Page 25

CHAPTER 25

Toxic

“ Q uit breathing on my neck, asshole,” I muttered and shoved my elbow into Butcher’s gut.

He grunted and took a step back. “Your big ass head is in the way. I’m trying to see.”

Lockout’s sigh was barely audible, but I knew he was scowling in the darkness without needing to see his face. “You’re going to get us caught,” he muttered.

Butcher chuckled. “We’ve done this kind of thing too many times to get caught, Prez.”

“Two guards near the front door,” I said in a low voice.

“Four more upstairs,” Lock replied.

Butcher shoved me out of the way so he could get a better look. “Six guards? That’s it?”

We all met each other’s gazes in the darkness.

“That’s not a good sign,” Lock said, voicing what we were all thinking. “Brently has to know we’d show up at some point. Since you sent him a couple of fingers from those assholes who came to the ranch.”

“Wasn’t easy wrestling those away from the pigs,” I muttered.

“There’s no way he feels comfortable enough to take us on,” Butcher added.

We’d all seen the photo of him that Rip had added to the file he’d made on Brently. Typical boardroom type. Skinny fat, noodle arms, five-six maybe. The guy was smaller than most. Sure, guns were a great equalizer, but he didn’t hold himself like a man who was confident in his ability to inflict violence on others.

“So why only six?” I muttered.

“He’s not here,” Lock answered.

I scowled at him. “You serious?”

“Yeah. We’re still going in there, but guaranteed he’s not going to be home.”

Neither Butcher nor I asked what the point of going in was. There were three reasons to still storm Brently’s Chicago residence. One, it got rid of six men in his employ. That was six less bodies to fight later on. Two, we could get some information out of them before we killed them all. And most importantly, number three, it would allow all three of us to release some of this tension we were all under.

I was finally starting to understand what it was like to be Butcher. To have this anger and savagery building inside of me. The need to let it go before it destroyed me. I didn’t like this shit. I didn’t need to live with this to appreciate the bullshit that Butcher had to deal with on a daily basis. I knew he was a crazy fucker. Now I fully understood why.

Lock was in the same position. I could read the brutality in his eyes. We were both in this space temporarily. Butcher had to live with it every day. We were here because of women. Well, I was here because of a stubborn woman. Lock was here because he was the one being a stubborn asshole.

“What’s the plan?” I asked. My only answer was getting jostled out of the way as both my president and best friend stormed the front door of the Chicago residence. “Seriously?” I asked, mouth hanging open.

Lock never did shit without a plan. Except for when he went full Lockout. His boot hit the front door, splintering the fucking thing into chunks. He was through the tatters of the door before the men inside could react.

“Well, shit,” I muttered to myself as I rushed forward. If I didn’t hurry up there’d be nothing left for me. And that wasn’t going to sit well with all this pent up rage inside of me.

Butcher was pulling his ax out of a guy’s head by the time I made it through the door.

Eyeing the carnage, I asked, “Where’s Lock?”

A scream from upstairs pulled my gaze off the scene downstairs. Lock had a guy lifted up over his head as he walked toward the railing on the second floor.

“Head’s up,” I warned Butcher.

“What?” A heavy, wet, thump answered his question. Butcher swore and scowled up at his president. “Watch where you’re throwing shit.” The body was only a few inches from where Butcher was standing.

“Save me one, Lock,” I told him. Coming all this way and not getting to kill anyone was only going to make my mood darker.

“There’s one hiding in the kitchen,” Butcher said, jerking his thumb over his shoulder toward a door. “I wouldn’t count on him keeping one alive for you.” Another scream split the air. Another thump.

“Fuck. Fine. I’ll take that one. We should have left him at home.”

Butcher chuckled. “Like that was going to happen. He’s on a roll.”

I looked up toward the second story and sighed. “Rip said he needed a break.”

Butcher frowned. “I said that first.” He looked upstairs. “What’s he need a break from though? Haven’t figured that out. The club?”

“No,” I told him, shaking my head. “From his own fucking denial.” I met Butcher’s gaze. “We’re going to have to figure out a way to get Keely home or we’re going to end up losing him.”

Butcher’s eyes narrowed. “Losing him how? The fuck are you talking about?”

I didn’t bother to answer. I had my own fucker to hunt down. If I didn’t make it quick, Lock was going to finish up and take my fun away. Moving into the next room, I looked around, searching for the guy who ran this way when Lock and Butcher had busted into the house.

My mind was still on Lock and the problem we might end up facing with him if he didn’t pull his head out of his ass and wife up his woman, so I didn’t notice the fucker slink around behind me in the shadows. When his weight hit my back I smiled. There was no holding it back.

“Should have just shot me, asshole,” I told him. Reaching back, I grabbed behind his head, then dropped my shoulders and sent him flying over me onto the floor, where he rolled and regained his feet. Everything faded away as I followed after him. The vibration of my fist meeting flesh satisfied some of those urges building inside of me.

He was fighting back. I took a hit in the fucking kidney as he darted around behind me. We were fairly evenly matched in size, but his heart wasn’t in this. He didn’t have murder burning in his eyes. He wasn’t filled with the need for vengeance and blood. He was being paid to protect some rich asshole, not fighting for his woman’s safety. It made a difference. It was the reason why there was more force behind my hits.

He went down with a thump when I threw an uppercut at his jaw and connected.

“Quit playing around.” Lock’s voice cut through the frenzy that had taken over me. “We need to get out of here before the cops come.”

I glanced over my shoulder and saw Lock there, arms crossed over his chest, watching me. He looked like he was back to normal. Back under control. My eyes flicked over to Butcher.

He grinned at me. “One little, two little, three little dead goons,” he sang out.

The smile that grew on my face was brutal. Straightening, I pulled my gun out of the holster clipped to the back half of my belt. I pointed it down at the man on the floor. He was awake now and his eyes widened as he recognized that he was going to die. “Picked the wrong asshole to work for,” I told him with a shrug. Then I pulled the trigger.

We had silencers on the guns. In a neighborhood like this? Someone had already noticed the broken door and reported it. Guaranteed. That was why Lock was worried about the cops. So it only made sense to go in with silencers. It didn’t muffle the gunshot completely, so I got the satisfaction of hearing it while watching as the guy’s body jerked. I shot him a couple more times, just to make sure.

“This isn’t a video game,” Lock said, voice dry as the desert sand. “And he’s not a zombie. No need to triple tap him to make sure.”

I grinned over at Lock, suddenly feeling lighter. No wonder Butcher chased this feeling. I was still hoping to go back to normal once I got my life in order. The last thing we needed was two murderous psychos in our club. Oh wait. We had Isla now. Three murderous psychos. I just needed to get some of this frustration out so that I could go back to being the happy go lucky trouble maker. I was better in that role anyway.

Butcher stuck his head out the door, then waved us forward when the coast was clear. We disappeared back into the shadows.

I wasn’t sure where the fuck Brently was, but we’d find him. I had no doubt about that. And once I did, he was going to regret ever setting his sights on Cholla Summit Ranch and Billie.