Page 44

Bad things happen in threes.

I don’t know how I forgot that.

We haven’t caught anything suspicious on the hidden cameras, so I relaxed. I let my guard down.

Between spending time with my family and torturing Frankie, my brain and my body were exhausted. No matter what I do to him, it doesn’t seem to appease the hunger in my soul. There’s a demand for his blood that claws under my skin, but with every drop I pull from him, the need for it grows.

Death is too quick.

It’s too easy for someone like him.

There’s not much longer that we can hold him at the slaughterhouse. Butcher came up with an excuse that gave us a week with our clients, and tomorrow, that week ends. As much as I want to continue to draw out Frankie’s pain, I have a club and a family to consider.

I’m going over paperwork in my office at the clubhouse when my phone rings.

Hannibal’s name flashes across the screen and I don’t hesitate as I reach for it.

He was supposed to be relieving Tonto from guard duty on Frankie.

“Yeah,” I answer.

“We have a problem,” Hannibal states grimly.

“Talk to me,” I order, climbing to my feet and hurrying out of the office.

“Tonto and Biggy are dead, and Frankie is fucking gone.”

My body jerks to a halt. “What the fuck do you mean, Frankie is gone?”

“He’s not here. The chains are on the ground and he’s disappeared.”

Motherfucker.

I rub my forehead and close my eyes as I try to process what he’s said. “We’ll be there shortly. Lock everything down and search that goddamn place.”

“Understood.”

“And Hannibal, stay cautious,” I warn before hanging up.

How the fuck did this happen? I check the fucking chains every day before I leave. There’s no way Frankie would have the damn strength to pull this off on his own.

Could Hannibal be playing us? Could he be calling to throw us off his trail? To make it seem as if he’s not the one responsible?

My hands carve through my hair, tugging it harshly until the bite of pain helps clear my head. Then I release it.

Straightening my shoulders, I step into the common room. “Cyanide and Manic, come here.”

I mentally run through everything I know about Hannibal, trying to find anything suspicious that would make me believe he’s the one who did this. That he’s the one who has been helping Frankie. He can’t be the one Birdie is worried about because he wasn’t around seven years ago.

That’s what I latch onto, because my gut tells me that whoever facilitated Frankie’s escape is the same person who helped Spunky create a believable scenario for Birdie in the past.

“What’s going on?” Cyanide asks when they stop in front of me.

“Need you to gather the men you trust the most and get them to sit with my family at the house.” I peer around us to be sure there isn’t anyone paying too much attention to us before continuing in a lower tone. “Frankie has escaped. Tonto and Biggie are dead.”

“Fuck,” Manic mutters.

“Shouldn’t you be the one to guard them?” Cyanide asks, referring to Birdie and the twins.

“What I should be doing is finding this motherfucker before he gets the chance to come after them. I made a promise to your fucking sister and I’m going to keep it.”

Cyanide’s eyes widen at the rage in my voice, but understanding flashes in his eyes. “Understood.”

Monster, Munch, Giblet, and Devious are passing by us when they feel the tension in the air and stop.

“Everything okay, Prez?” Munch asks.

Since others pick up on the unease and I’m still struggling to figure out who the fuck helped, I speak in a code that only the ones who were guarding Frankie would understand.

These men, except Devious, have been here long enough for me to trust them explicitly.

Hell, Monster, Munch, and Giblet were born into this life with Cyanide.

They live and breathe this lifestyle as much as we do.

“Yeah. Just had some meat go sour at the slaughterhouse.”

Heads tilt, eyes flash with different emotions, and bodies tighten as they understand that something is fucked.

“What do you need from us?” Monster asks, placing his hand on my shoulder.

“Nothing. Just keep an eye on the people around here. Make sure everyone stays safe.”

They walk away, and I watch them go for a few seconds before turning back to Cyanide and Manic. “We have to make this quick.” I let out a sharp whistle, grabbing the attention of the members in the common room. “Whatever council members are here, you’re needed in the chapel. Now.”

Everyone but D-Bag is here.

“Where’s Monster? D-Bag is at work, so we need him here.”

“Right here, Prez,” he says breathlessly, rushing in as Kraken closes the door behind him.

“Frankie has escaped,” I say, diving right in since we’re short on time.

“Tonto and Biggie are dead. Someone we trust has helped because we’ve been careful about who knew he was there.

We don’t have time to come up with a plan.

It’s all-hands-on-deck as we scour this fucking city looking for Frankie.

I want him found before he comes after my family. ”

“We don’t know who the fucking rat is yet?” Gavel asks, his fist clenching on the table.

I peer at Cypher. “Anything?”

He shrugs. “Didn’t have time to grab my laptop. The meeting was short notice. Once we head out of here, I’ll pull up the ones you had me install.”

“What is he talking about?” Pretty Boy asks, his words uneasy.

I tilt my head, staring at him. “The cameras I had him install on the low.”

The room breaks out in a fit of anger, and I hold my hand up for them to quiet down.

“Let me explain. Birdie came to me before I met up with Frankie. She said that she felt as if someone in the club had been watching her in a way that was uncomfortable. There were things she picked up on when we kicked out Spunky that I didn’t catch.

Birdie has been gone for seven years. That gave her an advantage that we don’t have.

We’d lay down our lives for every motherfucker here because we trust them.

This club lost her trust in the past, so she was more observant.

She noticed Spunky was scared of someone, but she couldn’t figure out who.

“The cameras were only an assurance that we’d be able to catch them.

We haven’t had time to bring it up to you because we’ve been dealing with Frankie’s shit.

You all can have the chance to speak your mind about this, but not right now.

We have an enemy on the loose that is out to harm us.

We need to get him back before he has a chance to retaliate.

” I blow out a breath and turn my attention back to Cypher.

“See what you can find on the cameras. The rest of you will be heading out with me to search while the other brothers stay behind for protection.”

There’s still anger in some of them we’ll have to address at a later time, but they understand how important it is to find Frankie and whoever helped him.

Five minutes later, Cypher passes out the earpieces as we gather around our bikes. “I’ll be in the cage with Devious. He’s cleared because he was with Gavel during the timeframe we believe Frankie escaped. I’ll guide you from there for as long as I can. I’ll also be digging through footage.”

“We’ll start at the Slop ‘N’ Chop,” I tell them, tossing my leg over my bike. “Cyanide, you got men on my family?” He nods grimly. “Thanks. Let’s ride out.”

We’re almost at the slaughterhouse when Cypher’s voice comes through my earpiece. “I’m running through the footage at the clubhouse. I’m starting from the night I installed it. It’s a lot, so it’ll take some time.”

Hannibal is standing outside when we pull in.

I’m climbing from my bike when Cypher’s curse comes through and causes my body to tighten. “What is it?”

Devious flies into the parking lot, tires squealing as he comes to a stop. Cypher jumps from the cage, his eyes running frantically through the men shutting down their engines.

“Where’s Monster?” he asks.

My brows furrow as I peer around. “He was with us.”

“Are you sure? Did you actually see him ride out with you?” Cypher questions us.

“What the fuck is going on?”

“There was nothing suspicious. Not until right after we all left out of the chapel. He was in a fucking hurry. I watched him snatch his phone from the lockbox. I couldn’t tell who he called, but he told them we knew.”

My stomach hardens at his words.

Fucking Monster? There’s no goddamn way.

“Do we know for sure his phone call had something to do with Frankie?”

“The context was there, but I wanted to be sure, so I followed him on the cameras. He met up with Dimples, and they spoke in a tone too intimate for the cameras to pick up. When I pulled up more footage of her, I glimpsed Monster’s black hair before they cut the feed, so I went through the CCTV footage and followed them from the club to here.

Then I picked Dimples’s car up on the highway with her, Monster, and another person in the back.

They were heading away from here. I followed them through the city, but they eventually turned onto a road where there were no cameras around.

I haven’t been able to pick them back up. ”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

My fingers dig into my hair as I toss my head back and let out a roar.

It’s full of anger.

Of anguish.

Of goddamn betrayal.

Birdie and the twins.

Coldness spreads through my core as my emotions shut down. Once I feel the deadness of my soul, I straighten my posture and lock my eyes on every man standing around me.

They raise their chins, holding my eyes, their readiness for war etched onto their faces.

“Tear this fucking city apart. I want them found, and I want them at my feet.”

With sharp nods, they fire up their bikes and peel off.

I pull my phone from my pocket, glancing at Cypher.

“Get in touch with Chimera. We need their help. I don’t give a fuck if it drains my pockets.

Find me everything on Monster and that bitch Dimples.

Malice, get someone to grab Coco and lock her in the club until I get there.

We need to find out what the fuck she knows. Go gentle in case she’s blindsided.”

Then I pull up Birdie’s contact and hit the call icon.

Except instead of her sweet voice answering my call, I get nothing but continuous ringing over the line before being sent to voicemail.

I try again.

And again.

Before the ice around my soul cracks and fear slithers through the crevices.

Cyanide tries the men he had stationed at my house.

The terror in his eyes freezes the blood in my veins.

Time seems to slow down as I try to find out information about my family.

My ribs seem too tight as pressure builds in my chest.

I send Manic to my house, listening to the growl of his pipes as he races there.

He screams their names, but only silence greets him.

Then he sucks in an anguished breath.

“They’re dead. They’re all fucking dead,” Manic’s horrified whisper pierces my ear.

The phone slips from my hand, shattering against the concrete as my soul splinters.

My anguished roar echoes through the sky, a pleading cry to anyone willing to listen, as I drop to my knees.

I claw at my chest, needing to rid myself of this horrible fucking agony ripping my heart to shreds.

Without them, I’m nothing.

Just an untethered soul stuck in purgatory.

Blindly, I reach for the gun holstered at my side. The weight of it resting in my hand is the only answer I have.

The gun skids across the concrete as a booted foot kicks it away and pain shoots through my arm.

Fingers wrap in my hair and yanks my head back until I’m peering up into my grandfather’s furious eyes. “Lock it down.”

His words don’t register. They’re a buzz against a brain clouded with grief.

But then he gets in my face, his glassy, anguish-filled eyes pleading with me. “Lock. It. The. Fuck. Down.”

“I can’t breathe,” I gasp, grabbing at my throat.

Gavel’s form wavers in front of me as my sight is blinded by the tears pouring from me.

“It’s okay, son. I have enough oxygen left to breathe for both of us.”