Page 86 of Preacher

“Won’t know for sure until we get down there.” Seven seemed hesitant, so I asked, “You good?”

“No, but I’m here.” He let out a breath and ran a hand through his hair. “Time to see what we’re dealing with.”

“Agreed.” I turned to Grim and Memphis as I asked, “You ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.”

I opened the door, and they all followed as I made my way down the basement stairs. I was still doing what I could to shake off the lack of sleep, and it wasn’t easy without my daily pint of coffee. I didn’t let it slow me down, though. I was eager to get this thing done, so I’d called the boys in early and had them meet me at the main house.

I’d done my best to fill them in on everything that had gone down, but even I had my questions on how we’d gotten to this point. It was a lot. But we had a plan. It was a good plan. We just needed things to fall into place, and for that to happen, we would need Rooks to piece it all together.

We were halfway down the steps, when Memphis leaned in and asked, “You good?”

“Been better.”

“It’s all right. We’re not gonna let anything happen to your girl.”

“I’m gonna hold you to that.”

Memphis nodded, and we continued down the steps.

When we reached the basement, Sergei and his brothers were waiting for us. Sergei motioned his head towards the back as he said, “He’s in there.”

“You keeping him locked in the damn wine cellar?” I muttered.

“Guest quarters,” Sergei corrected. “Well, they used to be. It’s been modified, but not unbearable.”

I gave him a look but didn’t question him. I just held back with Seven and Grim, watching as Sergei walked over and unlocked the door. I half-expected to find Rooks chained to a pipe in the dark, half-dead and pleading for his life, but when Sergei unlocked the door and pushed it open, I stopped short.

The room was nicer than ours over at the clubhouse. There was a big bed and a small sofa facing a giant flat-screen TV, and there was an adjoining bathroom. Hell, it even had its own mini fridge in the corner.

Rooks was sitting on the sofa, and he was dressed in gym shorts and a T-shirt. He was sporting a lengthy beard, some old bruises, and his arm was in a sling, but other than that, he looked in pretty good shape.

I could hear Seven behind me as he muttered, “What the fuck?”

Rooks stood and a scowl marked his face as he growled, “What the hell are you doing here?”

“Wondering what the fuck you’re doing still alive and breathing,” Seven grumbled.

“Sorry to disappoint.”

“I definitely am,” Seven snapped. “I would’ve thought Sergei would’ve given you what you had coming.”

“Alright, ladies,” I interrupted. “That’s enough of that. We’ve got business to attend to.”

“What kind of business?” Rooks spat.

“We have a job for you to do.”

“Oh?” His cocky grin faded just a bit. “And what makes you think I’ll do anything for you assholes?”

“Because helping us is your only shot at walking out of this house alive.”

There was no missing the hope in his voice as he asked, “You mean that?”

“Wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t.”

“Okay, what do you need?”

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