It hadn’t been hard to convince Jules to go with him. The boy had always liked Callum; trusted him. He wasn’t yet old enough to know that not everyone told the truth. Less than twenty minutes into the drive, Jules had fallen back to sleep, curled up in the passenger seat beneath Callum’s jacket, hugging his puppy who he had refused to leave behind.

Callum had taken the backstreets of the city to avoid traffic delays. Even in the middle of the night, the main city streets were packed. Jules’ initial excitement at going on an adventure with Callum had caused the young man a slight sting of guilt; he hadn’t liked lying to the child. But with all that Adrian had surely told the boy, there was no way Jules would have willingly gone with him if he’d known where Callum was actually taking him.

Uncertainty churned his gut when he thought about what Adrian said. Tazz had told Callum that Jules’ mom had stolen him and ran away. Adrian’s story was different. If Adrian was lying…then where was Jules’ mom?

It doesn’t matter. Your loyalty is to Tazz. You come through this time and he’ll finally see that you’re worthy of his trust. He’ll give you a more important position in the gang.

They wouldn’t hurt Jules—he was Blade’s son. If he wasn’t—like Adrian said—then why wouldn’t they tell Callum? Why would they even want Jules? Had Jules’ mom lied to Adrian and told him Blade wasn’t the boy’s dad?

Callum took them through the city and out the other side. Tazz and the others were waiting for him at an old abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of the city. When Callum pulled up to the rear of the building and turned off the car, he looked at the sleeping child. His uncertainty rekindled as he thought about Jules back at Adrian’s place, how happy and content he had been. But if he was Blade’s son, didn’t the man have a right to his child? Callum found it a little difficult to imagine Blade as a kid person, much less a parent, but that wasn’t his call to make. The retrieval would finally elevate Callum to a higher status within the gang. A status he had been struggling to gain since he’d joined the gang at sixteen.

“Hey,” Callum spoke low and touched Jules’ shoulder. “Jules. Wake up.”

The boy stirred and sat up, small fists rubbing his eyes. “Where are we?”

“Home.”

Jules frowned and looked at the old building.

“Your real home,” Callum clarified. He smiled. “With your dad and Uncle Tazz.”

The boy froze, eyes growing wide. Tears formed and he looked around, suddenly frantic. “No, he’s not my dad,” he cried. “I don’t like them. They’re mean. I wanna go home!” He looked at Callum fearfully. “I wanna go home, Cal! I want Uncle Adrian! Take me home!” He hugged his pup, breaking into sobs.

“It’s…it’s gonna be okay,” Callum assured, his anxiety swelling. “Blade is your dad. He wants you with him.”

“No, he’s not!” Jules cried and buried his face in the dog’s fur, his small body shaking. “Shay is my daddy!”

Shay? Callum had never heard the name before. “Let’s go inside,” he murmured and opened the driver door, his stomach suddenly twisting into a painful knot.

“No!” Jules wailed. “I wanna go home!”

Callum swallowed, affected by the boy’s tears and panic. Callum climbed out and walked around to the passenger side, opening the door. “Come on, bud,” he said. “I promise, it’s going to be okay.”

“No!” Jules screamed when Callum reached for him. “I wanna go home! I hate you! You’re not my friend! I wanna go home!”

“Jules, stop.” Callum trembled, growing anxious. “No one’s going to hurt you.”

“I want Uncle Adrian!” Jules wailed, fighting Callum’s hands as tears streaked his face. “I want Papa Jo and Daddy Tony! Let go!”

The pup grew agitated and anxious, small growls and whimpers rumbling in its chest, appearing as confused and frightened at the boy.

“What in the fuck is going on out here?” Tazz burst out the rear door of the warehouse, face screwed up in fury. “What is all the fucking racket?”

Jules went into a frenzied panic when he saw the man, screaming and crying.

Tazz grabbed Callum and shoved him out of the way then latched onto Jules’ arm. “Boy!” he snapped. “Shut the fuck up rightnow!”

Shaking uncontrollably, Jules went dead silent, terrified eyes dripping tears as he stared at Tazz. His small chest hitched with quick, broken breaths as visible panic consumed him. “I-I wanna go home,” he whispered so small and quiet Callum hardly heard him.

Tazz glared at the child then dragged him out of the car as the boy started crying again. “You are home, you little bastard.”

Callum stood frozen in place, heart pounding as Tazz hoisted the resistant, terrified child into his arms and headed back inside. The pup scrambled out of the car and raced after them, catching up too late as Tazz stepped through the rear entrance and slammed the door in the dog’s face. Deeply muffled from within, Callum heard Jules’ crying out his puppy’s name.

His mind growing numb, Callum retrieved his jacket from the car and walked over to the rear door of the warehouse. The pup whined and clawed frantically at the door. Shakes gripped Callum inside, and he picked up the puppy and entered the structure.

 

♦

 

“We’re going to get him back, and he’s going to be okay.” They were in Clint’s car and the Egyptian sat in the passenger seat, eyes forward, face like granite. Losing Jules would be like losing Shay all over again for Cochise…for all of them.

We’re not going to lose him.

Cochise didn’t speak a word during the drive into the city and Clint suspected he was mentally detailing the torture he would inflict on anyone who laid a finger on their boy. Perhaps also cursing himself for not taking out Callum when he had the chance. But he wouldn’t have done that—not without irrefutable proof that the kid was a real threat and meant them harm. Even then…Clint wasn’t sure the man could do it. Not after Gianni Venetti.

John.

The pain of past crimes surfaced in the Egyptian’s eyes whenever he looked at John, and it was evident he dreaded the day that the truth came out. And it would. It always did, eventually. Clint couldn’t honestly say whether Cochise could harm another kid even if that kid was about to take the man’s life. Though he didn’t doubt the Egyptian would put the fear of hell and damnation in Callum once he caught him.

Clint would damn well help him. He didn’t want to think about how terrified Jules would be once he understood Callum was taking him back to Tazz. The thought of his baby boy so frightened and crying to come home ripped holes in Clint’s heart, and fueled his rage. Even worse was the possible physical harm that might come to Jules at the hands of Tazz and Blade. Jules was the son of another man. A man his mother had “cheated” with—or so, that was how the two men would see it. Would they take out their rage for her on Jules?

I’ll fucking rip you limb from limb, motherfuckers, if you harm one hair on his head.

Cory and Colton were seated at the mini-bar with the other three men when Clint and Cochise arrived. Clint zeroed in on Adrian. “How long has he been gone?”

“I don’t know exactly.” Fear strained Adrian’s voice, radiated all across his face. “Callum went to bed around nine o’clock. I found him gone at about three-thirty, just before we called you. We fell asleep sometime around midnight. So, he took off somewhere between midnight and three-thirty.”

“Do you know where to find your brother?” Clint asked.

“They move around a lot,” Adrian said. “They could be anywhere.”

Cory spoke up. “If this was his plan, do you think they could be nearby? Ready to grab Jules and take off? Do you think they may be right here in the city, or just outside?”

“It makes sense that they would be close.” Adrian nodded.

Angelo stood behind the small bar, having offered no input since Clint and Cochise arrived. Fear masked his face, his eyes distant and troubled. Clint wasn’t sure the man would come back from another loss of this magnitude. Anthony stayed close by his side, offering small comforting touches as he focused his direct attention on the other men.

“I know my brother,” Adrian started then faltered as he glanced at Angelo. He hesitated before continuing. “He wouldn’t get any satisfaction in threatening Jules unless it was for leverage or to hurt someone else.”

Angelo swallowed. “Hurt who?”

“Me, maybe,” Adrian whispered. “Tazz was pissed when I left. When he found out that Jules wasn’t Blade’s son, I think he figured out that I had gone in search of Jules’ real father. And it was me who had helped Shannon run away the first time when she met Shay. Tazz knows how much Jules means to me.”

“Do you think he will contact you?” Clint asked. “Once he has Jules?”

Adrian nodded slowly. “I think he will.”

Moving forward, Angelo looked deeply troubled. “What do you think he will want?”

“I don’t know,” Adrian murmured as his anxious gaze settled on the two men he loved. “He may offer a trade.” He licked his lips. “Jules…for me. Tazz isn’t one to let things go.” He held the uneasy stares of Anthony and Angelo. “If he makes the offer,” he whispered. “Accept it. Get Jules out of there.”

“We will get Jules back,” Cochise spoke low, brittle. “But we’re not handing you over.”

Adrian looked at the Egyptian. “I understand what you’re saying, but-”

“No,” Angelo cut in. “He’s right. There’s no way in hell we’re giving you up.” His eyes began to burn with a fury that overwhelmed his fear. “We will slaughter every fucking one of them before we give up you or Jules.” Tears formed and held. “Every one of them.”

Clint saw it in his enraged stare; he was including that little bastard, Callum.

 

♦

 

“Welcome home, son.” Blade wiped stringy black hair out of his eyes and took a long drag from his cigarette. His dull brown eyes rested heavily on the terrified child. “Miss me?”

Jules cringed away from him, clutching his pup as he quietly sobbed into the animal’s fur. Callum stood back anxiously, watching the two men hovering over the small boy, scaring the hell out of him.

“Answer me, boy,” Blade snapped. “Did you miss your daddy?”

Jules squeezed his eyes shut and clung to his pet desperately, soft cries seeping out of him. Blade scowled and grabbed the pup by the scruff of the neck and wrenched it out of Jules’ arms. The dog yelped, and Jules cried out. “No! Give him back!” Tears wet his flushed cheeks, streaming down in rivers.

“What’s his name?” Blade held the pup in the air by a fistful of skin. The pup whimpered and squirmed.

“Give him back,” Jules choked.

“What’s. His. Name?”

“Cowboy,” Callum answered quietly.

Blade raised narrowed eyes to the young man. “Was I fucking talking to you?”

“Well…it’s just…” Callum glanced at the child. “He’s scared.”

“What’s he fucking scared of?” Blade snarled. “I’m his fucking dad.”

Are you? Callum looked away from his cold stare. He felt sick as he turned his eyes on the traumatized child. What did I do?

“You’re not my daddy,” Jules cried, still reaching for the pup. “You’re not.”

Blade jerked back his free hand to strike the boy and Callum started to yell at him to stop when Tazz caught his wrist, halting him. He shot Blade a stern look then spoke to Jules. “Who told you Blade wasn’t your dad?”

“Uncle Adrian,” Jules whispered, shaking.

“Did Uncle Adrian tell you who your real dad is?”

Jules nodded.

Tazz stared at him thoughtfully. “Grab a sleeping bag,” he told Callum. “And put him to bed.”

When Blade continued to hold the pup, Callum came forward slowly. “Can he have his pup back?”

Smiling darkly, Blade looked the pup over. “He’s pretty plump and juicy. Maybe we’ll fry him up for dinner.”

Jules burst into a crying fit, screaming at him not hurt his puppy.

“Fuck,” Tazz hissed, wincing at the boy’s high-pitched wails. He snatched the pup from Blade and thrust it into Jules’ arms. “Shut the fuck up already.”

Blade snorted. “Maybe we’ll have him for breakfast.”

Hard sobs shook the boy as he clutched the pup in a protective death grip. “No…”

Callum stared at Blade. What a fucking dick. He’d never liked the man. Now, he liked him even less.

“Put him to bed,” Tazz ordered. “And keep him the fuck quiet so the rest of us can sleep.”

Callum gathered up the boy and his pup and carried them to the back of the warehouse. He found a couple sleeping bags and took them into a small room where he made up their beds on the floor. Jules sat huddled against the wall, clinging to Cowboy, tears rolling down his face.

Was it worth it? Destroying a child just so you could move up in the ranks?

Nothing in Tazz’s attitude had changed. There would be no ‘moving up’. Even if there had been…it suddenly didn’t feel so important anymore as he watched Jules tremble in stark fear.

“Come over here,” Callum whispered thickly. “You’ll be warm in the sleeping bag.” The boy hesitated then came to him and crawled inside the sleeping bag with his pup. He didn’t look at Callum, didn’t speak to him. You’re not my friend! I hate you! Callum blinked as tears formed. “I’m sorry, Jules,” he choked quietly. “I’m so sorry.”