Page 1 of Wild Devil

ONE

DAZE

“Calm down, Daze,” Ben snaps at me from across a narrow room.

Actually, it’s more like a crude concrete square, surrounded by plywood nailed to a shoddy frame. The cartel once used it as a logistics center for storing and transporting stolen car parts, according to Marco—one of the few who stayed behind. It’s no five-star hotel, that’s for damn sure. The structure is drafty as hell, and every sound echoes. It is, however, easily defendable, and large enough to serve as a base.

Besides, beggars can’t be choosers, and it’s just about the only safe place in Westpoint City.

“You’ll give yourself a heart attack before Silas or Heywood can put a bullet through it first,” my second-in-command continues. “Have a seat.”

The request seems to be purely symbolic, considering there aren’t even any chairs around—not that I care. I keep pacing, slamming one foot in front of the other as I try to think. “I can’t just sit on my ass while Frey is still in there,” I say out loud. My voice is so gruff I can hardly recognize it.

“Take a breath, at least,” Ben calls out. “Look, I know your girl is in danger, but you’re just torturing yourself at this point. Slow down.”

Danger is putting it lightly. Every minute she’s in the hands of those monsters, her life is at risk. Because of me.

Though, I wouldn’t put it past Ben to knock me the fuck out to keep me from going to her, if he had to.

Besides, we haven’t been twiddling our thumbs. Damien and his boys, along with any stragglers Ben could gather, met us after Frey left. Here, our team has begun to reorganize, coming up with a plan to take down Heywood and Silas once and for all.

So far, it goes something like this—keep an eye on the church.

Recruit a capable crew of allies.

Try not to go fucking insane in the meantime.

Surprise, that last part is the most difficult. My sanity went with Frey as she skipped into the enemy’s lair alone. The old Daze Keaton would never admit as much, but her absence feels unnatural—like a part of my body is missing. An arm. A leg. A piece of my damn soul. Whatever it is, I can’t function for long without it.

Without her.

“Any news?” I ask Ben for the umpteenth time.

“No, Daze, things haven’t magically changed in the last five minutes since you asked.” Rolling his eyes, Ben crosses his arms. “Lyra took Sam home, despite us telling her to stick around here. Don’t worry, I’ll keep an eye on her. As for your girl, she’s still at the church, and Kane is there, making sure we know the second she’s moved. Damien’s out trying to track down that reporter guy, and Lex is getting specialized computer equipment?—”

“The point is, they’re all being useful,” I grit out, eyeing my hands. They’re bruised and scraped to hell and back. Even so, I can imagine feeling her warm, soft skin so damn clearly it stings. My fingers flex as if to hold the sensation, but it disappears within seconds.

“Day—” Ben doesn’t bother to hide his worry as I look up. “Sit down,” he says.

Still pacing, I let my hands fall to my sides. “Tell me again why I’m waiting around here? I should be out there.”

“Because you’d be shot to pieces on sight should you go gallivanting around the city. According to Kane, the security at the church is so tight, he can’t even get close. The men Silas has on patrol are probably looking for you, and they won’t just crack open your skull like before. You’ll be killed on sight, and then what about Frey?”

“Heywood was always going to have her locked down tight,” I counter, thinking out loud. Maybe this—the millionth time I’ve gone over this scenario—will be the one time I finally discover a breakthrough. “All I’d have to do is cause a distraction and we take out as many of the guards as we can.”

Ben sighs. “We went over this, Day. You need to fight this war on two fronts. Two separate strategies. Besides, what do you really think will happen if you barge in to play the hero? They’ll just let you walk out with her?”

“Maybe I should go find out?” I can’t resist the temptation any longer. Curling my hands into fists, I make my way toward the battered metal doors at the front of the warehouse, a few paces from our makeshift command center.

“Oh, come on! Not this again. Look at me.” Ben rushes forward to grab my shoulders with lightning speed. “Read my lips, Day. You. Can’t. Save. Her. Yet?—”

“I know.” I push away from him, tearing my hands through my hair. “I know…” The anger is all for show. Once again, he’s right. I need to clear my mind and strategize if Frey has any chance. It’s what she’d urge me to do—instead of thinking with my dick, think like a fucking leader.

After all, she supposedly gave me the blueprint to take down Michael Heywood. I cast a glance over my shoulder and wince. Everything she left for me to find is scattered over a ratty metal table, including a tablet, a business card, a journal, and her final message—Trust me. Hale tried to tell me the truth, and I owe it to him to get him justice. Don’t come after me yet—I’ll come to you. I can handle myself. After all, I learned from the best. —Love, Frey.

She put more trust in me than I deserve, because what have I learned since then? Fucking nada.

“Lex’s working on cracking the info on that tablet,” Ben insists. “He’ll come up with something soon. You just gotta be patient. You know how long that tech-shit can take?—”

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