Just the chance that Sloane might be pregnant has flipped a switch in me, a basic need to protect and care for my woman and our child is first and foremost. Those that are standing between me and that need are the enemy and they will be eliminated.
“Hey.” Jax’s voice pulls me away from my thoughts and I sling my head in his direction, “We’ll get them back.”
It’s not lost on me that he said ‘them’ and I take a deep breath and nod my head, “Okay, let’s get back to the plan.”
Spits is standing in front of a map of Oklahoma and pointing out locations to give us a sitrep, “The old farmhouse is located on ten acres in this area just east of a small town named Pryor, it was abandoned when the older couple died, and it was passed onto a grandson.” He tilts his head toward us and spits a sunflower hull into a cup.
“This guy is a real piece of work, rap sheet a mile long: kidnapping, rape, assorted DUI’s and DWI’s, public intox, simple assault, aggravated assault, it goes on, but you get the gist.” He points to a satellite picture of a run-down farmstead, “There is a storm shelter about ten yards away from the house,” he points to a cluster of trees that is close to the tree line that surrounds the house.
“Were you able to get a clear image of the surface of the storm shelter?” Callum asks, his thumb slides across his bottom lip as he stands with arms crossed over his chest.
Spits pulls out a grainy photo from a stack of photos on the table, “This was the best angle I could get around the overhanging trees.”
Only half of a door set into a large square cement pad is visible through the large clusters of naked trees. At least we know what to look for.
Even as I listen to Callum and Spits talk about elevations and best areas of cover for us, I nod my head when my assigned space is pointed out to me, but I’m also wondering if she is in that cellar right now. Is she cold? Is she hungry?
Is she hurt?
Fuck.
Cupping the back of my neck, I look down at my feet. Can I watch everything unfold through my scope? Is Callum right for doubting my ability? I can feel eyes on me, and I look up through my eyelashes at Callum, his gaze is boring a hole in me.
Glancing at Jax, who is also looking at me, I look back to Callum, my shoulders sink, and I say, “I think Scott should be the eyes and I should be with the guys in the front.”
Without even a tiny pause, which would be insulting under different circumstances, Callum nods, “I agree.”
It only takes a few more minutes for the whole plan to come together and we are strapping on protection and weapons to get ready to leave.
“Mason.” I hear Dad’s voice from the hallway.
I never lacked respect for my dad, but after watching him torture a guy without flinching last night, that water well got even deeper. “Yeah.” I step around the corner and slide my hands in the pockets of my tactical pants.
It’s obvious he hasn’t slept, his thin, dark hair is normally combed, but it looks like he’s been scrubbing his hands over his head, and he is wearing the same clothes he had on last night.
A quick glance behind him reveals Tucker standing at the top of the stairs leaning on the banister, his hazel eyes watching us intently. He grabbed Kinley, Marley, and Lainey Rai last night when the shooting started, but Lainey Rai managed to slip out of his grasp because she wanted to get to her daddy.
He’s pretty pissed that anyone would do what those mother fuckers did last night.
“Is there anything I can do, son?” My dad brings my attention back to him.
I look at Tucker again before I answer, “The best thing you, Tucker, and Gray can do is stand guard here, make sure the girls are protected. This should all be over by the end of the day.”
He tucks his thumbs into his pockets and nods, his gaze moving to the floor between us, “I want you to be careful, son.” His normally deep, gravelly voice wavers.
I could count on both hands the number of times I have seen my dad be emotional in my life, in my peripheral Tucker pushes off the banister and walks back to his room, and I clap my hand down on my dad’s shoulder. With a smirk and a smile, I say, “A day in the life, Dad.”
***
Grey light is starting to filter across the sky and the air is so cold that we can see our breaths in front of our faces, even through our masks. Spits dropped us a few miles away to the north so we could hump it in, and we have each taken our preplanned points around the house.
“Alpha 1 to Alpha 4, sit rep.” I hear Callum’s voice in comms.
“Alpha 4, no movement yet, the house is quiet inside and out. Over.” Scott says.
My line of sight is at the south side of the house from the tree line and the old cellar is visible about an eighth of a mile to my left. It kills me to know that Sloane is down there in this freezing weather, cellars stay cool year-round, I can’t imagine how cold it is down there right now.
As we watch the house, I remember that first day when I walked in on Sloane in the kitchen, shock isn’t the right word for what I felt when I saw her. When I woke up in the hotel room and she was gone, part of me was already working out a way to try to find out who she was, so maybe happiness is the better word for when I saw her in the kitchen.
