Page 51 of Fractured Vows (Fraser Crime Syndicate 1)

I push up from the table where I’m sitting, my eyes finding my brothers. “Let’s go.”

Kane and I head out, flanked by Ford and Winters. We need to move quickly, before my father gets wind of what we’re doing and puts a stop to it. Adrenaline pumps through my veins as we get into the car and make our way to the address given to us by Weston. Wood is going to suffer for what he’s done. If Zeke dies, there will be no place for him to hide.

When we reach the meeting place, Ford puts the car into neutral and pulls the handbrake up. He turns around in the front seat to look at both me and Kane. “You stay close to me and Winters.”

If he thinks I’m going to hide behind my bodyguard, he’s wrong. I don’t need protecting. What I need is to feel the sting of vengeance. Nothing is going to stand in the way of that.

Weston and some of the other men pull up in their cars next to us. Kane and I get out of the back seat and go over to Talia’s father.

He eyes us both, as if trying to gauge whether we’re level. I’m not entirely convinced I am, so I don’t try to hide the anger that is racing through me. “Any news on Zeke?”

I shake my head. During the hours we’d been sitting in the safe house, we hadn’t heard anything. I wasn’t sure if that was a positive or negative, but the lack of information is starting to piss me off. We should be at the hospital with Zeke, helping him pull through this.

But thisishelping him. If the roles were reversed, our brother would be here, avenging us. That thought steels my shoulders and relieves some of the tension rolling through my body.

We go over the plan, as rudimentary as it is. Then we attack.

Weston’s men enter the bar first, leaving Kane and I outside. I want to be involved in the action, but both of us are too important to risk. Winters and Ford are standing on either side of us, waiting and armed, ready for whatever may come.

Shouts come from inside the building even as gunfire ricochets around. Patience isn’t my strongest suit, and I’m desperate to be inside, locating Jeremiah fucking Wood. As I stand there, I imagine the things I’m going to do to him. I’m going to enjoy every fucking second of it. I glance at Kane and see he’s getting twitchy too. Like me, he is ready to bring the action.

It feels like the minutes drag on, but in reality it can’t take more than five minutes for them to gain control of the bar. When Weston re-emerges from the door, he beckons us forward and we follow him inside.

The club is not high-end. The floors are sticky as we walk across them. There is a bar the length of one wall, and booths line the edges of the room. The smell of stale beer hangs in the air, a sickly, disgusting stench. Men have been bunched together on the floor, facedown, their hands interlinked behind their heads as Fraser men point guns at them.

“Wood isn’t here, but we’ve got one of his high-ranking lieutenants.” Weston rubs a hand over his face. “He might be able to give us a location, with the right persuasion.”

I know exactly what persuasion he’s talking about. It’s the kind that involves knives and flames. It’s a punishment that I’m all too eager to dole out. Frustration from the past few days means I’m ready for a fight. My blood heats at the thought of slicing somebody, of making them feel pain. I enjoy the bloodlust, perhaps not as much as Kane, but enough to make me a little bit on the crazy side.

“Bring him to the warehouse. Gun.” I hold my hand up for his weapon and Weston hands it to me. I move along the line of men who are facedown on the floor with their hands interlinked behind their heads. Kane moves to the other end, having acquired a gun from someone else.

I give Kane a look, and he nods slightly, telling me he’s ready. I cock the gun and I put a bullet in the first man. The back of his head explodes, brain and blood flying into the air. I don’t give it a second thought. I move to the next man and pull the trigger again, then the next, going down the line until I meet Kane in the middle. The air fills with the coppery tang of blood, infusing my nostrils. It’s a heady scent, and I breathe in deeply. These cunts deserve to die. They picked the wrong side and paid the ultimate price for that. Everyone in this life knows this is how the end may come. We don’t fear it but accept it. It is the dangerous line we straddle every day. To be in this life, you have to accept you may not die old in your bed but bloody in the street.

We organise the clean-up with some of our crew and then we head to the warehouse. Both Kane and I are eager to talk to this man, to torture him and find out what he knows. He will either squeal like a pig and give us all the answers we need, or he will take his silence to his grave.

The warehouse is in an industrial estate that has long been disused. It’s the main reason we like using it. No one around to hear the screams of our victims.

As I climb out of the car, my adrenaline flares. I’m ready for the upcoming fight—not that this man will fight back. His life was over the moment we took him. The only decision he has now is how easy his end comes.

Kane moves behind me as we head towards the door of the warehouse. I can feel the excitement coming off my brother. Kane lives for the moments like these when he gets to unleash his demons in a controlled way. We all love this, even Zeke. If it were Kane who was lying in the hospital right now, Zeke would be here, ready to dole out retribution on his behalf.

My brother would also make sure I was avenged, and that is exactly what we are going to do. Wood’s lieutenant is going to pray for mercy that neither of us are going to deliver.

As we step into the building, the cold air hits us. It’s like a fucking refrigerator unit in here, and for good reason. It’s harder to think when you’re cold. That’s what we need. Our victims to be terrified, freezing, and open to talking.

I crack my knuckles as we move into the back room, past the boxes and crates, past the huge storage shelves that are collecting dust. The air smells musty and damp. I can only imagine the fear that man must have felt being dragged through the building, knowing he’s in for hours of torture. My brother’s reputation in particular is well-known amongst the gang culture.

We step into the room. I can already smell the piss and sweat. It clings to the air, a heavy shroud. The lieutenant is hanging from a hook in the ceiling, his arms stretched over his head so that he is balancing on his tiptoes. I can only imagine the pressure it’s putting on his shoulders and the pain he must be feeling down the back of his neck. He is naked, sweat beading on his skin. I’m not surprised to see the defiance shining in his eyes because I would have the same look on my face too. I can tell this fucker is not going to back down easily. I relish the challenge. This is going to be fun.

Weston is leaning against the wall. He pushes up when we enter and comes over to us. “He hasn’t said anything yet. Not that I expect he will without persuasion.”

Kane gives a macabre grin. “We’ll get him to talk. Don’t worry about that.”

Weston lets out a breath. “Your father is going to be pissed that we went against him.”

“Our father should have been first in line to retaliate when Zeke was attacked.” My words come out on an angry hiss. “He was all too keen to be proactive when they wanted to attack Wood. He will just have to deal with what we’ve done.”

“Your father could kill me for what I’ve done.” There is no fear in Weston’s voice. Over the years, he’s stood toe to toe against my father many times and lived to tell the tale. He is one of the few people who can get away with standing against Anthony Fraser. He and my father have been friends since they were children, and that gives him a certain amount of leeway that other people don’t get. He may have pushed it too far this time though.

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