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Chapter Seventeen

Porter

Icould see Marcos' house in the distance. There were some faint lights glowing around a few of the windows, but aside from that, the place looked empty. That wasn't the case at all, and I knew it; Emery was in there.

My headlights were off, and the engine idled quietly as I sat trying to figure out how I was going to get inside. Marcos was never completely alone, because he wasn't stupid.

I wasn't the only asshole out there gunning for his head. He had enemies on all sides. But that comes with the territory, it's a part of this world. You can't climb to the top without pissing on others to get there.

He had his selected few, the men he entrusted his life to. From what I knew, there were always at least two or three other guys roaming the grounds, squatting in some hidden spot, jerking off to pass the time.

I was about to walk right into the lion's den, and most wouldn't be stupid enough to ever do that alone. Except for me. . . I was that fool.

Reaching for my gun, I felt the vacant spot where it was normally tucked away. Cringing to myself, I scratched my fingers through my hair, wondering how the hell I was going to go blazing in there to get Emery back.

I was going to have to be careful and really think about each step I would take. As much as I just wanted to charge in there like a raging bull, I couldn't. I wouldn't risk Emery getting caught in the crossfire, no fucking way. This had to be done as quietly and swiftly as possible.

Climbing out of the car, I popped the trunk and searched around inside. There had to be something I could use, something that would work as a weapon. Finding the tire iron, I held it in my hand.

This will have to do.

Clutching the metal, my knuckles went numb as all the blood drained out, leaving them white. This anger was going to fucking kill me. My heart was ready to implode, and my head was throbbing.

All I felt was this bristling rage that coated my body like a hard shell. There was nothing else inside, no fear, no worries, no regret. This woman had become mine, she had become a part of me in ways I couldn't understand, but wasn't willing to let go.

I loved her and I would do anything for her. Even if that meant giving my life for hers.

Using the shadows, I stalked through the night like the Grim Reaper, eager to suck the soul out of the next man in line.

Peering through the darkness, I could see two guys outside. One of the men was sitting in a chair by the front door, his gun resting in his lap. From where I was, I couldn't tell if he was sleeping or just relaxing.

The other guy was pacing the grounds, walking back and forth between the cars, his eyes constantly scanning his surroundings.

He's first.

Keeping myself low to the ground, I crept up behind Marcos' Hummer, silently waiting for asshole number one to come my way. The man kept stopping, periodically checking over his shoulder and searching as far into the distance as his eyes would allow.

I could feel the ground shake slightly and hear the soft ping of gravel as it was kicked up by his feet. Adrenaline surged through my muscles, forcing my fingers to tighten around the metal bar.

His shadow grew long and slender, his breathing audible as he approached where I was hiding in the darkness. The tips of his sneakers poked out from under the bumper and I didn't wait for him to take one more step.

Leaping up, I swung the tire iron, cracking him across the side of the head. Dropping to the ground, he laid motionless as a thin stream of blood trickled down his forehead.

I could have killed him right then, but I didn't. I wasn't there for that, even though every inch of my body was screaming at me to do it.