Page 102 of Brew
Blood pounds in my ears. “Alive?”
“Yep, a little roughed up, but alive nonetheless. We’ll get him to the van.”
“And the girls? You get to them yet?”
“Yep. Shit scared out of their minds. There’s gotta be girls as young as twelve in there.” He sounds disgusted. “Say you’ll fuck him up good and proper and let me have a turn, I have a teenage daughter at home.”
“So do I,” I mutter. “Headin’ your way.”
“Watch your back.” He clicks off.
“They got our man,” I say as we rush for the stairs that lead down. It smells musty the farther we move along. We’ve gotta be close. “And the girls are secure.”
“I’m depressed we didn’t get to kick more butt,” Haze replies, ahead of me. Just as he says it, a gun fires, and it clips me on the shoulder. I grunt.
“Fuck.” We duck, firing back as the soldier ahead drops to the ground.
“You hit?” Haze asks, pointing his gun as we move closer.
“Yeah, but it’s just a graze.” Or at least I hope it is. It won’t stop me, regardless. I feel the top of my shoulder, my fingers painted with blood as I grimace. Bastard.
“You get shot on my watch, I’ll be the one dealin’ with Mom,” he says, reiterating my earlier words.
“Can’t have that, can we now?” We storm forward, dodging this way and that because Evans came prepared with plenty of artillery. They’re still no match for the police.
People are getting arrested left, right and center. We sweep through the entire cargo hold until we spot Cash, Priest and Hustler, they’re letting the women out of the holds as the police swarm around.
I’m sure Willow will have some explaining to do because of our involvement, but maybe it’ll be the Rebels in the headlines this time. Heck knows we’ve set things up for years so the cops look good.
I stand there, my throat thick as they follow one another out of their confinement and into the ship’s hold.
My hands shake. I need to get to Evans while he’s still breathing. He’s my only shot at getting to the man himself. The very last person whose death I need etched into my soul. The last penance for a journey I’ve been on for far too long.
It’s not over yet, but it will be soon.
And then I can start my new life with Erica and Olive, the family I never had.
CHAPTER
THIRTY-FIVE
Erica
“What do you mean he got shot?” I try to grapple with the words, but they’re not registering. I clutch my phone like my life depends on it.
“He’s going to be okay,” Amber says. “He’s on his way home.”
“On his way home?” I try those words out, but they also don’t hold much weight. I sit down on the edge of the couch. It’s late, and Olive is in bed.
I knew Brew had club business to take care of, but I didn’t know it wasthisdangerous.
“I don’t know all the details, but he found one of the men who was involved in Valencia’s murder,” Amber says softly. “And during the raid, he caught a bullet, but I’m told it only skimmed his shoulder.”
He caught a bullet?
I think I might be in the twilight zone. I haven’t even heard from Brew, and he’s been shot? Fear grips me, but I somehow hang on for my next words.
“He didn’t tell me anything,” I whisper. “He didn’t even say where he was going.”
