Page 23 of Unbound By You (The Viper’s MC #1)

SILAS

“ W hat do you mean she’s not here, Lexi?”

I glare down at my little sister as she casually picks up the remote and unpauses whatever brain-rotting show she’d been watching like my question is just background noise.

“Were you dropped on your head too many times as a baby?” she shoots back without missing a beat. “It means she’s not here. She left. About forty-five minutes ago. And before you ask, no, I don’t know where she went. Jesus, maybe you two really were made for each other.”

I drag a twitching hand down my face, barely restraining the curse bubbling up in my throat. If she’s not here, where the tracker led me, then she found it. She probably peeled it off and stuck it on Lexi’s car. My clever, clever girl.

While I was running around the compound like a headless chicken, dealing with fallen brothers, she was worrying about the only blood family I have left. That realization slices through my chest. Lexi was her first thought and my brothers were mine. Lex deserves better than that.

I should have pushed Branson harder to hack into Harlow’s phone sooner. But now he's gone, and that option's off the table.

If she’s not here, then there’s only one other place she might go. Convenient, really, since I’ve been meaning to visit that particular asshole. Two birds, one stone, and all that.

“I’m leaving someone to watch the door,” I tell Lexi, eyes drifting to the piece—Harlow’s, no doubt—resting casually on the coffee table in front of her. When I’d pounded on the front door earlier, at least she’d had it in her hand when she opened it.

“Whatever.” She barely spares me a glance, shifting to see the screen around my body.

I stalk back to the parking lot, taking in how rundown the place is. I never knew Harlow owned property this far out, but judging by the barren interior, it’s not somewhere she spends much time.

I nod toward Pierce, who peels himself off his bike and meets me at the bottom of the stairs. He’s quieter now, more reserved. That wild, just-barely-holding-it-together look in his eyes has been replaced by something darker. Haunted.

“Yeah?” he asks, voice low.

“I need you to head up to the second floor, third door on your right. Keep an eye on things. Stay outside, and don’t let the person inside leave unless it’s with me or Harlow.”

His brows knit together as he gives me a questioning look, his mouth opening like he’s about to argue. I know he wants in on what’s coming, but right now I need someone here with Lexi. That haunted look in his eyes hits me like a freight train, and I know he’s not ready for what’s planned.

Before he can get a word out, I raise my hand to cut him off, trying to keep things calm. “This is important. Please.”

He exhales hard, then reaches behind his back. A second later, he hands me a black phone.

“What’s this?”

“Branson’s phone. I took the passcode off. There’s a solid red app on the last page. Click it.”

I follow his instructions, and the screen lights up with a series of camera feeds. I swipe through quickly, but the second to last blurry image grabs my attention.

“I figured you were heading over there since she didn’t come down with you,” he says. “Lo and Branson rigged that place with cameras over the years. You’ll have eyes pretty much anywhere. A couple only kick on once you’re within a few hundred yards.”

“Thanks, man. Let me know if anything comes up here, alright?”

“Yeah, you got it.”

C hopper falls into step beside me, taking my lead without question, and the rest follow suit in a loose formation, keeping an eye on our surroundings.

When we reach the edge of Macon’s property, hidden by the greenery behind the iron gate, I stop and pull out Branson’s phone to access the cameras.

I spend a couple of minutes clicking through the feeds, scanning angles, and trying to get a sense of how many people might be inside. Then I see it, Harlow’s bike, parked front and center, caught by a hidden camera tucked somewhere along the driveway. That’s all the confirmation I need.

Time to move.

I gesture, sending three guys flanking wide to the left and two more circling to the right.

Chopper’s got the most critical task of finding Candice and her nurse before safely getting them out.

He’ll take them back to my place in the van, where they’ll be safe while Harlow and I handle these assholes.

After that, it’s on me to keep my promise to Harlow. I’ll make damn sure Macon is out of her life for good and that her mom isn’t left in the lurch once he’s gone.

This time, I don’t bother knocking and waiting for one of Macon’s terrified staff members to open the door with their blank stares and forced politeness. I let myself in.

My boots slap against the pristine marble floors, echoing down the long hallway like an alarm bell. I make a straight line toward the same room I found him in last time with Harlow.

The corridor is quiet outside his door. No, hushed whispers or yelling, as I’d expect from the hot-headed woman with my last name. I draw my piece before reaching the door, my finger resting just outside the trigger guard. Then, with a sharp shove, I push the door open.

Macon doesn’t even flinch. He’s seated behind his massive mahogany desk like a king holding court, but the room is empty. A smug smile plays across his lips as he looks up at me.

“Had a feeling you’d show up sooner or later.”

“How astute of you,” I reply coldly. “Now, where is she? I know she’s here. Her bike’s parked out front.”

He doesn't answer, ignoring my onslaught as he rises slowly. It’s as if he has all the time in the world.

He rounds the desk and leans casually against the front edge, arms folded, posture relaxed with crossed legs.

He’s either oblivious to the fact that I’m standing a few feet in front of him with a loaded weapon pointed in his direction, or he really feels like he has the upper hand.

“How predictable,” he spits, eyeing me up and down. “So desperate to claim what was never yours to have.”

That hits a nerve. She was never his to give away like a crown jewel to ripen a bargain. My grip on the gun tightens.

“Careful,” I say, my voice low and dangerous. “I’m already going to have a hard time dragging this out after everything you’ve done.”

Macon raises his hands slightly, but it’s a mocking surrender. A man like him doesn’t fear men like me—the dirt beneath his three-hundred-dollar loafers.

Fabric brushes against my shoulder. Vik and Tank take up either side, staring down the man I promised them a little alone time with. But first, I need to know where Harlow is. Either he’s got her chained up somewhere, or she’s gone and out of my reach again.

Vik leans in, whispering an, “all clear,” and anticipation ripples through me.

I step toward the man I can’t wait to have bleeding under my blade, but for now, I force his chin up with the muzzle of my gun. “Where is she, Macon?”

His throat bobs as he swallows but doesn’t answer. The steel connects with his cheek, and blood splatters across the cream-colored carpet.

“You see, I could do this all day,” I say, calm as ever. “Actually, it’s quite literally my job. Much like the one you forced Harlow into.”

The door creaks behind me, followed by the heavy thud of boots stopping at my back.

“The problem is, I have a feeling you and I aren’t going to get as much one-on-one time as I’d hoped. Because my brothers want in on the action too for the men your little temper tantrum took from us.”

This time, his eyes flicker with fear. He tries to mask it, standing a bit taller and raising his chin, but I’ve seen this show too many times over the years. I don’t miss the slight twitch. The truth always hides in the eyes.

“The crazy thing about the human body,” I continue, “is that it can withstand a hell of a lot of pain, especially when it’s flooded with adrenaline.

Right now, that process is kicking in. But eventually, it’ll fade.

And when it does, the pain will hit you all at once.

Sometimes, it’s enough to pull you under.

” I lean in, voice dropping, “But we wouldn’t want you blacking out and missing all the fun. ”

I give his chest a condescending little pat.

“So, my friend Fingers over there has a nice, full vial of something that’ll ensure you stay with us for every... last... second.”

Fingers steps forward, pulling a syringe from his pocket, a little excited bounce in his step. At the same time, Vik circles behind Macon’s desk. Then, in a blur of movement, they strike. Macon’s slammed back down against the desk, and the needle’s shoved into his neck without an ounce of care.

He jerks, muscles twitching, but the others are already on him. They haul him upright and secure him to the chair as I step aside, watching like the composer at the symphony.

Dragging the chair to the center of the room, they surround him like wolves circling prey, ready to rip him apart piece by piece.

Through the anticipation coating the air, I step forward and pull Branson’s phone from my pocket. With a few taps, I bring up the live feed from Macon’s office and rewind the footage. I hadn’t stopped earlier to figure out if I could do so, and now, for the first time, I see it unfold.

There she is, her beautiful mane of dark hair tied up and out of the way. Macon’s eyes rake across her body, predatory and vile. Her expression is stone, unmoved by his attention as he leans in and whispers something into her ear before leaving the room.

My finger gets antsy on the trigger of my pistol, still at my side.

Then, it happens. Two men step in from the shadows.

They grab her from behind, and a black bag is thrown over her head.

She kicks and tries to drop to the ground to give herself a better chance to escape their grasp.

But then she’s gone, dragged out of the room, and I want to follow her from the other cameras I know are around.

But it’s the man who follows that instantly boils my blood.

He pauses at the doorway, scanning the room. Then he steps back, right up to where the camera must be hidden. He finds it locks eyes with the lens and winks before strolling out of Macon’s office like it’s any other day.

I let out a dark laugh and the room stills. Every set of eyes swings to me.

“Who would’ve thought this day could get any better?” I say, smiling like I mean it.

“Fingers. Tank. You stay here and deal with him.” I nod toward Macon, now slack-jawed in the chair, sweat already dotting his hairline. “Make sure you get that paperwork signed before he’s too far gone and too bloody to hold a pen.”

I turn to the rest of them.

“The rest of you, you’re with me. We’ve got a wildcat to free.”