“Yeah, I’m guessing you all have. So how thefuckwould you feel if someone told you to prepare for afuckingrecovery? I can bet any amount of money that you’d all be losing your fucking minds.” Creed pauses, looking down at the picture as he runs a finger delicately over their faces. He looks directly at me, his bright blue eyes burning into mine when his head snaps back up, making sure I understand every word that leaves his lips. His bandaged hand grips his chest over his heart, his nails digging into the fabric of his shirt. “I can feel it right here.They’re. Alive.Thisisa fuckingrescuefor them.Bothof them. The only dead body we’ll be recovering will be the fucking corpse of the motherfucker who took them from me. Do you understand?”
I give him a firm nod, but in reality, we have no idea what state my sister and Riley are in. Based on what we’ve just learned, the odds of both of them being alive are slim. Losing Riley would be devastating, but nothing compares to the absolute agony lancing its way through my chest at the thought of my sister being…
I will my legs to keep me upright when all I want to do is collapse. I’ve been fighting and fighting and fucking fighting to keep myself strong and not fall apart over losing my baby sisteragain, for failing to protect her from that fucking psychopathagain.
I can’t fall apart. Not now, at least. I have to go into this mission with knowledge, strategy, and scenario probabilities guiding me, while still clinging to hope in the back of my mind that we will find them both alive.
I don’t know Riley as well as I know Creed and Collins, but what I do know is just how much they care about him. It’s impossible to miss the absolute love and devotion that Riley poured right back into them. They all really do complete one another, so really, there is no other option than for both of them to survive this.
I’ll never forgive myself for my colossal fuck up in not protecting Collins the way I swore to her that I would, but I pray that one day I can earn her forgiveness when we do get her and Riley back.
“Sutton,” Callan calls, pulling me from my thoughts. I snap to attention. It was clear from the beginning that when Callan called me by my last name, it meant it was time for tactical planning and underground business.
My mind clears as I look my boss in the eye, my body now ready for action. I give him a singular nod when his brow twitches, a silent question to ask if I’m ready. Once he sees I’m good, he looks to Creed, then to Garrick, who stands silently in the back of the room, observing everything. The last man of this operation enters the room before Callan says, “Let’s go over the plan.”
Before I can even start, Creed takes a look at who just walked in, and his shoulders visibly slump in exasperation before he blurts, “Oh, what thefuck?”
The man just crosses his burly arms over his chest and lifts his chin at Creed, looking down his nose at him from across the room. “Long time, no see, motherfucker.”
Chapter 7
Creed
“I’M A FUCKING MUSICIAN. NOT A GANGSTER.”
What in the ever-lovingfuckis happening right now? Who let Jett the fucking Barbarian in here? You know what, I don’t give a shit why he’s here, the more men, the better. All I have the capacity to focus on is getting the fucking plan out of somebody before I stuff my fist down one of their throats and go searching for the answers myself.
I look between Lachlan and Asher in question and the former answers. “I’ll explain later.”Fair enough.He walks to the back of the room, then turns to us. I do my best to ignore the burning sensation in the side of my skull where Jett is currently murderously staring at me.
“Everybody, listen up,” Lachlan calls out, his voice now carrying a harsh command. “We’ve already scoped the area. I want this operation to be swift and silent. We get in, kill any man you see on sight, retrieve the two captives, and get out.”
He continues on, talking about foot soldiers and their roles in taking out the security. How he will scan for alarm systems and snuff out any access they have to cameras or any kind of securitythat would alert Guy that there’s been a breach in the perimeter of the warehouse.
Hetriesto tell me that I’m to wait for Collins and Riley in the armored-out SUV, but after some manic laughter, a hefty “fuck that”, followed by a snarled “fuck you”, I’m now a part of the group that will follow in after Camdan.
My dad opted to wait in the vehicle with Lachlan, so should the whole operation go tits-up, he’ll be the one to get any survivors the fuck out of there.
After going over the entire plan and making sure that everybody knows what their job will be, I was fitted with a bullet-proof vest, a balaclava, an earpiece, a handgun, two knives, and a utility belt with extra magazines slid in place. I know how to handle a gun, but that didn’t stop Camdan from giving me a rundown. I was too anxious to get in the fucking car to get to Collins and Riley that I snapped at him to hurry up, and I swear I saw my life flash before my eyes with the way he glowered at me.
But boy was I knocked on my ass at the way his stony-ass, stabby expression softened to squishy teddy bear levels when he said his goodbyes to Millie. The two make no sense when you put them side by side. She’s so tiny and dainty and sickly sweet while he’s a massive, feral animal and a total fucking grump. Seems like she’s tamed the wild beast, so more power to her.
After seeing the women off to the safe house, we all file into a row of blacked out, armored SUVs. When I shut my door and turn to see who I’m riding with, I roll my eyes and instantly make to get out of this car and into another.
“Creed, you’ll have to stay,” Lachlan states lackadaisically from the passenger seat while his driver starts the engine.
“The fuck I do,” I grit out, reaching for the handle again.
“Get the fuck over yourself and buckle up.” This time the rebuttal comes from Jett, and I turn to focus my glare on him as the convoy pulls out of the parking garage and onto the highway.It’s still hardly the asscrack of dawn, and there’s no traffic in the city yet, so we’re able to set a good pace.
The drive out to their location is eating at me, feeling like an entire eternity is passing by before we get even remotely close. Jett’s presence next to me is grating on my very last nerve, and finally I snap, needing to know why he was allowed to join this rescue mission. I continue to stare out the window when I open my mouth.
“What are you even doing here? Shouldn’t you be in California, protecting strippers?” It’s an intentional barb, and an unintentional insult to the workers there, but I can’t find it in me to care right now.
“Shouldn’t you be halfway across the country, protecting Collins?” he spits back at me with so much venom that it nearly has me wilting in my seat. He’s right. I should be protecting her. I should’ve done more.
He doesn’t apologize for his blunt assholery, but I do see his expression lessen in severity when he takes in all the pain that I’m sure is radiating off of me in thick waves. I take a breath and ask again, a little calmer this time, “What are you doing here, Jett?”
He gives a pointed look that saysyou know why,and while I technically do know, I want to knowhowhe ended up here. Lachlan speaks up before Jett can even open his mouth, answering my question.
