Page 21 of On the Rocks
“I hope you find her and she’s okay.”
Me too. Because that’s the only thing that will keep me from going fucking insane.
* * *
"The car was trackedto a parking garage where it was abandoned. We're sweeping it now, and they're doing high resolution scanning and thermal imaging on the videos of each exiting vehicle. Once they ID them, we'll be able to start tracing their route again."
My chin lifts in response to my captain's update. Too fucking frustrated to actually bother speaking. Lots of explanation that doesn't mean jack shit. Meaningless words until she comes back.
My office's been turned into a war room. Which is exactly what this is. War. Some arrogant bastard thinks he wants a fight. I will take on any family - every family – that’s been fucking stupid enough to be involved with Trinity's disappearance. We've been at peace for so damn long, I got fucking complacent. Assuming no one would strike. Believing no one is fucking foolish enough to challenge us. I mean hell we're the motherfucking Deverauxs for fuck’s sake. We’ve ruled this fucking city for more than a hundred years, and they sure as hell aren't going to overtake us now.
Whoever has the balls enough to infiltrate my team and turn Butcher against me will pay. With his life and everyone he loves. Normally, I only fuck back with the man who crosses me. But right now, with my wife missing, nothing's off the table. His father, brothers, cousins, in-laws. One by one they will die until I get her back.
All the muttering quiets down as Leanna brings in more sandwiches. Well aware the difference between what’s legit and what’s dirty in my business, but she doesn’t need to be exposed to all the harsh details. Besides I can’t fucking stand the fear lining her face. Matching my Mom and Trish’s. All of them terrified it might be too late. That our efforts are in vain. Which I refuse to acknowledge.
“I’ll get more drinks too.”
“That’s fine. They can get?”
The buzzing on my desk steals my attention. Please fucking god let the text be from Trinity.
I guess you got my message.
Fucking Senator. I don’t give a fuck about his bullshit. Those contracts are the least of my fucking worries. I start to toss my phone on my desk when it vibrates again.
Keep our agreement and you’ll get back what’s yours.
God damn son of fucking bitch. This stupid motherfucker has Trinity.
I almost laugh with relief. This privileged, prep school mamma’s boy has no idea what the fuck he’s doing. Who the fuck he’s messing with. I’ll have her back within the hour. Make sure she’s safe and sound, and then I’ll cut off his dick and shove it so far up his ass he’ll think it’s his tongue.
I’m on my way.
* * *
An energetic vibepulses in the air. It’s been a long time since we’ve attacked, and the guys are hungry for a good massacre. Most of them are sick fuckers who get off on the heady blend of fear, piss, and blood. They also know they’ll be rewarded handsomely afterward with all the booze, cash, and women they want. “Kill anyone who resists, except for McAdams. That bastard is mine.”
Grunts and head bobs of agreement. Anxious to just get going. Only two last details needed before we strike. My cell buzzes with the confirmation.
Security cameras cut.
Gate guards eliminated.
I give the signal to circle up and move out. A convoy of black SUVs roll silently toward the mansion. The funeral procession before the death.
Less chaos than I’m expecting once I get inside. Under Weston’s guard, three men lay face down in the living room amidst the glass and wood shards. Their feet and hands tied together. Bright enough to surrender after Harry rammed the front door going thirty miles an hour.
The bodyguard points past the demolished staircase. “Senator’s headed out the back boss.”
Good. I love it when they run like pussies. Makes beating their asses that much more fun.
I jet through the doorway and see his dumb ass stumbling on the deck. He’s got nothing on the adrenaline racing through me, and I catch him before he reaches the garden. Ramming him from behind, he crumples instantly. Stupid fucker doesn’t even put up a fight.
I flip him over and pound him with three hard punches. Breaking his nose, jaw, and eye socket. The snapping bones reverberating through my fist and up my arm. God damn, it’s fucking good to be king.
Now I’m the one eager to dole out more torture. To make this fucking moron suffer. But I have to get Trinity’s location while he can still talk. “Where is she?”
He moans through his cries. I can’t make out his gurgled response through the blood gushing down his nose and filling his mouth. I shake him again but he just heaves, rolling onto his side. Fuck it. I yank him up by his hair and force him onto his knees. Waiting while the blood and vomit drain through his lips. Cascading like a waterfall against the cobblestone path. “Where the fuck is my wife?”
