Page 112 of Disturbed Lucidity

Stepping further into the room, I fumed. “Where the fuck is Ivy?”

“Got men out looking for her,” Mouth said, walking over to me. “It’s bad, Luc. Her knife was next to the priest. Throat slit from right to left. Deep too. Whoever did it hit the bone. Damn near decapitated the priest. Wasn’t Ivy. She doesn’t have that kind of strength.”

“Mouth is right, Luc. Ivy is right-handed. Whoever killed the priest was a leftie,” Logic said, walking into the room, drying his hands with a clean rag.

“Trash, Agony. Get off the fucker,” I ordered, then looked at Slash. “Where the fuck could she have gone off to?”

Rubbing the back of his neck, Slash shook his head. “I don’t fucking know. The homeless camp, maybe? But she knows that will be the first place we look for her. With her father in the area, your guess is as good as mine, Luc. She could be anywhere.”

“LUC!” Saint shouted, running at full speed from his office, shoving a full clip into one of his guns. “Indigo’s in trouble. He needs help!”

Disturbed brothers scattered fast, racing to their bikes.

Rushing to the exit, I yelled after him, “Where the fuck is he?”

“South of town. The warehouse district.”

“What about my sister?” Malice roared.

“Ivy can take care of herself. Indigo was tracking Devlin Scott!” I stated, jumping on my bike. Revving the engine, I peeled out of the parking lot, the brothers of Disturbed right behind me.

The area we rode into was a hotbed for all the evil in the world. Criminals of all walks of life used this area to move their product, make deals, kill unrepentantly as they strived for power and dominance in a world that would surely kill them.

I knew what I was talking about because I was one of those men.

Police and government officers had tried for years to squash the growing numbers of criminal organizations but were failing miserably. I read once that the local governments were considering bringing in the military to patrol the area in the hopes that their presence would cut back on crime.

However, nothing came from that.

I knew nothing would.

In the end, the criminal underground sorely outnumbered the good guys. So, it was up to men like me and my brothers to do what we could. While we preferred to keep our noses out of other people’s shit, all bets were off when it came to me and mine.

If the criminal elements of California wanted a fucking war, they were about to get one they had no hopes of winning.

Parking my bike a few blocks from the entrance to the nearest warehouse, Saint was off and running, doing a quick recon of the area. I knew stealth was going to be our best bet. I had no idea what Indigo had gotten himself into, but if he sent the call for help, I knew it was bad. That motherfucker was a one-man killing machine and could easily handle himself without fanfare.

My only concern was what he was going up against.

Indigo’s prime objective was to find, watch, and eliminate Devlin Scott, only if presented with the opportunity. The man Indigo hunted was only a fucking businessman, and that worried me. None of us really knew what Devlin Scott was into or capable of.

Standing near the entrance to the warehouse district, Saint ran over. “Counted at least fifty men, maybe more. They have the place surrounded. Each carrying AKs. It’s a veritable Fort Knox, Luc. Plus, we have another problem.”

“Tell me.”

“Found Solomon’s bike and Hannibal’s car. Indigo wasn’t alone.”

“Fuck,” I cursed when more bikes approached.

Turning, I said nothing as the Soulless Sinners parked, then disembarked their bikes.

“Wasn’t gonna let you have all the fun, besides, this one wants a word with his sister,” Montana stated, thumbing his finger at Malice, who looked ready to be let off his leash.

“You know that problem you were trying to fix before it got out of hand?”

Montana narrowed his eyes and growled, “Yeah.”

“Hope you fixed it,” I firmly said, reaching for my phone and sending a text.

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