Page 22 of Exhale (Out for Justice #8)

“ W hose house is this?” Jordan whispered to Micah.

“Supposedly, Danner has a woman here he’s dating.”

“How come nobody knows about it?”

“How should I know?” Micah said on a quiet, snorting laugh.

“You suck.” Jordan rolled his eyes and checked the clip in his weapon. He had two more clips tucked into his pockets.

Thankfully, he wore his vest when tracking Cody, otherwise, he would have felt exposed.

“Supposedly, she’s got kids,” Black murmured from his spot near a thick oak tree just down the block. The man had binoculars to his face for a long time before he lowered them and glanced over.

“And they aren’t hers,” Micah said.

“Whose are they?” Jordan asked quietly.

“She has ties to a human trafficking ring that specializes in small children,” Black said.

“Jesus…what the fuck? I thought Danner was just into weapons and drugs,” Jordan said.

“Human trafficking is a billion-dollar industry in the U.S. alone,” Black said.

“I know the statistics.” Jordan shook his head and unclipped the sheathed knife at his thigh.

“We won’t let that happen to Owen’s boy,” Micah said.

“Thanks,” he said, although Micah couldn’t guarantee rescuing Weston.

Jordan swallowed around a knot in his throat. If Weston was already sold, it would be impossible to find him.

“What are we waiting for?” Jordan murmured, impatient to get in there and finish this.

“The lights to go out,” Micah said.

“Why not just shoot them out?” Jordan held up his weapon equipped with sound suppression device twisted on the end.

“We’re going to need the lights to avoid hitting the kids, unless you have infrared goggles?” Black said, a frown clear in the man’s voice.

“Actually, I do, but they are in the Pegasus vehicle,” Jordan grimaced. “And why can’t we call Pegasus?”

“Too many people wanting fingers in the pie. They don’t care about the victims, they only want the reputation from taking down the perps.”

“That’s not true…” Jordan frowned at Black, and he wondered what had happened to the guy to change him into someone so bitter.

Jordan tried to lighten the mood. “Hey, I ran into Lucas the other day. You remember him? He contacted me,” Jordan said.

“What?” The shock was clear in Black’s voice.

“Where? How is he?” Micah cut in, throwing Black a quick, surprised look.

Jordan remembered that Lucas and Micah had been really tight back then, like best friends tight.

“He’s not doing too well. He lives at a shelter in downtown Ventura. Let’s look him up when we get back.”

“Damn right.” Micah smirked.

Black growled.

Jordan gave a rueful smile. Chase Black had been the protector of their small band of boys, surely, he remembered Lucas? Should he remind him of it?

Black spun around on him in the darkness, and Jordan hastily backed up. He would have fallen to his ass if not for Micah’s hold.

“Where is he?” Black snarled, biting out the words.

The words were growled so low and lethal that Jordan felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand at attention.

“He was outside the Pegasus office. He followed me from a restaurant one day not long ago.”

“Where is he now ?” Black said, still in that flat, hard voice.

“Guys?” Micah whispered and pointed to the house. “We gotta go. We gotta go now.”

Jordan whirled around in time to see several men walking up the steps of the house.

“Shit,” Black muttered and sprinted across the street.

Micah followed, and Jordan took up the rear. He shot out the street lights ahead, giving them more darkness to move through as they approached the house.

“I’ll take the back,” he said, and before either of them could argue, he flew through the darkness down the side of the house.

Cutting through the back lawn, he took the stairs after killing the porch light. He didn’t bother with the lawn lights as they could only reach the bottom of the porch.

Voices from within filtered through the door. The window that overlooked the back porch was covered by an inside curtain. The sound of a washer or dryer hummed inside.

“Someone’s at the front door,” one of the men from inside said.

With the arrival of the men in suits, it was going to be impossible to breach in silence, and Jordan wondered what plan Black had for getting inside. Surely, he wouldn’t shoot his way in, would he?

They didn’t have comms, so this was going to be interesting to say the least. Jordan recognized the soft whomp of a silencer going off, and he sent his boot against the wood of the back door, kicking it in.

“Jordan!”

Owen’s voice had him spinning around, but it was too late for him to completely dodge the blow from the perp behind him.

Instead of his face, the man’s fist glanced off the side of his head.

Still, though, it sent him stumbling and his gun tumbling away into the dark.

He heard it thunk into the hedge nearby.

The perp kept raining blows on him and even used several high kicks and martial arts-type of stuff. It would have taken him out, but Jordan kept his arms up, protecting his head. The kicks hurt like a fucking bitch.

Several things went through his mind as he tumbled from the porch and onto the lawn. How did Owen find him, and why hadn’t he paid more attention to his surroundings?

Owen was there the next instant and yanked the fucker off of him before tossing the guy away like a rag doll.

The man spun on Owen, and the pair faced off.

Owen leveled his Ruger at the guy. “Get on the fucking ground.”

The man moved, but it wasn’t to get on the ground. Instead, in a blur so fast it left Jordan reeling, the guy snapped the gun from Owen’s hands with a move to the wrist.

The gun flew away, and Owen’s smirk was visible from the backyard lights.

Jordan knew a few basics of Judo, but he was no master. Owen, on the other hand? Well, the perp was in for a world of fucking hurt.

The perp attacked, and Owen dodged easily and delivered a throat punch.

The man stumbled, grew enraged, and moved in, feet and hands both flying.

One hit Owen in the chest, but Owen was big enough not to stumble.

When the guy charged again, Owen grabbed one wrist, yanked the man forward, and then spun him around.

The snap of the man’s arm rang through the dark, and the slight grunt of pain was clearly audible.

Owen shoved the man to the ground and placed zip ties around one good wrist and the other around the man’s ankle. Kind of like a one-legged roped calf on its stomach.

“You good?” Owen approached him.

“Yeah, Danner should be inside. Hopefully, Weston is in there.” Jordan spun away and took the stairs. At a crouch, he entered the kitchen that sat just off the back door.

The side of his head hurt like a bitch, but finding Weston was more important than a little pain.

Inside was fucking chaos.

That was the only description that came to Jordan’s mind.

The perps that remained alive were on their knees, the rest were scattered dead in various rooms.

Black and Micah had torn through them like butter.

“There’s a guy in the backyard,” Jordan told Micah when he approached.

“I’ll get him,” Micah said and disappeared that way.

“Watch your ass,” Black growled after the slender man, and Micah shot Black a quick, charming smile.

“I’d rather watch yours,” Micah said.

“Stop it,” Black muttered darkly.

Jordan gaped for a second, glancing back and forth between Black’s scowling face and Micah’s disappearing back.

What was that about, he wondered, but didn’t have time to question. It wasn’t his business anyway, plus it wasn’t like Micah and Black were related by blood.

In fact, he only knew that Black was Micah’s stepbrother. Or so that was what he’d been told all those years ago.

Owen walked up to one of the perps and crouched down so they were eye level.

“Just you know, we are not the cops,” Owen said almost conversationally. “So, we won’t be turning you in.”

Owen fingered the edge of his knife. The thing was fucking huge, like Crocodile Dundee big.

“Fuck you,” the perp snarled with venom.

“Yeah, okay,” Owen said and stabbed his knife straight through the man’s skull.

The room fell into stunned silence.

Owen yanked his blade free, and the man toppled dead.

Owen turned to the next guy in line.

“Mother fuck!” one of the perps gasped.

Owen turned on the vocal one, and the man fell backward, hands still tied behind his back, so he was off kilter.

Eagle grabbed the guy by the hair and yanked him up and back to his knees.

“What do you want to know?” the man asked fearfully, eyeing the knife in Owen’s big hands.

“Where is my son?”