SEVEN
Madness drives a lust for death to my mind that craves retribution.
~ Styx Fuller
Things are moving at the speed of light with Savannah. I haven’t slept alone since our first hook-up. She’s got more stamina than the Energizer bunny, and she’s wild, crazy, and funny as hell. Her beauty is the cherry on the top of my fucking German chocolate cake. I can’t imagine not seeing her again. She’s wiggled her way under my skin, and I’m not letting her go until I’m ready.
Beads of sweat trickle down my spine. The sun’s blazing hot as it descends on the horizon. Escaping the heat and getting lost in blondie is top on my list of things to do later on. I’ve been on Ella duty for the last four hours. Currently, she and my baby are making their way outta the TMC for a run. Fuck, she looks good wearing only a skimpy little sports bra and those tight-as-fuck yoga pants that cling to her, leaving nothing to my vivid imagination. I don’t have to imagine. I know every nook and cranny of her gorgeous body. I’ve mapped it out with my tongue and fingers. I shift, adjusting myself thinking about last night and the bottle of honey we shared. She is delicious.
Noise in the distance grabs my attention from ogling Savannah’s bending and stretching, when a rowdy crowd of the hospital staff leave for the day. Checking the progress of my charges, I note they are no longer stationary and have begun their run. I take a deep breath and prepare to follow. At least it’s those damn suicide drills the sergeant in basic had me doing every time I opened my smart-ass mouth. Guess I’ll be doing a different kind of exercise.
I’m situated on the other side of the road when a white unmarked van obscures my view of the ladies. I pick up my pace almost to a jog when the vehicle slows down beside them and stops. I’m a good fifty yards away from them. Uneasiness has me hasten my steps in their direction. In slow motion, two masked perps jump out of the side door and grab them. For a second, my entire world stands still.
“Savannah! Ella!” I shout, running full throttle toward them.
The kidnappers are fast and precise. Professionals, judging by their accurate moves. Before I so much as blink, the women are thrown in the van, the door slams shut, and it’s swerving from side to side, speeding down the main road. I’m fortunate to catch a glimpse of the digits from the license plate before it turns the corner out of my sight. The numbers are branded into my brain. I hang my head and cringe, rubbing the tense muscles in my neck. Ambushed and taken in a foreign country. Locating them without a ransom will be about as easy as finding a needle in a haystack.
Fuck. Grayson is going to kick my ass. Fuck. I want to kick my own ass for losing the women. I was right there and let them slip through my fingers. Shit.
I take the phone out and make the call, dreading the upcoming conversation. My brain wreaks havoc, playing all kinds of unwelcome, horrific scenarios. None of them resulting in a good outcome.
“Go ahead.”
“Grayson, we’ve got a problem.”
It’s been forty-eight hours, and nothing. Not one damn lead. The van was abandoned and dumped south of the abduction site. License plate led to a fucking dead end. Ransom hasn’t been requested. My mind is going nuts with fear of the unknown. Why didn’t I stop the van? I should have done more. The split-second decision weighs heavy. But there were too many variables of hurting the women in the process. It wasn’t worth the risk.
We’re all sitting around the conference room table when Beauty’s cell phone goes off. When his eyes widen with surprise, Grayson motions for him to use the hands-free option. Ella’s monotone voice reads the kidnapper’s demands, then a voice on the line distorted with some type of equipment taunts us with brutal promises and disconnects the call. Rage consumes me. I didn’t protect them. God only knows the hell they are suffering because of me, because of my fucking negligence and lustful daydreaming.
I can’t deal with this shit. I need air. I push up and out of the chair, pacing the room like a caged animal searching for an exit. Johnny catches my attention and slowly nods, anger simmering in his gaze. His message is clear—retrieve and destroy. He’s got my back.
Nobody but Johnny understands the dilemma I’m dealing with. Grayson has been so caught up in securing Ella, we haven’t had time to talk. Savannah’s my woman. Our relationship started off with a bang. We clicked, are cut from the same cloth. If anything happens to her or Ella due to my lack of competence, I’ll never be able to live with myself.
I leave the room and pace the hall. A few minutes later, I hear the door open and close.
“You’re gonna wear a trail in the floor if you don’t slow down,” Johnny jokes.
“Can’t stop. I keep seeing her body being flung like a fucking rag doll into the van.” I grip my hair and yank. The self-induced pain helps. “She was putting up a hell of a fight until that son of a bitch knocked her upside the head. She’s a fighter.”
“Agreed. They both are. Together, they have a better chance to escape or survive.”
“Yeah, that’s my biggest fear. She’ll throw herself under a bus to protect Ella.”
“You wouldn’t want her any other way. It was one of the things that attracted you to her. Loyalty goes a long way, brother. C’mon, let’s go grab some grub and get back in there before Grayson gets back.”
We’re halfway down the steps when Grayson blasts around the corner, running like the devil himself is on his heels.
“Where’s Beauty?” he demands.
“Just left. Why?” Johnny asks as we follow him into the command center.
“I’ll explain it soon. Suffice it to say, a little birdie delivered some intel we need to check out ASAP,” he replies, continuing his sprint into the building.
Moments later, I’m watching the women’s abduction in slow motion on the screen when Radar freezes the frame. My vision blurs, and all I see is motherfucking red. Balling my fists to keep from punching the table, I leap from the chair and move closer to the image. It’s clear as day. Beauty’s bowie knife tattoo is staring me in the face. He’s been under my nose all this time. The fucking sleeper. And he’s got my woman.
He’s the one we’ve been chasing our tails in circles looking for all these months, playing us for fools. Everything makes sense. The dead ends. The ambush where we almost didn’t make it out alive. Grayson taking a hit in the shoulder. Aabdar’s assassination. Beauty’s the reason. We’ve found our Judas. A plan is set to catch the rat.
I’m sipping coffee trying to stay awake. Radar, Johnny, and I have been following the trail Beauty left for us most of the night. Now that we know who we’re looking for.
“They could be anywhere,” Johnny says and releases a frustrated sigh.
“True, but my gut is telling me they’re close—under our nose. He’s been able to move back and forth at ease without any of us realizing he’s missing.” Radar yawns, typing away at the keyboard in front of him.
“Hey, man, why don’t you take an hour. Get some sleep. We’ll stay here and contact you the minute any news comes in,” Johnny offers.
“Yeah. I’m going crossed-eyed staring at this screen.” He chuckles and stands. “And the coffee stopped working yesterday. Be back in an hour.” Radar shuffles out the door.
“How you handling this mess, Pete? You gonna make it?” Johnny inquires.
“Fuck. I told you never to call me by that name. I’m not sure. Just can’t wrap my head around it. My insides are churning. I’m running on fumes. I just wanna blow something the hell up. I can’t stop blaming myself. Should’ve hung closer when they were out in the open. Never would have believed she was in danger.”
“Look, bro, you can’t change what’s in the past. Ain’t gonna happen. You don’t have a magic time machine or something, do you? Didn’t think so. Quit beating yourself up. You need to focus on getting her back. You’ve really fallen for her, haven’t you?”
I shrug and look away. “Savannah isn’t just beautiful—she’s smart, witty, and well, let’s just say she gets my craziness and embraces it. We click.”
He shakes his head. “Hmm. Never took you as one of them.”
I’m about to ask him what the hell that means when Grayson strolls in wanting a status update. My temper flares when I’m reminded that Badahar is somehow connected to Mustaff.
“I will kill every last one of those bastards if they’ve touched Savannah. No way will they get away from me,” I promise storming out of the room.
I need to recharge and get ready.
As the minute hand ticks away on the clock hanging on the wall, we wait for Beauty to return. Radar sent him a text about a mandatory pow wow. He should be here any moment.
Grayson tenses and waves his phone. The email displays a picture on the screen, and I stop breathing. It’s my woman. Her body has been savagely beaten, almost beyond recognition. She’s balled up on her side without a stitch of clothing on. Bruises and knife marks mar her once milky skin. I’m not sure she’s even alive. A war chant begins deep in my gut. I’m driven to madness as I slam my hand down on the table and shove my chair against the wall. I’ve lost my sanity, and the only things holding me back from destroying everything in the room are Johnny and Doc.
I want revenge. I want them to suffer unimaginable pain at my hands for doing this to her. My chest is heaving up and down as I draw in quick intakes of air. I need to calm the fuck down.
The mission.
Save the women.
Kill the motherfuckers who did this to them.
In. Out. In. Out. I accomplish the task of gaining control and look up at Grayson, who has moved into position right in front of me.
“You in a good enough place to finish this mission?” Grayson stoically asks.
“Let’s light ‘em, Captain,” I demand, walking out to grab my gear. I’m going to light the sky like it’s the Fourth of fucking July in America. Vengeance is my friend.
“Hey. Wait a sec, Styx.” I vaguely hear Johnny. My mind is racing with the prospect of strangling the life outta Beauty. I need my bowie knife. I’m gonna flay him alive, piece by piece. He’s fucked up if he believes he’s getting away. Today, he’s going to meet his maker, courtesy of my knife and signature TNT cocktail.
“Styx, slow the fuck down.”
Johnny rushes behind me and grabs my wrist. I pivot around fast and loosen the connection. I have him up against the wall, my hand around his throat, and I growl.
“Don’t get in my way, brother. We’ve been through a lot. So you know I don’t need you holding me back. Stand beside or behind me, but get the fuck outta my way. This is personal. I’ve assessed the risks, and I know the stakes. I’m going to get my woman back.”
“Sounds fair. Just save me a piece of the no-good fuckwad.”
I acknowledge him with a nod.
I’m a soldier, suiting up for the battle of my life.
Hang in there, blondie. I’m coming for you.