Page 59 of Hell on Wheels

Chapter 15

“There’s no one here. It’s a dead fucking end, brother,” Grim spat, pissed we wasted our time riding all the way to Las Vegas.

“Fuck!” I shouted, kicking at one of the wooden beams inside the abandoned warehouse. “Angel fucking lied!”

“Yeah, the fucker did,” Patriot agreed.

“I’m not surprised,” Rael added. “He gave us that info too fucking easy, even if Salazar was there forcing him to do it.”

Fuck. Another dead end.

Angel Mackenzie lied.

“I need to call Lark.”

“Wait.” Grim held up a hand. “We aren’t alone.”

Each of us alerted, we moved at the same time, retreating into the shadows. Footsteps on the stairs proved someone had heard and followed us. Angel’s men? A trap? The feds?

I didn’t have a clue.

I saw the gun first, then the burly big fucker attached to it.

Torin. Lark’s stepbrother.

He kept the gun pointed outward as he rounded the corner, facing me.

Pissed, I aimed at his fucking forehead. “Why the fuck are you here?”

“Needed to know if you found my little sister.”

“Why are you pointing a fucking gun at me then, you dipshit.”

Rael snickered.

“Because I don’t like your type,” he snarled.

“My type?” I roared, rushing toward him as he blinked.

He stood his ground. “Outlaw. Degenerate. Bad influence. You get the picture.”

“Lark doesn’t seem to mind.”

“She’s good at sabotaging herself.”

“You’re a dick,” I spat. “Lay off the testosterone. She’s not even here. Neither of them are, for fuck’s sake.”

“I know.” Torin lowered his gun, holstering the piece. “I followed you.”

“No shit,” Patriot muttered.

“How about you don’t blow through the next place we check out like a bull through a china shop. Yeah?”

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