Page 23

TWENTY-THREE

BOZO

“You good?” Preacher asks, his American accent thick and heavy. We’re at Jerry’s house. He called and asked for a meeting. I’m fucking hoping it means that he has some news.

“I’m good,” I lie. I’m far fucking from it. Grá’s bottling up how afraid she is and it pisses me the fuck off. She shouldn’t have to hide away in the clubhouse because of some motherfucking bastard who couldn’t get his fucking job done. There’s no doubt in my mind that they were meant to kill Antoine, but he somehow escaped and ended up in the emergency room, and that’s how Gráinne ended up tangled up in this fucking mess.

Every lead that we seem to get ends up being a dead end. Nothing pans out and it’s beyond fucking frustrating.

“You’re not,” he says. “But you will be. Once we have a location on these fuckers, we’re going to ensure that they die and that it’ll be painful and slow.”

I nod grimly at Preacher's words. He's right, I won't be okay until we find these bastards and make them pay for what they did to Gráinne.

We enter Jerry's house, finding him pacing in his living room. He looks up as we enter, his face grim. He does this a lot when he’s angry, when something is happening that’s out of his control.

"What've you got?" I demand, not bothering with pleasantries. There’s no use for them, not with Jer. We both want to find these cunts, for Gráinne’s safety. I trust my brothers. I know that they have my back. But Jer’s different. He views my woman as his daughter. He’s going to go all out to find out what the fuck is going on and where these bastards are hiding.

Jerry runs a hand through his hair. "One of my contacts in Romania came through. They've got intel on Dragomir Popescu."

My heart rate picks up. Finally, some real information. "And?"

"He's bad news, Bozo. Really bad news," Jerry says, his voice grave. "He's not just involved with The Revenant—he's their leader. He runs their entire operation."

"Fuck," Raptor mutters beside me.

Jerry nods. "Yeah. And that's not all. Apparently, he's in Dublin right now."

My fists clench at my sides. "What the fuck is he doing here?"

"Expanding their territory, from what my contact could gather," Jerry explains. "The Revenant is making a big push into Western Europe. Ireland is their gateway."

The pieces start falling into place. "And Gráinne overheard them talking at the hospital and they’ve concluded that she overheard their plans.”

"It could seriously fuck up their operation," Jerry finishes. "That's why they're so desperate to get to her. She's a loose end they can't afford."

A wave of rage washes over me. "They're not getting anywhere near her again," I growl.

Jerry holds up his hands. "I know, Bozo. That's why I called you here. We need to make a plan. This is a fucking tight knit operation. There’s no fucking way we’re getting close to them, unless we plan it to the fucking T."

Preacher steps forward. "What do you suggest?"

Jerry takes a deep breath. "We need to draw Dragomir out. Make him think we have information that could compromise their operation."

I raise an eyebrow. "And how do we do that?"

"We set a trap," Jerry says, his eyes glinting. "Use one of our own as bait. Someone who could believably have overheard something important."

The implication hangs heavy in the air. I shake my head vehemently. "No. Absolutely fucking not. We're not using Gráinne as bait."

Jerry sighs. "Bozo, I know you want to protect her, but?—"

"But nothing," I snarl, stepping closer to him. "She's been through enough. I won't put her in danger again."

Preacher puts a hand on my shoulder, holding me back. "Easy, brother. Let's hear him out."

I take a deep breath, trying to calm myself. "Fine. What's your plan?"

“Her place is being watched, as is the hospital. Which means going to either place alone is a fucking huge hell no. I’m not letting them get to her, Bozo. They won’t hurt her again,” he growls. “But we could have her collect some clothes, or have someone else do it for her and lead them into the trap.”

I clench my jaw, considering Jerry's words. As much as I hate the idea of using Gráinne in any way, I know we need to do something to draw these bastards out. This way, she’s not in their line of sight and we’re drawing them out.

"And then what?" I ask, my voice tight with barely contained anger. "We just wait for them to make a move?"

Jerry shakes his head. "Not exactly. We’ll set up surveillance on them, have our guys watching them. Whoever follows you—us—will be brought in for questioning."

Raptor nods slowly. "It could work. But it's risky as fuck."

"Everything about this situation is risky," Jerry counters. "But if we do nothing, they'll keep coming after her. This way, we control the situation, and we keep her safe."

I pace the room, my mind racing. The thought of putting Gráinne in any kind of danger makes me sick, but I know Jerry's right. We need to end this, and fast.

"Fine," I growl finally. "But I want every fucking precaution taken. And I'm going to be there every step of the way."

Jerry nods. "Of course. We'll have eyes on her at all times. And we'll make sure she's never actually in harm's way."

Preacher nods, already pulling out his phone. "I’m letting Prez know what’s going on. He’s going to want to ensure that we have men on the clubhouse and women."

“I’ll call in my men too,” Jer says with a dark grin.

I leave them be and step outside for a moment, needing some air. I’m worried that this could all be for nothing, that it could end up backfiring on us and Grá will be hurt despite everything.

I pull out my phone, staring at Gráinne's number. I should call her, tell her what's happening. But the thought of hearing the fear in her voice again makes me hesitate.

"You okay?" Jerry's voice comes from behind me.

I turn to face him, my expression grim. "No, I'm not fucking okay. The woman I love has a fucking bastard after her who wants her dead."

Jerry's eyes soften. "I know. But we’re going to make her safe. We’ve got a plan and it's our best shot at ending this quickly."

I nod, knowing he's right but hating it all the same. "If anything happens to her..."

"It won't," Jerry says firmly. "We'll make sure of it."

I take a deep breath, steeling myself for what's to come. "Alright. Let's do this."

As we head back inside to finalize the plan, I can't shake the feeling that we're about to step into something much bigger and more dangerous than we've ever faced before. But for Gráinne, I'd face down the Devil himself.

I’m like a caged animal, prowling the warehouse that Jerry owns. It’s out in the docklands, and I’m waiting with my brothers for that motherfucker to be brought to us. I went to Grá’s apartment to get her clothes just as we’d planned, and to no one’s surprise, that motherfucker was waiting on her. It didn’t take me longer than a second to see that it was étienne, the man who was at the poker game in Spain. He’s also the fucker who Grá described as the man who attacked her.

He watched from across the street as I entered her apartment and was still there when I left. I saw the twisted fucking grin he had when we made eye contact. He’s not stupid; he’ll know we’re the ones who are hiding Gráinne. If he’s sensible, he’ll stay the fuck away from the clubhouse. Jerry had Maverick and Emmanuel follow him when he left Grá’s apartment. From there, they followed him across town to another apartment complex in Rathmines, where Jer has more of his men currently watching, while Maverick and Emmanuel continue to follow étienne. Soon, they should have him cornered and be bringing him to me.

I want answers and I’m done playing around.

The warehouse is silent except for the sound of my boots on the concrete floor. Preacher and Raptor stand nearby, their faces grim. We're all on edge, waiting for the moment when Maverick and Emmanuel bring that piece of shit étienne to us.

I check my phone for what feels like the hundredth time. No messages. No updates. The waiting is fucking killing me.

"They'll be here soon," Preacher says, his voice low and reassuring. "Maverick knows what he's doing."

I nod, but I can't shake the tension coiling in my gut. Every second we wait is another second that Gráinne could be in danger. I know she's safe at the clubhouse, surrounded by our brothers, but it doesn't stop the worry gnawing at me.

Suddenly, the warehouse door creaks open. We all snap to attention as Maverick and Emmanuel drag in a struggling figure. It's him. étienne.

They throw him to the ground in front of us. He looks up, his eyes wild with hatred and fear. Good. He should be fucking terrified.

"Well, well," I growl, stepping closer. "Look what the cat dragged in."

étienne spits at my feet. "Fuck you," he snarls in a heavy French accent.

I don't hesitate. My fist connects with his jaw, sending him sprawling. "That's not very polite," I say, shaking out my hand. "And here I thought we were going to have a nice chat."

Preacher and Raptor move to flank me as I crouch down to étienne's level. "Now, you're going to tell us everything you know about Dragomir Popescu and The Revenant. And you're going to tell us why you're after my woman."

étienne glares at me, blood trickling from his split lip. "I'm not telling you shit."

I smile but there's no warmth in it. "Oh, I think you will. See, we've got all night, and I've got a lot of frustration to work out." I pull out my knife, letting the blade catch the light. "And trust me, by the time I'm done with you, you'll be begging to talk."

étienne's eyes widen slightly, but he tries to maintain his bravado. "You don't scare me. You have no idea who you're dealing with."

I lean in close, my voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "No, you don't know who you're dealing with. You fucked with the wrong woman, and now you're going to pay for it."

I stand up, nodding to Maverick and Emmanuel. "Tie him up. Make sure it's tight."

As they secure étienne to a chair, I turn to Preacher and Raptor. "Are you boys ready for a long night?"

They both nod, and Raptor grins maniacally. “This is what we do, brother. We don’t let anyone harm what’s ours.”

I turn back to étienne, who's now securely bound to the chair. His eyes dart between us, a hint of fear finally breaking through his tough facade.

"Last chance," I growl, leaning in close. "Tell us what we want to know, and maybe we'll go easy on you."

étienne spits in my face. "Fuck you and your whore."

Red clouds my vision. Before I can stop myself, my fist connects with his face again, and again. I feel bone crunch under my knuckles, but I don't care. All I can think about is Gráinne, terrified and hurt because of this piece of shit.

"Bozo," Preacher's voice cuts through the haze of rage. "Easy, brother. We need him conscious."

I step back, breathing hard. étienne's face is a bloody mess, but he's still conscious, glaring at me through swollen eyes.

"Now," I say, wiping blood off my knuckles. "Let's try this again. What does Dragomir want with Gráinne?"

étienne stays silent, but I can see the fear in his eyes now. Good. He's starting to understand the situation he's in.

Raptor steps forward, a wicked grin on his face. "My turn," he says, pulling out a set of pliers. "You know, I've always wondered how many teeth a man can lose before he starts talking."

étienne stares at him with blank eyes. Raptor doesn’t care. He holds the pliers, something he brought along with him—in his to-go bag, as Preacher calls it, and it contains every fucking weapon you could ever imagine—and grabs étienne’s hair. He pulls it backward, jerking his head back.

Raptor’s whistle fills the air as he yanks out étienne’s front tooth. He doesn’t stop there. Tooth after tooth he pulls from the Frenchman’s mouth. It’s something akin to a horror scene. Raptor’s face is covered in blood splatter and his grin is satanic.

"Wait," étienne gasps as Raptor goes to pull yet another tooth. "Wait, I'll talk."

I hold up a hand, stopping Raptor. "We're listening."

étienne takes a shuddering breath. "Dragomir... he's paranoid. The girl overheard something at the hospital. Something about a shipment coming in."

"What kind of shipment?" I demand.

"Women and children," étienne snarls. "Big shipment. Coming in through Dublin port next week. It's supposed to be The Revenant's foothold in Western Europe."

I exchange a look with Preacher. This is big. Bigger than we thought. Fucking animals are trafficking not only women but children. Cunts.

"And Gráinne?" I ask, my voice dangerously low. "What were your orders regarding her?"

étienne hesitates, and I can see the fear in his eyes grow. "We were supposed to bring her in. For questioning."

"Bullshit," I snarl, grabbing him by the throat. "You were going to kill her, weren't you?"

étienne struggles to breathe, his eyes bulging. I loosen my grip slightly, allowing him to speak.

"Yes," he gasps. "Dragomir doesn't leave loose ends. She overheard us. She needed to be stopped."

I release him, stepping back. My whole body is shaking with rage. She didn’t fucking hear that. She has no idea what these motherfucking animals have planned. "Where's Dragomir now?"

étienne shakes his head. "I don't know. He moves around; never stays in one place for long."

I grab him by the hair, yanking his head back. "Don't fucking lie to me. Where. Is. He? We know he’s in Ireland."

étienne's eyes dart around, looking for an escape that doesn't exist. "Okay, okay! He... he has a safe house. In Howth. Big place overlooking the sea."

Preacher pulls out his phone, likely to relay this information to Jerry. I keep my focus on étienne.

"Address," I demand.

étienne rattles off an address, his voice shaking. I nod to Raptor, who writes it down.

"Now," I say, leaning in close. "You're going to tell us everything you know about The Revenant's operations. Every detail, every name, every location. And if I think for one second that you're holding back..."

I let the threat hang in the air. étienne nods frantically, blood and saliva dribbling down his chin.

For the next hour, we extract every bit of information we can from him. By the time we're done, we have a clearer picture of The Revenant's operations, their key players, and their plans for expansion.

As étienne finishes talking, slumping in his chair, I turn to Preacher and Raptor. "What do you think?"

Preacher nods grimly. "Sounds legit. Matches up with what Jerry's sources have been saying."

"So, what now?" Raptor asks, cleaning blood off his pliers.

I look back at étienne, my jaw set. "Now, we end this. We hit Dragomir hard, shut down their operation before it can take root here."

"And him?" Raptor nods toward étienne.

I consider it for a moment. Part of me wants to end him right here, make him suffer for what he did to Gráinne. But we might need him.

"Keep him alive," I decide. "For now. He might have more information we need."

I turn to leave, but étienne's voice stops me.

"You're dead," he croaks. "You and your bitch. Dragomir will find you, and when he does…"

I had planned on keeping this cunt alive until we had Dragomir and the Revenant brought down, but fuck that shit. He’s proved time and time again that he doesn’t know how to shut the fuck up.

I spin around, my fingers clasped around my knife, and I take a few steps closer to him. “No one is going to touch her,” I growl, my voice low and deadly as I slice my blade along his throat.

He’s dead within seconds, his throat slit, blood pouring from him like a fucking river.

One down, too many more to fucking go.

But I will make it safe for Gráinne. I won’t stop until I do.

"Let's go," I growl to my brothers. "We've got work to do."

As we exit the warehouse, I pull out my phone to call Jerry. We need to move fast now. The clock is ticking, and Dragomir Popescu's days are numbered. I'll make sure of it.