Chapter Twenty-four

Jonas knew as soon as Simon showed up. He watched on the cameras as Simon put his car in park and chewed on the inside of his lip while he came up with a plan. His mouth moved occasionally, but Jonas didn’t have audio on the cameras and couldn’t pick up who he was talking to or what he was saying, so he just imagined it.

The Pierce guys were smart but not smart enough. Jonas was sure he was communicating with the rest of his team via some mic communications. He spoke into his walkie-talkie.

“When they get here, they’ll have a comm system to disable. Be sure you get that.”

“Roger.”

He went back to watching. Simon Pierce was cool and collected, sorting all the information in his head before making a move. It wouldn’t matter. Jonas had a mindfuck planned for him, and it would be epic.

One of those moldy-oldie songs Julia used to love came on the radio. He turned it up before talking to Bonnie, who was hogtied on the bed in the sleeper.

“This was Julia’s favorite. She used to sing it in the shower.” He hummed along while reminiscing. When Julia had first shown up on his steps with her mother, Dad had been so proud of them—his two new girls—he’d crowed. And it had been love at first sight for Jonas. His new stepsister had been everything to his fifteen-year-old self. And she had reciprocated.

All the sneaking around while their parents had been on dates and stuff had that whole taboo aspect that turned both of them on. The loss of their virginities had led to more intense stuff, experiments with bondage and pain. Jonas and Julia. It had been a beautiful affair, and the senator had seemed to encourage it with his unwillingness to acknowledge it.

“Love at first sight,” he was speaking to Bonnie again. “Do you even know what that means?” Bonnie’s eyes widened with fright, and Jonas felt his erection stirring to life. The similarities between Bonnie and Julia were eerie. At first, when he’d seen Bonnie walking into the intro to psychology class they’d shared, he really thought she was Julia. His Julia, who’d disappeared. There were times when he still couldn’t tell the difference between them—like now.

He’d hogtied Julia like this, and she’d loved it. The fear in her eyes had been nearly identical to the woman currently in the sleeper of his truck. He was tempted to go back there and play and see if her tits were like Julia’s, too, but knew if he got distracted, he would blow this operation.

And he had the Pierce boys in his sights. He couldn’t let them go now.

“Be patient, my sweet. Soon, we’ll have all the time in the world.” Julia’s wide, brown eyes looked back at him in the mirror he’d set up to watch the sleeper compartment behind him, and she began struggling. Jonas blinked hard and looked again. Bonnie’s eyes stared back at him, full of fear and an unnatural duplicate of Julia’s. That was why he’d become obsessed with Bonnie and had to fucking have her.

It would have had him back there with her in a heartbeat, except movement on his laptop had him looking at the camera feed again.

They were here.

Clicking on the walkie-talkie, he said, “Back entrance. Get them.”

“Roger, boss.”

He watched as his men and the rest of the Pierce boys got into a small firefight before the Pierce boys were overpowered and shoved into the back of his truck. That’s what happened when you had a small army of mercenaries on the payroll.

“Perfect. Okay, get into positions and let’s get ready to roll.”

He looked over to Lacie, who had been silent next to him this entire time. When she’d woken from the drug, she’d simply watched him, as if afraid of what he would do. She should be. He was going to do it all.

But first, he had shit to blow up, men to sell, and a vendetta to settle.

He yanked the truck into gear and pulled out of the lot.

“Let’s roll.”

Simon listened, helpless, as his team fell apart in an ambush.

“Coming around this trailer—ugh.” He lost communication with Evan, who was not at all combat trained.

“I got your six,” from Ryan. “Uf!” Ryan was combat trained, minimally so, but one of his better fighters. Simon felt sick.

“Y’all pull out. Now.” They needed to regroup ASAP, but they either ignored him or didn’t hear him.

“They’re putting them into trucks.” Jordan, the Marine, the guy best able to tactically handle himself, was taken out next. That left Dex. An agonizing howl told him Dex was out. Minimal gunfire.

This was bad.

And the whole time, he’d been watching a yard full of 18-wheelers parked, looking impotent yet ominous.

One by one, they started up with a rumble, until the deafening roar of tractor-trailer motors surrounded him. Then they started moving.

All but one.

Simon knew this was a trap, but without knowing anything anymore—only that his girl was probably in one of these trucks, as well as his team, his sister, his remaining family—Simon could only react.

He jumped out of his car and ran to the remaining truck, climbing in and starting it up to follow.

The trucks filed out of the lot, heading onto Ben White Boulevard toward the interstate. He knew what would happen next. The trucks would split up and he’d have a decision to make. He got on his phone and called Deena Rae.

“I’m in a convoy of tractor trailers headed toward I35. Pretty sure they’ll split up, but I’ll follow the ones going south, need you to follow the ones going north.” He was glad she hadn’t broken into song at the word convoy, as Deena Rae was just that irreverent. Apparently, the seriousness of the situation was rubbing off on her.

“Gotcha. What do you want Zack to do?”

“Call the cops. Nguyen and the FBI have a task force for this case, and this is the evidence they need that Jonas is involved. I haven’t seen him yet, but I think I remember Evan talking about a transport offshoot of his shell companies. This is it. He’s taking them to Mexico.”

He was guessing, but it felt right. If anything, Simon knew to trust his gut, and his gut was telling him the trucks he wanted would be headed to the border.

True enough, at I35, his CB radio flared to life.

“Simon? You ready?” He had followed five trucks heading south while the other six peeled off to the north for the freeway.

He didn’t answer the voice he knew belonged to Jonas. He didn’t need to. Jonas acted without him answering.

The truck immediately in front of him exploded into a ball of fire, as well as two trucks headed north in his enormous side mirror.

Two trucks in front of him pulled over, the drivers bailing out and running. Simon kept driving, keeping the truck leading the line of 18-wheelers in his vision. Smoke, debris, and bits of sheet metal hit his truck as he passed the fiery explosion, steering the massive piece of machinery around stopping cars and flying debris.

The two trucks that had been pulled over erupted in fiery flames.

Jesus Christ.

More fireballs erupted on the horizon behind him.

Simon tried not to think about who was in the trucks currently burning all around him. He smelled the smoke and tried to tell himself it was just smoke, untinged by the odor of burning flesh, but his brain went to some strange places.

A hollow formed in his chest—a painful, squeezing thing that told him they were gone. He wouldn’t get to see Ryan smiling at Krista anymore. Wouldn’t make fun of Evan refusing to work out on anything but the chin-up bar. Wouldn’t get to tease his brother about weird hobbies anymore. Wouldn’t hear Evan and Jordan bicker about piddly shit.

His foot mashed down on the accelerator as he urged his big-rig to go faster.