Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 67651 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 338(@200wpm)___ 271(@250wpm)___ 226(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67651 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 338(@200wpm)___ 271(@250wpm)___ 226(@300wpm)
“One.”
“Kenna, we can’t. Don’t be stupid.”
“Two.” I am not going to argue with her, at least not until we’re clear of these psychopaths.
Her shoulders fall in resignation, and I take a step forward, certain she’s going to follow me. “I can’t.”
“Three.” I walk behind her and hook my arms under her armpits until she’s on her feet, and I push her forward.
“Go. Up the stairs, one at a time. That’s it,” I encourage her. Kelsey’s legs shake violently, and I shove ahead of her because it’s easier to pull her behind me until we reach the top of the stairs. With my ear against the door, I close my eyes and listen for any movement on the other side. There’s nothing.
“Let’s go. Run for the first door you see.”
Kelsey nods, but I’m terrified she’ll freeze at the wrong moment. “Okay.”
I push the door open slowly and peek around it to see a living room with nothing but a recliner with a tray table beside it and a plastic crate with an ashtray full of cigarette butts on the other side. Whoever sits there has left. Just past the chair, I spot the front door.
“Run straight, Kels. Stay close. Go!”
We dart across the living room on tiptoes and stop at the door. As quietly as I can, I disengage all three locks and yank the door open to the outside. We made it. I fumble with the screen door because my hands shake like a leaf, but I get it open and step onto the porch with a satisfied smile.
The sound of a gun cocking steals my breath, but the feel of a gun against my head—again—stops my heart.
“Going somewhere, mija?”
Fuck! We were so fucking close.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Ace
Too much time has passed. That’s the only thought going through my head hours after McKenna and Kelsey are taken. It’s taking us too damn long to find them, which increases the chances of worst fucking case scenario.
“Anything, Wild Man?”
Wilder shakes his head without looking up from whatever he’s doing on that fucking computer.
“I’m done scanning all the properties in Hector’s name, and they aren’t at any of them. Our guys have checked out every last location of theirs in and around Angel Harbor. The girls aren’t there.”
“This is bullshit,” Coop growls. “They have to be somewhere. Where the fuck are they?”
He’s losing his mind, and I don’t blame him. I saw what Hector did to Kelsey the first time around, and I don’t want to think about what he’ll do now.
“If I get a shot, Ace, I’m taking it.” I can see it in his eyes. He means every damn word.
“You won’t hear me arguing about it. Anyone who gets a shot on Hector, take it and don’t fucking miss.”
Joaquin strolls into the clubhouse with a few pizzas in his hands. His dark brows furrowed, and his mouth pinched tight with worry.
“I got food. How’s the search going?” His confidence makes me smile. I’m glad we patched him in.
“Not good,” Wild Man shoots back with a frustrated sigh. “It’s like they just fucking disappeared.”
“Hector is a piece of shit, not a magician. Have you checked out their crates at the port?”
I can see Joaquin’s mind racing, and I stare, wondering where the fuck this serious version has been all these months.
“Of course, I checked the port. The cameras didn’t pick up shit.”
Joaquin sighs. “Look for Iron Kings entering on something other than a bike. Something you can just roll up to a shipping crate and unload without the cameras catching shit.” He angrily slaps two slices of pizza on a paper plate and drops it beside Wild Man’s laptop.
“Think,” I growl. “What do we know about Hector besides the psychopath piece of shit stuff?”
“He’s desperate, and he’s scared,” Shades offers. “And the dumb fuck probably learned his lesson from the last time. If he keeps them in Angel Harbor, we’ll burn the place down to find them. It’s not safe for him.”
Joaquin nods. “You’re right, boss. Back in my banger days, we’d run hostage rackets and hold them in a house inside someone else’s territory, so if shit went bad, it wouldn’t fall on us.”
The hate in his voice when he speaks of his days as a gangbanger is still there.
“Just check LA or Long Beach, someplace that’s just far enough away to be inconvenient.”
Wild Man is on it, his fingers flying over the keyboard with speed I can’t even fathom.
Nova stands, a strained expression on his face. “I’m gonna go get a bag packed for…whatever we might need.”
Coop nods. “I’m off to the armory to get supplies. Text me any suggestions,” he growls. “Grenades. Flamethrowers, whatever will do the most fucking damage.”
Morale is low, and once again, I wish Dix was here. I’m the planner, the logistics man, not the cheerleader. That’s his job.