“Dammit, Cut, you really pulled us into some shit for pussy.”
“Me? You’ve all brought us into shit because of a woman. Think hard,Vlad. Nic, Greer, Rae, and even fucking Dusty. We dropped everything to help them now you’re leaving me out to hang? Fuck you.”
I hang up, needing to get to Rough to see what he knows.
My phone rings again. Vlad. This time, I ignore it and tear off so fast, my back tire skids on the gravel. This isn’t going to work. I need to get there now. I pull off the highway again to take stock of where I am and realize I’m only about forty-five minutes from John Long. He’s a millionaire, a buyer from us. He’s got a private plane and a private helicopter. I have his number for when we’re setting up drops, but I’ve never been to his place officially. Rage had us check out his property all covert like because he always wanted the upper hand in any situation.
I have no idea if he’s home, or if he’ll agree to help me, but I’m willing to offer just about anything to get her back. Vlad will be pissed, but at this point, Vlad can go fuck himself.
Long’s road isn’t coming to me. I pull up a map of the area to jog my memory and it finally registers when I see it on my screen. A few clicks later, it’s locked into my GPS and I speed off. No, I don’t have an address, but these houses are fucking huge. I won’t forget his house.
The closer I get, the more stressed I become. What if he’s not home? What if he doesn’t want to get involved? What if he’s pissed that I’d have the balls to show up and ask for his help in the first place? Then this little side venture will have pushed my time back even further.
It’s a miracle no police have stopped me yet. I’m breaking speed laws and most traffic laws on the books. I could puke when I finally reach his road. It’s long, but I’m so close now. So damn close.
With nothing for it, I take the road, careful to eye every mansion or plot of land when the mansion was set too far back to see the house from the road. John Long lives in one of those. With an iron gate in front. Iron horses or horse heads fit into the gate—Long’s is unique for this area. He has planes. The man’s property has a private air field.
Eventually, I find it.
I pull up to the gate and look into the camera, speaking into the speaker. “I’m Cutter with the Bedlam Horde. I need to speak with John Long. He knows me.”
It takes another several minutes of me sweating it out, eying the property, because if he won’t see me this way, then I’m hopping the fence and taking my chances that way, but to my utter surprise, the doors open.Thank Christ.
The main house is bigger than anything I’ve ever seen in real life. All stone with gothic porticos, it reminds me more of a cathedral than a home. Lavish gardens surround the front and there’s a circle drive with a huge, marble fountain that I’d be willing to bet he commissioned in Italy or some shit.
When I approach the arched wooden door to knock, it pops open. The butler or whoever this dude is opens it wide enough for me to enter. He’s legit wearing an expensive suit. I don’t know jack about quality, but even I can see that this thing is above my pay grade.
“Mr. Long will see you. Please follow me.”
Damn.I don’t want to appear as in awe of this place as I am, so I try to keep down my reactions, but this place is posh.
He leads me to a door off the main hallway, knocks once, opens the door, and announces me. “Mr. Cutter,” he says. I nod at him and step inside the mammoth office. It has stained glass windows. I—wow.
“Thanks,” I say, then wait for him to back out and close the door.
“This is a surprise to see you at my home. I assume this has something to do with the Satan’s Apostles?” John Long is like sixty-five but he either traded his soul at the crossroads or with his kind of cake, paid for harvested organs, skin and hair implants included. He keeps his light brown hair brushed away from his face and he has less wrinkles than I do, and I’m only twenty-nine years old. His teeth are preternaturally white and he wears a platinum pinky ring engraved with a horse head. As I surprised him at his home, he looks like he’s ready to go golfing rather than wearing a business suit.
My mouth drops open. “How did you know?”
“The Death Bringers have made problems for both our camps, mine and the Horde. Your people have handled it splendidly, but that doesn’t mean I don’t keep an ear to the ground. I want to know when and if they’ll try to cause more trouble. About a month and a half ago, maybe a little more, the Death Bringers put a bounty out on a woman. Hunters out looking for her. It seemed she’d dropped off the face of the earth until today when I get word about the Satan’s Apostles, whom we both understand to be known bedfellows with the Death Bringers, have captured that woman. I take it she’s been with the Horde?”
“She’s my old lady. Roughneck was with her. They hurt him real bad and took her. She’s pregnant with my kid.” I’m not about to divulge why she was away from the compound to begin with. I feel like such an asshole. “I have to get up to Lima, Ohio because that’s where they were attacked. She was headed north to Michigan to see a specialist. I had shit for Vlad I had to take care of first. I was on my way to join them when everything went down.”
“So you came here because I have an airfield,” he stated confidently, not asking a question.
And I don’t plan on lying to the man. “I was close by. You’re the only one I know of in these parts who might be able to help. I’ll pay you with a marker.”
“A marker from the Horde? That’s interesting…”
I shake my head. “Sorry. It’s a marker from me alone. I didn’t run it past the brothers to stop here. This is all on me.”
He takes time to think about it. “Okay. Groves will take you to the jet. I’ll send a few of my men along with you for backup. They’ll make sure you get to Lima and help in any way to get your woman back. I’ll be in touch when I need that marker repaid.”
“Thank you. Do you want me to sign something?”
John Long smirked the kind of smirk that said, ‘Oh, you simple man.’ “I don’t need your signature. You won’t renege if you know what’s good for you, your woman, and your child.”
Fuck.He’s so refined that I forgot how ruthless the man can be. He buys our guns. A hell of a lot of them.