The Lovely Darkness (Donovans: Renegade #1)

Chapter 1

FABIAN “FURY” MATHIAS

“Contact!” Jam damn near cheered through the earpiece as the white SUV he and Cash were in, rammed into the back of the red Range Rover.

Half an hour ago, the Range Rover was parked outside of a row house.

Skola—one of our top chemists who looked more like a college student that preferred the debate club and anime over frat parties and hot ass sorority girls—was our eyes and ears inside.

The quarter of a million-dollar deal had gone down smoothly after Skola’s quality verification.

We had no doubt it was good product; Dey, or Deylin Gomez as stated on his passport, was a reputable plug.

Zayn had worked with him a couple times some years back before we shifted our focus from pills and coke to weed and weapons.

The minute everyone cleared out of the house going to their respective vehicles, Cash and Jam pulled out of their spot at the corner and followed the Range Rover.

KC waited ten minutes before following the route Cash relayed via the earpieces we all wore.

Now, the Range Rover was traveling east down a street riddled with abandoned houses on one side and an old industrial park on the other.

We hung back a bit from the two vehicles.

KC was in the driver’s seat of the black Yukon we rented after landing in Miami, and I was in the front passenger seat.

Rafe was in the backseat, quiet but focused.

He was ready for this. Had told me so six weeks ago when he showed up at my house and threatened to shoot Curly, my two-year-old Cane Corso.

The two of them had a love/hate relationship while my other two Corsos, Larry and Moe didn’t pay the man known on the streets as the Sleeper any attention.

They knew he was family and immediately left the room once they verified that he was the only visitor on the property.

Curly was an agitator and loved getting under Rafe’s skin.

I found it entertaining until that fool pulled his gun out on my dog.

Then I had to jump in and remind him where the fuck he was.

Tonight, I wished I was playing referee between the dog and the killer. Instead, I was about be backup for the man who had a score to settle with his younger sibling.

“Cash is a wild muthafucka,” KC said while our eyes remained fixed on our inked brothers as they jumped out of their truck.

Instead of walking up on the Range Rover from the side, Cash had run up to the vehicle, braced a foot on the bumper and launched himself up to the hood. He stomped to the front of the vehicle, and the second the driver’s side door opened, put two bullets through the top of the driver’s head.

KC brought us to a stop a few feet behind the white SUV, and I shook my head at Cash’s theatrics, vowing to tell him to fall back on the Mission Impossible movies or whatever he was watching that gave him dumbass ideas like that.

At the sound of gunshots, the passenger side door of the Range Rover flew open.

Jam was right there to deliver headshots to the dude who got out with his gun drawn.

After jumping down from the hood, Cash yanked open the back passenger side door.

All three of us saw the arm extend from the door, gun in hand, and we jumped out with our own weapons ready.

Jam put a bullet in the arm, and Cash caught the gun before it could fall to the ground.

Then, he yanked the guy out of the truck by the wounded arm.

“Get yo’ bitchass on your knees,” Cash told him, pointing his gun to his head.

Jam came around him to yank the guy’s wounded arm once more, pulling it behind his back along with the other one so he could handcuff him.

“What the fuck, Cash?” the guy spat as he turned to look at them again.

But Rafe was in his space now. Standing directly in front of him as he knelt down to meet his brother’s gaze.

Tariq’s eyes widened with a mixture of shock and fear. “Rafe. Hey … uh, hey, man. When you get out?”

“Not early enough,” Rafe said through clenched teeth.

It was taking Rafe a massive amount of control to keep him from simply killing his brother right here on the street. I knew this without him speaking because, if it were me, I would be doing the same damn thing.

Tariq’s betrayal hadn’t just been against the Ryders. His decision to go behind our backs and begin brokering a new territory where he could set up his own business was treacherous. Framing Rafe, his older brother and one of his only two living family members, on a gun charge was grimy as hell.

“What the fuck y’all doin’? Get these cuffs off me!” Tariq yelled, his gaze shifting from his brother to Cash, who only laughed in response.

KC and I hung back so Tariq hadn’t seen us yet. We were there as backup only. This was Rafe’s show.

“Get the bags out of the back,” Rafe stated, coming to stand at his full six-foot height once more. “And burn this shit down.”

Rafe didn’t wait for Cash or Jam, who both worked under him as the lead enforcer of the Ryders, to do as instructed.

He’d trained them well and knew they would carry out the plan that he’d meticulously laid out weeks ago.

Then he rounded his brother, grabbed his cuffed hands, and yanked him up to his feet.

Tariq yelled out in pain as Rafe pulled him past us to the back passenger door of the Yukon. He pushed Tariq inside, then slammed the door. “Let’s go,” he instructed KC.

I glanced at my younger brother, thanking the heavens that he was as solid as they came in this world.

If there was one thing I knew for certain, it was that for me, KC and our younger sister, Maleeka, this club and the business behind it would always come second to the blood that ran through our veins.

The blood of Archer and Jennifer Mathias who raised us to be loyal and protective of our siblings over everything else.

For KC, I was my brother’s keeper, and he was the same for me.

As for Maleeka, KC and I, were her keepers and protectors.

We were killing any and everybody behind her.

We climbed back into the Yukon while Cash and Jam grabbed the bags from the back of the Range Rover. KC pulled off, heading toward the destination we would all meet at eventually. Tariq moaned in the back.

“Don’t bleed too much on the seats, man,” KC said, looking over his shoulder at Tariq. “This is a rental. I ain’t tryin’ to pay no extra fees for your cryin’ ass.”

Thirty minutes later, we were in the safe room of a mansion owned by Donovan Investments.

I leased a few properties up and down the East Coast with them, under my main legal entity, the Blackbond Corporation.

Instead of being just one room, the space was more like the size of three large bedrooms and was complete with a wall full of monitors and control board for every camera on the property and its security system.

Pull-down wall beds, two couches, and a table with six chairs were on the other side of the space.

Tariq was seated in one of those chairs, his ankles shackled to the legs, hands still handcuffed behind his back as blood dripped from his arm onto the plastic-covered floor.

KC leaned against the wall closest to the door while Rafe stood with his back to his brother about six feet away.

I left my last survey of the security cameras to stand beside Rafe.

“You good?” I asked in a hushed tone.

Rafe was staring straight ahead, his long locs pulled up in some pretty ass style no doubt created by his cute-ass wife Camri.

Tension rolled off him in waves, but it wasn’t just that.

Rage and pain were mixed in. This wasn’t easy.

It was necessary, but not easy and I wanted to offer to take the weight off him.

I’d known Rafe since he was seventeen. Had watched him grow within the walls of the Ryders’ compound on the outskirts of Destine.

Tariq had always been by his side, looking up to him, wanting to be him.

This betrayal was a result of that envy.

I knew it and unfortunately, so did Rafe.

“I’m good,” Rafe replied tightly, then slowly turned until he faced Tariq.

I sent a nod to KC before pulling my gun and turning with him.

KC already had his gun in hand. My brother loved to shoot.

Always had. He was the lead enforcer before passing the torch to Rafe, so this type of shit was his love language.

I killed when I had to. Never hesitated or flinched, but it wasn’t my favorite hobby.

Tonight, we were all prepared to do what we had to do, to make sure everybody—even those we considered family—knew that crossing a Ryder would always end in bloodshed.

“I hope it was worth it,” Rafe said, moving until he stopped right in front of Tariq.

“I just wanted something for myself,” Tariq said, lifting his gaze to his brother. He knew how this was going to end.

I heard his sniffles in the truck, knew the moment he reconciled his death.

He wasn’t going to beg for his life. Tariq was a soldier.

I knew that the day he was inked. He was in this shit for life but at some point, he decided that he didn’t want to be in it with the Ryders anymore.

He must’ve forgotten that wasn’t an option.

“You couldn’t come to us and just say that shit?” I asked, because this was the part of being the leader of this organization that I didn’t like.

Just like my grandfather and my father before me, I prided myself on being a good listener, above all else.

We didn’t bring anyone into the fold that I personally wasn’t one hundred percent certain of, and that meant I needed to talk to everyone who walked through the doors of our compound.

I had to know everything about them, even down to their deepest fears.

It was the only way I knew if I could trust them.

I trusted Tariq, so this shit hurt me too.

“You knew we were talking expansion since Zeke was killed six years ago. We’ve been steadily putting shit in place to make a lot of different moves,” I continued.

“I wanted my own shit!” Tariq shot back. “Not yours or the Ryders. Mine! I earned that shit!”

Rafe smacked him with the gun and Tariq’s head snapped back.

“Because of me!” he shouted. “You were in a position to earn your name and reputation in this world because I put you there! I vouched for you with the Ryders, told them you were blood and so you were tight. I trained you! Put money in your pocket and taught you how to make more. Fuck, Tariq! I stood in front of you when those bastards from the Night Hawks came after you for sleeping with one of their bitches. I was gonna take their bullets for your dumb ass and this is how you repay me?”

Rafe shook his head.

“Me!” He slapped his chest with the gun holding hand. “Me! Your fuckin’ blood!”

His voice didn’t waver or crack, but I heard the pain behind the words. Felt the sting in my own chest.

“That time you got was bullshit!” Tariq said around the blood dripping from his mouth.

“I knew you wasn’t gonna get much. Four years.

Shit, man, I knew you could do that shit with your eyes shut.

And I needed time to get on my feet.” He spat blood onto the floor.

“If you were out you would’ve tried to stop me. ”

“I would’ve stopped you,” Rafe stated.

“And that’s why I had to get you out of the picture,” Tariq replied.

“So you planted that gun in his truck. Hired the beat cops to trail him and pull him over, then sat in that courtroom watching your brother go on trial for some shit you orchestrated.” KC shook his head. “You’s a bitchass for sure.”

“I got a baby, Rafe,” Tariq said. “Kashae had a little boy, TJ, two weeks ago.”

“Now you want sympathy?” KC asked with a dry chuckle.

Tariq shook his head. “Nah. Just want you to know the next generation is coming up behind us. Want you to do right by my seed,” he said staring up at Rafe who frowned in return.

“You asking me to take care of your son because you failed him? If you were really worried about his welfare, you wouldn’t have done this stupid shit!

” Rafe raged, then huffed. “But you know what, this shit is on you. Not my nephew. So, yeah, you can go, knowing I’ll take care of him.

I’ll make sure he has everything he needs to grow up happy and healthy.

To live a life of respect and integrity since his father couldn’t do that shit. ”

The bullet soared through Tariq’s forehead before any of us could mutter another word.

When I stepped closer to touch a hand to his elbow, Rafe’s arm was frozen in position, his finger still locked on the trigger.

Slowly, I pushed down so that his arm finally lowered.

“Swallow that pain. This wasn’t your fault.

He was his own man, and he made his own decisions,” I said.

“Grieve the brother you loved, and release any guilt before you get home to your family.”

He responded with a tight nod.

Seconds later, the buzzing of the locks disengaging sounded, and the door opened. Jam and Cash came in.

“Call Eve, get the cleanup crew over here,” KC told them.

Jam pulled his phone out and turned away to make the call.

“You take care of the stash?” I asked Cash.

“Yeah. Skola’s got it. He’s scheduled to meet with Santana tomorrow,” Cash replied.

“That’s not who’s running this new team down here,” I told him. “You stay here with Skola and find out who’s really calling the shots. Let them know this is Ryder territory now. They don’t like that shit, show them the door.”

Cash nodded. “Got it, boss.”

KC had moved in to say something to Rafe, and I was about to check the security cameras again, just to be sure nobody entered this property except for Eve’s gray vans, when my phone buzzed. Pulling it from my back pocket, I frowned at the name on my screen.

“Speak,” I yelled into the phone.

“She’s gone,” Trill, one of the security guards on my payroll, answered.

I frowned, my fingers tightening on the phone. “Say that shit again.”

He cleared his throat. “She’s gone. She came home from work and parked her truck in the garage like usual.

There wasn’t anything on her schedule, so we figured she was in for the night, and we camped out across the street like always.

About twenty minutes ago, the house alarm started going off.

We ran up immediately, chased off a bunch of deer that must’ve set off the motion sensors.

But when no lights went on inside to signal her getting up, and she didn’t come to the door, while the alarm kept blaring, we figured something was wrong.

So, we broke down the door and, she’s gone, boss. ”

My breath seized, that shit froze up right in the center of my chest, refusing to move to my throat. For a few seconds, I felt dizzy as hell. Then, rage took over and my free hand clenched into a fist. “Fuck!”