GEORGIY
“Istill can’t believe you put two trackers in him. One is bad enough,” Jax murmurs as we park down the street, just yards away from the house Bane is in. It’s unassuming, just a wide ranch house on the outskirts of town. The nearest residence is half a mile away.
“Anyone else think it’s weird?” Jax asks no one in particular.
I don’t care that I put three trackers in him. I’d do it again.
I will do it again.
Sadly, I had to take a few minutes to activate the second one. Sven was the one who did it for me. And as soon as his new location pinged, we rushed out to find him.
So no, I won’t apologize. I’m going to find him because of it. Because I planned ahead. Because I knew he couldn’t stay out of trouble.
“I think it’s kinda romantic,” Kit says, and Jax eyes him.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah, I mean, the level of obsession is real with those two.”
They have no idea the lengths I’d go to find him, to bring him home to me. Maybe Casey does. He’s clutching the steeringwheel tightly as he inhales through his nose. He’s worried about Bane now. He knows how bad this could get.
But there is no time for any of this.
“We should wait for backup,” Casey finally murmurs. “It would be the smart thing to do.”
“No,” I growl. “No waiting. No being smart.”
Just as I say that, a knock on the window causes us to look over. It’s Fallow. He followed us here and looks almost eager as he rocks back and forth on his feet.
Casey rolls his window down a fraction, and Fallow waggles his fingers at him.
“What are we waiting for? I thought this was urgent.”
It is. He’s right. Sitting here isn’t doing anything to help Bane.
I push the door open and step out, moving to the trunk to grab the knife I put in there.
The sharp one. The one that can cut through bones.
“Oh shit. There he goes. He’s fast, isn’t he?” I hear Fallow say excitedly as I make my way up to the front door of the house. I don’t wait for the others, just try the knob, only to find it’s locked.
So I ring the doorbell, and as I wait for an answer, I hear the men move up behind me. I can sense the anticipation, can smell the metal of the guns they’re carrying. But I don’t remove my gaze from the door in front of me.
I’m focused, like the surgeon I once was.
It’s time to pull this operation apart and find out what’s wrong. Only this time, I won’t fix anything.
No.
I’m going to make them suffer.
The man who answers the door doesn’t even have time to breathe. Nor do I give him the chance to open his mouth. I just stab the knife into the side of his neck, pulling it out with a wetschlickbefore slitting his throat. He slumps down, and I step over him.
“Jesus,” I hear Kit mutter, but I’m not distracted. Not waiting for anyone.
This house is large, and we need to find out where he is.
Where is my Bane?
