It was the early morning hours, but the last thing we needed was to be pulled over and to explain why there was blood all over the backseat and all down Kingston's back.
"He has a BDSM dungeon." Kingston had his phone to his ear, waiting to hear an update from two of his men who had gone to one of Marcos's men's houses closest to the fight location.
Sullivan sat in the back with his arms crossed and a scowl on his face. "Why are we going after her again? She's going to get us all thrown in prison."
My jaw clenched, and I resisted the urge to pull over and yank him out to beat his ass. She might have lied to us, but I still loved her. There was no doubt now that I would kill for her. Did I want to turn her ass red for lying to me? Yes, but her punishment could wait.
Kingston let out a heavy sigh and tossed his phone in a cup-holder between us. "The house is dark and no one seems to be home. We're never going to find her. This is all my fucking fault."
"Yeah. It is." My claws sprung free and dug into the leather steering wheel. "But it's mine too. I should have killed Marcos a long time ago and then none of this would be happening."
"If he's dead..." Kingston looked out the side window. "The videos will be distributed."
I took several deep, calming breaths. "That's what you're worried about right now? His men could be doing God knows what to Wren! He thinks she's oneof us and you know he's been wanting tobranch out,as he likes to call it."
His men were dead men walking. They'd taken my Wrenny, and now they were going to pay. I was still deciding how I'd do it. It was a toss-up between clawing their faces off and then ripping out their jugulars, or flaying them open with a knife and letting their guts spill out onto their useless, limp dicks.
"You need to calm down before we crash." Sullivan's hand fell onto my shoulder and squeezed. "I'm feeling fine. Maybe you should pull over and I can drive."
"No." I shrugged his hand off, even though it had made my wolf calm down. "We're almost there and you need to put on clothes."
Marcos lived in Jackson Estates, an affluent gated community in the hills about an hour outside of Crescent Heights. Not only was the road into the development gated, but all of the houses were gated and on several acres of land. Some even had helicopter landing pads.
As I pulled up to the gate, I put on my most friendly smile and rolled down my window. Sullivan sighed in the back and Kingston raised an eyebrow, wondering how I planned to accomplish getting in. Ihad no clue what the hell I was doing, but maybe the security guard was dumb and would let us through since Kingston's SUV was fancy.
The man in the security booth looked over at me. "Good evening... well, darn. I guess it's now morning. Good morning, sir. Who are you here to see?"
He was tall and lanky, and judging by how his voice shook, he wasn't the right man for a security position. I could easily knock him out cold if needed.
"Marcos Delgado. I'm his best friend, Michael Michaelson." I unbuckled my belt as he turned to his computer and typed in the information with raised eyebrows.
I eyed the cameras pointing right at me and frowned. Damn it. I should have known it wasn't going to be easy. I could knock him out, but when he woke up, I'd be plastered all over the news and they'd go after Kingston since it was his vehicle.
"I'm sorry, but I don't see you on the approved list of visitors. He doesn't allow calls after eleven either." The man looked sympathetic and leaned to look over at Kingston. "Maybe your friend is listed instead?"
"I'll come back tomorrow. Have a nice night." Before he could respond, I backed up and took off down the road.
"Now what are we doing?" Sullivan was leaning forward, resting his elbows on both front seats. "This place is locked down like Fort Knox."
"I've wandered around enough to know there is never just one entrance." I stopped at the edge of the community and then gunned the engine. "Hold on."
"Zayn!" Kingston held onto the grab handle as I hopped the curb and drove through bushes along the cement wall that was at least eight feet high.
Sullivan fell back onto the seat and scrambled for something to hold on to, and my head nearly hit the top of the SUV as we bounced along. Kingston was rattling off about me ruining his shit, but he had the money to replace the damn thing. What was the point of a Sports Utility Vehicle if you couldn't utilize it to its full potential?
Several hundred feet from the road, there was a break in the cement wall where a locked iron gate was. "See, there's always a gate in case of a fire or people need to escape because zombies are coming. Now, if you don't mind hopping out and breaking the lock, we can go get our girl."
Our girl.I liked the sound of that.
Kingston pinched the bridge of his nose. "We could have parked on the street and jumped the wall."
"But that takes too long and we need a getaway vehicle. What if she's hurt?" I unlocked the doors. "We're wasting time."
With a huff, he got out and went to the gate, and with one smooth yank, he broke the lock and pushed open one side of it so I could drive through.
"What is your plan exactly?" Sullivan was back to leaning between the seats. "They tried to kill me. Don't you think that's our sign to lie low?"
Pulling through the gate, I stopped to wait for Kingston to hop back in. "Now is the time to take care of these assholes. Marcos is down for the count, and he's the brains behind everything."
