Page 41 of Indecent Villain

I wasn't planning on it, but maybe it would be best to get rid of it quickly before there’s a chance of someone finding out.

"I think we will, yeah."

Prez nods. "We'll shove the drugs into the saddle bags while we wait for your ride to get here. Once we've loaded the truck, we'll come with you. Safety in numbers." He smirks.

"Sounds good." I nod to Salem to let him know I'm stepping outside the container to get a signal.

Within an hour,all the weapons are loaded into the back of a pickup, and the drugs are loaded into saddle bags.

Vizion tested that shit and discovered it was heroin. My brother's ears must be fucking burning with how much I’ve cursed the asshole out. I need to let my anger go because of Kinsley. She loved Jude.

But for our headlights, the strip of road we’re traveling along is pitch black. It is two in the morning. The truck rides low with the heavy weight, so we take our time, even though I’m itching to put my foot down. Rogers doesn’t yet know we’re on our way. In fact, I’m not going to tell him until we’ve left his place. After the last time with Kinsley, I’m not taking any chances.

Five minutes out, I gradually slow our little convoy down. There is a small area about half a mile from where the warehouse is located, which is where we come to a stop. The bikes make too much noise for us to approach quietly. No one speaks as we move out on foot. Not everyone comes. There are three men in the cab of the pickup and four of us on foot. The others stay behind and watch our backs. I didn’t want a larger number accompanying us in case shit hits the fan and we have to make a quick getaway. Fewer men means it's easier to keep track of everyone.

Prez suddenly appears in front of me. "No one at the gates. There could be sensors and possibly eyes in the sky, but we didn't see anything." I nod, acknowledging the information.

"Let's stick to the plan and move quickly," I whisper to Prez before gesturing for the group to proceed cautiously toward our target, which only takes another five minutes to reach. The rumble of the pickup isn't silent, but from what I can see, it hasn't attracted any attention, unless, like Prez said, they have eyes in the sky. There are some fucking tall poles around the perimeter, so the eyes could be perched on top.

It doesn't take as long to unload as it did to load, but by the time we’re finished, my muscles are burning as though I've had a good workout with weights. It's been a while since I’ve felt this way.

As I’m about to hop into the back of the pickup, a bullet pings the side of the truck with a metallic thunk. My gun is in hand before I hit the deck beside the truck. I'm pissed at being used for target practice.

Razor growls. "I see the fucker. He's mine." His white teeth gleam in the dark and nearly outshine the blades in his hands. There is a reason he's called Razor.

He moves with a deadly grace, disappearing into the shadows as he stalks his prey. I feel a rush of adrenaline as I watch him go, knowing that whoever dared to shoot at us is about to face the consequences. Another bullet whizzes by.

I grab my phone and dial Rogers. As soon as he answers, I shout, "Call off your fucking men! We have your weapons."

"What? I can't hear you."

I hang up and shoot him a text message instead.

Me: Weapons at the gate to the warehouse. Call your men off.

Rogers: I don't have any men there. Warehouse empty.

What the fuck!

I show Salem and Prez.

Prez grins. "Let's kill us some fuckers."

What a clusterfuck!

Salem stays close as we shoot blindly into the foliage. I hope like fuck none of Prez's men are there. I point ahead, and Salem nods. Crouched and ready to move, we freeze. There are footsteps on the opposite side of the pickup. I drop to the ground to check if they're friend or foe. I smirk. Who the fuck wears loafers to a gunfight?

I shake my head at Salem and show him three fingers.

“Ready?” I mouth, and he nods.

With a gun in each hand, I spring to my feet and shoot. I drop two assholes, and Salem takes down one. Moving now, we don't stop. I take out a couple more guys before I hiss as my cheek stings.

"Fuck!" I swipe at my face and come away with blood. Some fucker shot me. I wince.

"Beckett, don't shoot!" Padre shouts. "They're either dead or gone."

"Any alive?" I'm met with silence. "Let's clean up. I want pictures of the dead so we can identify them. I want the asshole behind this.”

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