Rook

Ines was able to answer all of Hawk's questions with me there to hold her hand. He still asked too many, as far as I'm concerned, then spent a hell of a lot time typing away on those computers that his office in the basement is full of.

I never really understood what he does all day. The guy that had Hawk's job before—namely gathering information and making sure we knew absolutely all we could about a job before we rode—was much more hands on. As in cracking skulls, pressing informants for info and general torture. Hawk is all about looking shit up on the Internet and taking notes. I think Scar, who does most of the actual torturing for us—though that jagged scar covering half his face is usually enough to get men talking—is kinda happy about it. But me, I don't quite see the full value of Hawk's approach. It's slow for one thing.

Like right now. He's got the satellite image of the Gentleman's compound on full screen and is making very dejected noises as he stares at it.

"Not this way," he says, tapping at some black line on the screen. "And it looks like there's a guardhouse next to this one…" His voice trails off as he peers so close at the screen his nose is almost touching it.

I always thought the best recon is going to the place you're trying to break into and seeing it for yourself, and I'm just about to tell him so, when he turns to Ines abruptly.

"You never came in any other way than the front gate?" he asks. "What about when you went out? Think."

She grips my hand even harder than she was doing it before. My hand is already all sweaty and swollen from this planning session, which has just been going around in circles for the last hour.

"She is thinking, and she answered this question at least five times already, Hawk," I snap. It was very hard listening to her the first time, when she explained how Silvio would sometimes have her brought to him in this concrete layer of his. She didn't say what he did to her, but I've seen the scars, and I have every single one of them memorized by now. They're the roadmap to his death. And that sweet moment is moving farther away with every hour we spend in this stuffy room.

Cross and Tank are in the room with us, and they both have the same hard, kinda worried expression on their faces.

"This is important, Rook," Cross says. "Let him ask the questions."

"We don't even know if Ice is in there," I say.

"There's no other place I know of where he could be," Ines says very quietly, right before Cross was about to say something.

Between the two of us, I think we just pointed out the very thing that'll make this job nearly impossible to carry out even before we start.

"If we could get him out in the open," Tank muses, but stops talking when he notices my murderous look.

He's made allusions to this before now, and I know what he's suggesting, it's what we're all thinking. But no way. I'm not risking Ines for one goddamn second.

She squeezes my hand, and I can feel her eyes boring into me. But I can't look at her. I believed her before when she told me she never wants to leave me and that she wants Silvio dead. I always believed her when she said she loved me. Always. But right now, all the better ways we could be spending this night—and the rest of our lives together—are spinning hard and fierce in the pit of my stomach, igniting the fear that none of it will ever happen to sickening proportions.

"It's the only way, Rook," she whispers. "You know it is."

She didn't actually say it, didn't suggest she leave me again, and I'm very thankful for that. But she's also right. If we want to get Ice back, we have to make the Gentleman think he's getting her back. That's the only way this has any hope of success. But I don't know if I'll be able to stomach it.

The rest are so quiet it's like me and Ines are alone in the room. But they all have very expectant looks on their faces.

"Alright, call him and set up an exchange," I say to Cross, not believing my voice said it even after I hear it. "But make sure it's a set up we'll have complete control over."

We never have complete control over any set up and I know that perfectly well. The others do too. But, thankfully, no one, not even Tank, points it out. If they did, I might change my mind.

"You sure?" Cross asks.

I finally look at Ines, at her sad eyes, which are absolutely begging me to make everything alright, even if her mouth just asked me to do the complete opposite. No, I'm not fucking sure. But it's the only way.

"Are you sure?" I ask her and she nods, clutches my hand even harder, the bones of her fingers digging into my palm painfully now.

"Set it up," I tell Cross and stand up, pulling her to her feet too. "Let us know when it's time to ride."

I trust Cross to do the best he can by Ines. I trust him with my life. And he's got that in his hands right now. Because my life is Ines' and hers is mine. If we fail, neither of us is returning from Mexico.

* * *

I feel like I've only just gone to sleep when the buzzing of my phone wakes me. But the sun is already shining outside so that's not the case.

"Come down," is all Cross says when I pick up then hangs up right after.

I get out of bed slowly and carefully so as not to wake Ines.

Days that start out with me waking up thinking I haven't slept never amount to much. But this one's gotta be different. It's gotta be.

Hawk is already in Cross' office, and Tank comes in just after me, looking like he didn't get much sleep last night either.

"I set up the exchange for tomorrow at noon at Rio Square," Cross tells us as soon as the door closes behind Tank. "It's not ideal, but that's where he wanted to meet, and I couldn't push too hard for a different meeting place without arousing suspicion. It's not the worst kinda place either, and Hawk thinks it won't be crowded in the middle of the day."

"I know the place," I put in. "It's in the business district and pretty quiet most of the time."

Cross nods. "Scar already left with fifty guys this morning to take a look and secure it—"

"Fifty?" Tank interjects sarcastically. "What are you expecting? A battle?"

The guy hardly flinches as both me and Cross shoot him a dirty look.

"I wanna do this right the first time," Cross says. "For now, no one but the four of us and Scar know what's really gonna happen tomorrow, or why we're really going."

There he goes with his secrecy again. But I suppose in this case, the less people that know Ice is in danger, the more chance that Roxie won't find out.

"I'll give instructions once I see the place for myself," Cross goes on. "We're leaving today and spending the night in Mexico City."

"I'd rather not bring Ines there until the meet tomorrow," I say. "The Gentleman has that whole city in his pocket, and she's famous as his mistress."

The words stick in my mouth like rotten food, but I won't have to worry about him much longer, and that helps.

"Alright, then you'll stay somewhere close to the city," Cross says. "Any questions?"

The other two shake their heads, but there is one more thing we need to discuss, or rather, one more thing they have to know.

"The Gentleman dies tomorrow." I say it like the statement of fact that it is. It's not a question. But uncharacteristically enough, Cross flinches.

"We'll never be free of him, if I let him live," I add, and I'm talking about Ines and me as much as Devil's Nightmare MC when I say it.

Cross nods slowly.

"It's probably for the best," Tank says, sounding serious for once. "But the fallout could keep us busy for long time yet."

He's saying what Cross is thinking. They sometimes do that, and it's damn unnerving, but I guess it's just because they've known each other for so long.

"There's no avoiding that fallout," Cross says and turns to me. "But make it fast and clean, Rook."

I nod, since I'm not sure that'll be easy once I see that motherfucker again and the last of my control goes up in smoke, and anything I say will betray that. But I'll do my best by the club like I've always done, and like the club has always done by me.

"I'll pay you all back for this," I say. It goes without saying, but still. "I appreciate you all standing with me in this."

Tank nods, fighting down a sarcastic smile as he walks over and smacks me on the back. "Hey, you got our back and we got yours. It's how it works. No need to get all mushy about it. But I get it, you're in love now."

"And what do you know about love?" I counter jokingly, since I am grateful to him for breaking the tension.

"More than I did last year, that's for sure," he says. "And now I should go shower from all that love before we leave."

Hawk laughs, and so do I. Even Cross chuckles. Tank can lighten any mood, and that’s one of the biggest reasons why he's such a good wingman, and the perfect guy to be our VP. I know Cross is so focused on the job right now, he can think about little else. I'm the same way, coiled so tight my jaw might snap off if I open it too fast, and that won't let up until the Gentleman is dead. I may get annoyed with Tank's sarcastic bullshit sometimes, but I don't know where we'd all be without his jokes.

"Let's all get ready," Cross says. "We leave in two hours."

I never get nervous before jobs, but right now my stomach is sickeningly tight. Yet I'm doing this for Ines. And I can do anything for her.