Page 109 of Fractured Fear

“Molly, china white, acid, bud. Anything I could get my hands on.”

Rio let out a whistle and chuckled. “You really pulled through for them,amigo.”

“That’s what I do,” Hank says with a shrug.

Asher nods his head. “Thanks for the info.” We all turn and walk away.

“Wait! What about my mom?” Hank calls out.

“I’ll get everything arranged tonight,” I call back over my shoulder. I don’t turn back to see if he’s satisfied with my answer, he knows I’ll come through.

“Let’s go party with some gangsters,” Rio says with a violet grin.

CHAPTER 43

ASHER

I’m ready for heads to roll. Specifically, a couple fuckers who thought they could come by and shoot up my family. Spencer may give me more headaches than my last clingy hookup, but she’s important to Rio and Zane—my constant hard on around her doesn’t factor into the equation.

These MS-13 fucks are lucky Spencer and Iris weren’t hurt. They already have a world of hurt coming down on them, but if Spencer had been shot? We wouldn’t just be hunting them down to slaughter them like the little pieces of shit they are, we would make an example of them.

In fact, maybe that’s what we’ll do. Make them an example. Then everyone will know that you don’t fuck with Spencer Gray.

When driving through Brownsville, out in Brooklyn, your head better be on a fucking swivel. My Glock rests on my thigh and my shoulder holster is loaded with two more guns. We suited up after we left Hank in the rear view.

Rio has his knives strapped at his waist and his Beretta in hand.

That man and his knives. Never offer to hold them for him.

Zane is wearing his own shoulder holster and has a gun on each side.

We don’t expect to encounter too much trouble, but you never know. Those two could have a whole armory in that rundown house.

The upside in this whole thing? The neighbors won’t call the cops if bullets start flying. It’s that kind of neighborhood.

We park a couple houses away. The house is white—or what once would have been called white. Now the paint is chipped and yellowed from neglect and the elements. It’s a small one-story house which will make infiltration easier. The grass is a pathetic brown and the door is the same tinted white color. There’s no fence around the small property which means no pets. No pets mean the guys inside won’t be warned of our approach.

The sun has begun to set, in just thirty minutes it will be darker than the pits of Hell. We can let loose andplay.

Zane turns toward me in the backseat. “How do we want to play this?”

Rio bounces his knee impatiently. “Pizza delivery?”

I groan. “Seriously?”

The smile in Rio’s voice rings clear when he says, “It’s my favorite!”

“I don’t have any pizza boxes in my car.”

“Nah. I put some in the trunk the other day. Sal gave them to me.”

Letting out a chuckle I shake my head. He would. “When the fuck did you have time to do that?”

“I like to be prepared. I never know when I’ll need an excuse to get inside someone’s house.” He’s dead ass serious.Of course, he is. We may be crazy assholes, but Rio’s mind has always operated differently. His sister’s death broke something in him when he was just ten-years-old.

We sit in silence, watching the house, waiting for a signal that someone is home.

After what feels like an eternity, there’s movement in the front window to the right of the door. Someone is peeking through the blinds. Zane just nods and Rio chuckles low.

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