Page 26 of Rage

“Like hell you will, Daze!” Owen objects sharply. “That’s Wyatt’s doing. He can clean it up.”

Wyatt glares at him. “Youthrew my shit against the wall soyoushould clean it up!”

“I wouldn’t have thrown it against the wall if it hadn’t disgusted me so much!”

Curiosity gets the best of me. I sign cautiously, “What’s all over the floor, Wyatt?”

Wyatt throws me a dark look.

“You all have been loud and clear that I can’t keep body parts from our victims, so I was doing the next best thing,” Wyatt grumbles. “I’ve been taking pieces of our victim’s skin with a hole punch and keeping them in a box. After a while, the pile started to look like confetti, so?—”

“Oh, so ‘skin-fetti’,” Daisy speaks up, catching on.

She giggles while Owen and I both grimace. Reaching over, I grab her arm to pull Daisy off of Owen. He grabs her other arm to drag her back, but I win and manage to drag her across my lap. As Daisy continues to giggle, I shoot a dark glare at Wyatt.

“The point of not collecting body parts is so that there’s no evidence if we’re caught. Keeping theskinof our victims is the same damn thing,” I tell him angrily.

“Get the vacuum and clean that shit up,” Owen demands. “And then toss what’s in the vacuum out at our next pit stop. Jesus, Wy… why are you so fucking weird?”

“At least he’s not keeping body parts in the freezer anymore,” I tell him.

Chapter 4

Drake

“Idon’t like this,” Owen grumbles as he adjusts the straps of his backpack.

It’s a dark and humid evening. Thunder rolls in the distance while lightning flickers across the sky. If the rain holds off for a few more hours, that would be ideal. It can wash away the evidence of our presence once we’re done here.

“You don’t like anything that doesn’t involve being behind a computer screen,” Wyatt teases as he shoves his sheathed blade into his boot. It’s one of two he carries, just like the rest of us.

Unlike the others, I shoulder my rifle. I’ve tried teaching them how to use a gun over the years, but none of them have really taken to it well enough for me to feel confident handing them one tonight. Not that they mind. They all seem to prefer the close proximity that comes with wielding a knife. I don’t blame them. I like being up close and personal while watching the life drain from the eyes of someone who deserves it.

“That’s not true,” Owen objects.

“Eh, it’s close enough to the truth,” Kingston says, his long fingers weaving through the air as he signs.

Owen glares. “No, it’s not!”

At Kingston’s nod, Owen pushes his shoulder. King pushes him back. Wyatt jumps into the fray and a three-way pushing and shoving match ensues. Rolling my eyes, I turn to look for the woman in charge.

I find her standing a few feet away. Her gaze is locked onto the dirt road ahead of us. There’s a stillness in her frame that I know doesn’t mirror the chaotic storm brewing beneath her skin. I can feel it. Her internal war, fueled by justice and a fractured mind is like static as it rolls over my skin. Down my arms, the hairs begin to rise. My heat races, picking up on the frantic energy that has nothing to do with the storm overhead.

Stomping over, I come up beside my girl and reach to cup the back of her neck.

Daisy doesn’t stir. She stares straight ahead. I follow her gaze down the road we’re about to trek down. It’s poorly lit with old streetlamps set too far apart, creating dark walls of blackness between them. There are large ditches filled with puddles, along with shards of broken glass from bottles, plus trash and abandoned tires. Finding it once we got in the area had been difficult, stealing time we don’t have.

“You good?” I ask her, my voice gruff.

Daisy’s head dips once in confirmation. My brows furrow and my grip around her neck tightens.

“Use your words, Daze.” I need to know she’s in the headspace for this.

Our hits are usually smaller. A rapist, a murderer, a pedophile here and there. Single targets with no one funding them. But tonight? There’s a container filled with women someone bought and they’ll be coming for them. There’s no doubt in any of our minds we’re going to run into trouble saving these women. There will be guards watching over this shipment, and they'll probably be armed. We haven’t done something this big since, well, Briar Glen. The difference between then and now,though, is Daisy not only had years to plan her revenge, but she managed to put together a planned B as well.

We’re coming at this with only a few hours of planning and no intel on who’s behind the trafficking. There’s a good chance we’ll be leaving tonight empty-handed and with a few bullet holes. That’s if we don’t end up dead.

“I’m fine, Dre.”

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