her skin clammy, eyes too bright. When she sees me, she flinches back slightly and squirms.
“You okay?” I ask, setting the plate down, an uncomfortable feeling taking hold in my chest. If she’s sick, this is going to be so much harder.
Beau’s helping us, but it’s up to me to get here all the way to the meeting point. That’s by no means an easy feat. If she’s too weak to shift and run, it’ll be almost impossible.
“Fine.” The word comes out strained. “Just tired.”
Something’s off. She smells… different. My bear notices too, pushing forward curiously, scenting the air. Whatever it is gets lost behind the disgusting smell of this room, and the layer of grim coating her silky-smooth skin.
No time to figure it out now. If she’s unwell, she’ll just have to push through if she wants to live.
“Listen to me carefully,” I say, lowering my voice. “I’m getting you out. Now. But you need to do exactly what I say.”
She blinks at me, surprised. “What? Now?”
Suspicion flashes across her face when I nod, glancing over my shoulder to make sure nobody’s coming to check on us. My paranoia is sky high. If anyone figures out what I’m up to, my father will know immediately, and the consequences will be dire. For both of us.
She studies me, and I see the moment she decides to trust me. Not completely, but enough.
“What’s the plan?”
I lay it out quickly. How we’ll get past the guards patrolling the border, the path through the woods to the meeting point where Beau is waiting with a vehicle. It’s risky, but it’s the best I’ve got.
“There are three guards left,” I explain. “Pete’s working the bar. Eventually, he’ll get bored and go in for a drink. The other two patrol opposite ends of the property. We’ll have a ten-minute window to slip out the back and into the trees.”
She nods, taking it all in. “And if something goes wrong?”
My hesitation makes her frown. There’s no point in sugarcoating it. It won’t be pretty.
I hand her the phone and wrap her fingers around it.
“When I call and hang up after two rings, it’s time to move.”
She stares down at where I hold her hands in mine, and I hear her heartbeat quicken. She must be so scared, placing her faith in a man who shares the same blood as her captor.
“There’s a loose panel in the wall behind your bed,” I tell her, showing her where it’s hidden.
“Pry it open, and you’ll find a tunnel that leads to the surface just behind the house.
Run straight out until you find a stream.
I’ll meet you there, but if I don’t make it within half an hour, follow the current downstream.
It’ll take you to a small wooden bridge.
Beau should be there. He’ll take care of you. ”
Her eyes widen slightly. “Why wouldn’t you make it?”
I don’t answer that. I’ll need to hang back and make sure nobody realises she’s gone until she gets a head start. And make sure nobody gets the chance to tell my father what’s going on.
“Why would you risk this for me?” she asks again, and there’s genuine confusion in her voice.
I could tell her about the growing disgust I feel toward my father and his methods. About how I long to look at myself in the mirror and know I stood up for the right thing.
Both would be true.
But neither is the whole truth.
“I don’t know,” I admit finally. “I just know I have to.”
She holds my gaze for a long moment, then nods, a fragile trust forming between us.
“Be ready,” I tell her, pulling some more palatable protein bars out of my pocket and a packet of sweets. “Eat. You’ll need your strength. It’s a good distance.”
As I go to stand, her small hand touches my arm, and my breath catches as I get a shock of static electricity from the contact. “Thank you.”
With a nod, I head back upstairs, my bear restless with anticipation. The next part is tricky. I need to neutralize the two guards without raising suspicion. Without killing them, which would be simpler, but crosses a line I’m not willing to step over.
I need a distraction.
Pete’s still on the porch. Perfect.
“Got to check the perimeter. Dad’s orders. Want a beer before I head out?”
That gets his interest. Pete’s always been lazy. “Fine,” he says, following me inside, seizing any opportunity to get out of the heat. “But you better not tell anyone.”
I toss my head back and laugh. “You think I’m going to tell my Dad I’ve been giving you free beers?”
Pete grins and settles into a seat at the bar.
As he watches the door, I drop a sedative into the beer bottle, giving it a quick swirl before I slide it across the bar toward him, knowing the sedative will work quickly.
With a wink, I head out, leaving him to take his nap at the bar, then move toward the east side of the property, where Rory patrols.
He’s the easier of the two, not the brightest, and susceptible to distraction.
I find him exactly where I expect, smoking a cigarette by the old storage shed.
“Rory,” I call out, approaching him at speed, bending over to catch my breath. “I need you. Now.”
He eyes me warily. Everyone knows I’m not the type to ask for favors. “What’s up?”
I glance back over my shoulder and draw upon my genuine nervousness to look like a man who’s worried that he might have fucked up.
“Need you to check something for me in the bar. I found something under one of the tables. I’m not sure whether it’s a listening device or what, but I figured you might know.”
That gets his attention. “Shit. Does your dad know?”
“Fuck no,” I say. “I’m not bothering him unless I know for sure.”
“Fuck.” Rory narrows his eyes, dropping his cigarette and grinding it under his boot. “Fine. But if it is, your dad’s going to tear you a new one, you know that? And you’re taking my next night shift.”
If someone’s been listening in on the clan’s plans, whatever Dad’s up to could be in jeopardy, and Rory knows it. That’s the only thing serious enough to make him leave his post. He’s playing it cool, but I can see the panic in his eyes.
“Deal.”
We race back to the bar, where we find Pete slumped in a chair inside, out cold. Rory notices too, stopping short.
“What the hell?” He turns to me. “Call Leon…”
Before he can process what’s happening, I strike with a quick, precise blow to the temple that sends him crumpling to the floor. He’ll have a hell of a headache when he wakes up, but he’ll live.
Without pausing to consider what’s going to happen when my father figures out what I’ve done, I grab him under the arms and drag him down into the cellar, locking the door from the outside.
Before leaving the bar again, I call the phone that hopefully Carla is watching closely. I let it ring once, twice, and then disconnect.