Hers (Blood Ties Book 2)
Hers: Chapter 14

My brother was silent…too fucking silent. We sat parked in the dark, hidden by the towering trees of the forest. The Jeep’s engine was idling, but the headlights were out, leaving us all but invisible from the compound on the other side of the road.

I scanned the fence line, watching for movement. The Order was well protected, too fucking well. The guards patrolled at intervals. One team checked the fences, while another patrolled the inner grounds. Even if we knew where they were keeping Ryth, we’d be found before we got anywhere near the damn buildings.

Tension clenched my gut, sending a stab of pain through my side. I winced and pressed my hand against the fresh dressing as T shoved the four-wheel drive into reverse and backed up.

Red brake lights flared in the dark as we slowed, turned, then surged forward. T waited until we were far enough away before he hit the headlights and lit up the dirt track. He said nothing, just drove while I pressed my hand against my side and held on.

There was no way in there, not without abducting a guard, torturing him for information, then taking him out. I thought of money, but a bribe would take too fucking long…and we didn’t have time to waste. Every second she was in that place was a second too long.

The odds of getting one of the guards on their own were slim. Still, I thought about that as we headed back to the city. Only we didn’t head home. Instead, we made for the seedy suburbs of the south. I glanced at T as he headed for the strip, slowing when the punks pulled up beside us in their Lamborghinis and revved their engines.

But Tobias didn’t seem to notice or care. He stared straight ahead, jaw clenched, fists tight around the wheel. Headlights splashed against his face, making his dark eyes look even darker than they were. He looked haunted…no; he looked fucking dangerous.

He was slipping from us, falling into that dark place.

Still, we slowly made our way south, leaving the street-racing punks and the glittering lights of the city’s heart behind. But with each turn, it felt like he was heading somewhere. Somewhere he didn’t really want to go. So we took the back streets and roundabouts, dancing around the more dangerous and seedier suburbs, until I couldn’t hold back anymore. “Want to tell me where we’re headed, brother?”

“I might have a contact that can get us inside,” T murmured. “But I haven’t seen him in a while.”

I jerked my gaze his way. “You do? Why the fuck didn’t you say that before?”

T said nothing. But it wasn’t a pissed off nothing…it was a concerned nothing. Like he wasn’t sure about this at all. We turned toward the back streets of Penance, where the bikers occupied the backyard warehouses and shopping centers were overrun with street gangs. Four punks on ATVs pulled out behind us. I caught the movement in the side mirror, and that sinking feeling hit hard.

“When we get there, Nick, you say nothing. Got that?” T pulled into the shabby mall and headed for the underground graffiti ruined parking garage. “Don’t ask questions, don’t make small talk…especially small talk. You stay quiet, leave the talking to me.”

T handled the Jeep, pulling in past the shattered boom gate and the trashed security booth. I scanned the area, spotting a brand new black Escape parked sideways at the rear of the lot. Three guys on sport motorbikes were parked, watching us as we neared.

These didn’t look like just any punks, especially not in a place like this. A cold feeling swept through me at the sight. “Want to tell me who the hell those guys are?” I scanned them, replaceing three more guys standing further back.

“No one you want to know,” T answered, pulling up hard. “Wait in the car. We’re not staying long.”

He climbed out, leaving the engine idling, and walked over to the guy leaning against the Escape. I glanced at the side mirror, catching movement further back. Three guys watched from behind the parked cars in the distance. Guys who sat astride Harleys, wearing MC patches. Who the fuck were those guys?

The asshole from the Escape gave T a patdown, then stepped away. They spoke, saying words I couldn’t quite hear, until the guy turned his head and motioned to the bikers at the rear.

The bikes started with a throbbing roar. The others climbed onto their motorbikes as T just turned and headed my way once more. I said nothing when he slipped in behind the wheel, waiting until we were headed out again. “T, you want to fill me in here?”

“They can get us in.”

That’s all he said.

“Get us in,” I repeated, watching an Audi swing in hard behind us. “At what cost?”

He didn’t answer, which was an answer itself. That cold feeling burrowed deeper inside me as we followed the guys on the Harleys out of the mall and east on Penance.

East where no one went. No one who wanted to stay alive, anyway. I winced and jerked my gaze to T. There was no way he knew the kind of men who occupied these kinds of streets. No way he even moved anywhere near the kind of blood-drenched circles these men did. No fucking way…

Not my kid brother.

The Escape overtook us on the bend, engine gunning, dark tinted windows rolled down, the driver glaring at me as he passed. T followed to where the low-income housing spread out to the east. There were watchers on the corners. Guys straddling bikes, others in sleek, dark rides. The expensive kind. We drove to some kind of an empty lot with a towering fence and a heavy, locked gate and waited while the driver of the Escape climbed out and casually made his way to the lock, working the keys old school style. Then he got back into his ride and led us further.

The worn path led to a set of warehouses in the distance. Three steel mountains backed against nearby derelict houses. The dirt track kept going past the warehouse, giving those inside multiple exit points. Seemed strategic, smart. T shoved the Jeep into gear and followed the Ford, leaving the asphalt behind. I winced and held my breath as we jolted and rocked, making our way to the front of one warehouse.

The driver of the Escape parked and climbed out, waiting until T killed the engine. I followed my brother, holding my side as I stepped out and slammed the door behind me.

“Remember, let me do the talking,” T muttered as I headed around the front of the Jeep and followed him to the door.

Sickening howls of agony came from inside. There were dogs, and a lot of them. Fighting, killing something, by the sounds of it, something small and terrified. I clenched my jaw with the pain and ducked under the roller door as it lifted. But the moment I stepped inside, I wanted out.

Right the fuck…now.

The stench of shit and piss and blood hit me like a fucking chainsaw. Two massive pitbulls were attacking a single dark puppy within a bloodstained pit. I caught flashes of tan streaked by blood. The closer we came, the more I realized what this was. Sport. This was a fucking sport. “What the fuck?”

T shot me a glare, one that said two words: say nothing.

A group of pathetic pieces of shit yelled and screamed, cheering the bloodbath on. I couldn’t look…I didn’t fucking want to, but there was something about those howls of agony that echoed somewhere deep inside.

The howls went silent. The disappointed screams from those gutless bastards made me want to tear them apart, piece by rotten piece. I had to force my gaze from the tiny bloody form in the middle of the pit as two of the men climbed inside and tethered the Pitbulls with chains and muzzles. Money changed hands. The sight of it made me want to throw up as one of the brutes neared that still, tiny form, gave it a kick, then bent, grabbed the puppy by the hind legs, and tossed it over the fence, where it landed on the concrete floor with a sickening thud.

I was wrong.

This wasn’t sport. This was just fucking bloodlust.

“T,” I growled, tearing my gaze from that tiny form lying so still on the floor.

“You want in?” T growled, casting me a glare. “Then shut your fucking mouth.”

He lengthened his stride, heading for the brightly lit office in the back. I scanned the warehouse, making sure I saw every ugly motherfucker in there. I wanted to make sure I knew who to take out when I returned.

“Tobias,” the asshole behind the desk murmured as he leaned back in his chair. His legs were crossed, boots in the middle of his desk. But there was nothing relaxed about him. The man was a snake, and he showed that with the flicker of annoyance, like the man was about to strike. “Last time I saw you, T, you told me you weren’t interested in the game. What changed?”

“The right motivation,” Tobias answered.

The guy didn’t speak, just watched him while the dogs started growling and barking further back in the warehouse.

“Nice place,” I muttered.

A slow, sly smile crept across the asshole’s face as he slowly turned his head, giving me his focus for the first time since we’d walked in. “Interested in placing a bet?”

I swallowed my rage and tasted acid. “Not particularly.”

The smile was cold, a fucking mask, as he shifted his gaze to my brother. “Why are you here, T?”

“The guards at the Order. They look like your men.”

He gave a careful shrug.

“I want in.”

“You want in?”

Tobias stayed silent. I watched the two, growing even more desperate to replace out how the fuck T knew these assholes. It had to be Lazarus. There was no doubt about that, but I was surprised that even the Rossis stooped so low.

“Jackson,” the dog killer called.

The heavy thud of boots came behind me. I didn’t turn, didn’t shift my gaze from the man in charge.

“Yeah, boss?”

“Tobias here wants in on the guard duty at Hale. You got a spot for him?”

“Can he hold his own?’

“I dunno.” He stared at my brother. “Can you hold your own?”

“You tell me, Amo,” Tobias answered, his tone hard.

I waited for the tension to break, for the asshole T called Amo to break out in laughter and give us exactly what we wanted, a way into the Order to get Ryth out.

“Guess there’s only one way to replace out.” Amo gave a nod to Jackson, then leveled a look at T. “We’re short a man for a job.”

I stiffened and jerked my gaze to my brother. “A job?’

“What do you think, T?” he continued, not once looking my way. “Gotta prove yourself, brother.”

I didn’t like this two-bit gansta, didn’t like him at all, and I sure as fuck didn’t like him calling T his goddamn kin. T looked from Amo to me, then slowly nodded.

“You don’t have to do this,” I murmured.

“He does if he wants a spot on the team.” Amo slid his feet from his desk and rose, walking around the desk.

“It’s okay, Nick,” Tobias growled as he turned away.

Fuck that. I started after him. “Then I’m coming too.”

“Nick.” Amo placed his hand on my arm as the two assholes from the fighting ring stepped in front of me, cutting me off from my brother.

I didn’t give a fuck who this guy was, or if I pissed him off. All I cared about was watching T stride toward the rising rolled door, going where and doing what I didn’t know.

I jerked my arm away. “Get the fuck off me.” I stepped around the dog-killing piece of shit. “Tobias!”

T glanced my way as he disappeared under the door. The engine of the Escape roared to life. Headlights flared a second later, casting shadows across his face.

My brother looked like a stranger as he left. I shifted my gaze to that still, lifeless little body on the concrete floor as fear found me once more. What the hell had we done?