Tank walks up beside me and drops a heavy hand on my shoulder. “I know what they tried to take from you today, but don’t get reckless. We can’t lose any more brothers.”
“I can’t just sit here and do nothing,” I snarl. My hands are itching to spill Disciple blood.
“Keep a cool head,” Zeus tells me. “They’re going to pay, son. You have my word.”
I dip my head, though every fiber of my being demands that I prowl the streets and get every Disciple I can find.
“Snake is en route,” Smokey announces, stuffing his cell phone back into his pocket. “Still no word from Draco.”
“Shit, I forgot,” Cricket says, pausing with his beer a hairbreadth from his lips. “He’s at Tulip’s.”
“Fucking boy is always thinking with his cock when it comes to that girl.” Zeus sighs and drops into an armchair.
“I’ll get her number from Meela,” Jigsaw offers, then disappears into the hallway.
After the bullets stopped flying, Meela wound herself around him and wouldn’t let go. He tried to force her to leave with the women and children, but she only held on tighter. He could’ve shaken her off easy, but I think her tears did him in. Instead, he took her to his room.
Tank strides across the room and whispers something to Zeus.
He gives a clipped nod and stands. “We have a lead on a Disciple safehouse.”
Looks like a club informant came through for us.
“Let’s go,” I say, lifting Zilphia in my arms.
I’ll leave her in my room and post a couple brothers on the door. Naomi checked her out, said she’s fine, just in shock.
“Burn these pieces of shit and put our fallen on ice,” Zeus tells the prospects.
I’m driving one of three SUVs to the safehouse. We just crossed into Wicomico County, a little over an hour from Kent.
Snake pounds a fist on the dashboard. “I still can’t believe this shit, man.” He and Draco arrived at The Sanctuary within minutes of each other. Zeus tore into them for not answering their phones.
“We’ll get them back,” Cricket comments from behind me.
“Where the hell were you, Snake?” Smokey asks.
“Nowhere,” Snake answers, shrugging a shoulder. “Just hanging around. You my mother or something?”
Smokey scoffs. “By hanging around, do you mean stalking Leah?”
“Stay the fuck out my business,” he growls, throwing a punch back at him.
“Chill, man.” Smokey laughs, dodging the fist that was meant for his face. “I won’t bring up your girlfriend again.”
“Stop fucking around,” I order them, parking behind the SUV in front of me. “We’re here.”
We exit the vehicles and gather on the sidewalk. We’re twenty deep and roaring to fuck some shit up.
Jigsaw points out a dilapidated house about three blocks up the street. “That’s it.”
The house is big but unassuming, nothing out of the ordinary to indicate a Disciple safehouse. It’s a good place to hide in plain sight. The lights are on, so somebody’s home.
“Basement?” Tank asks him.
“Yeah, an attic too,” Jigsaw confirms, gaze scouting the rundown neighborhood. “Lots of places to hide. I’ll do some recon, make sure the coast is clear. Be back in five.”
“Watch your six, brother,” Butch states gravely.
