“Guess we’re just lucky and get to take care of them ourselves,” I replied. “Trust me, Relay’s going to be disappointed he missed this.”
“He’s going to be pissed,” Dad said with a grim chuckle. He knew everything about his sons. He was one of the few people—me being one as well—who knew Relay’s whole story. Not even Mom knew the full details. She knew just enough that it wouldn’t completely upset her. And yet Dad loved Relay as much now as he ever had. He was constantly trying to get Relay into therapy, but my brother was a stubborn man. Not that all of us weren’t.
“What’s the plan?” Isaac asked. He’d been the kind of soldier who you’d point in a direction and tell him to decimate an area, not a planner. He was as deadly a killer as the rest of us. He just didn’t need to keep doing it in the same way Relay and I had. So he’d retired from the Army and was happy just working with Dad.
Ruck had been massively disappointed he hadn’t been able to recruit all three of the Dunn brothers when Isaac had turned down the offer to prospect for the MC. Hell, Ruck even offered for my father to come into the brotherhood, but Dad and Isaac were just a little different than Relay and me. They didn’t need this. We did.
“We need to draw them in,” I told them.
“Don’t we want to scare them off?” Isaac asked.
Dad was studying my face. “You sure you know who they are.”
“Pretty sure,” I told him. “And if they are, they’ll come back again. But next time it’ll be when you’re sleeping so they can slit your throats.”
Dad’s eyes hardened into that look I knew so well. The killer instinct had just taken over. I saw it in the mirror often enough to recognize it. Saw it in Relay’s eyes. In my MC brothers’ and now there it was in my Dad and brother’s eyes as realization set in. “Is your mother in trouble?”
“I fucking hope not,” I told him as I pushed down the helpless feeling that something could be happening to Devyn and Mom right now. Or hell, even Relay wherever he was today. “But Ruck will make sure she’s safe even if they go after her.”
He nodded, satisfied for now. “So we draw them in,” Dad said.
“And kill ‘em all?” Isaac asked, voice completely devoid of worry or any other emotion.
“And kill ‘em all,” Dad and I echoed together.
“We need a plan,” I told them as we started backing toward a metal staircase that led up to the rickety looking planks of metal high above the factory floor.
Worry flashed in Dad’s eyes. “You two, cover that door. I’m calling your brother. And your mother. Even with your MC heading their way, I want them to know what’s coming.”
I nodded pointing my Glock at the opening. I wasn’t going to warn Dev. I didn’t have time to explain and this would freak her out more than if she didn’t know.
Sunlight was filtering in from the windows up high, but we were back in a shadowy area. It gave us some concealment, if nothing else. Coming in from the bright morning, they wouldn’t be able to see us right away.
Isaac and I shot at the same time as one of the bastards poked his head through the door. Dumb fucker. He dropped likea sack of potatoes. Hopefully that would hold off the others for a couple minutes.
I heard the unmistakable sound of a shotgun racking a round. “We’re about to have more company,” I warned Isaac.
I met my father’s eyes as he walked back over to us. His call to Relay had taken about two seconds while the call to Mom had taken just slightly longer. “Get through?”
He nodded. “Yeah. They know.”
“Sorry ‘bout our shit spilling over into your lives,” I said. “We’ll do whatever we have to in order to keep everyone safe.”
Isaac just shrugged, because I’d met his gaze, too, and included him in the apology. “Sometimes it feels good to stretch my legs. Reminds me why I go to the range once a week to practice.”
Dad laughed. “Let’s hope you shoot better than you did last weekend.”
“I told you I was hung over as hell,” he muttered.
The shitbags got wise this time and six of them came through the door as fast as they could, two at a time, elbowing each other out of the way as they ran for cover. It worked, for the men in the back. The first through the door were like bullet sponges. We only managed to take out two as more spilled through the doorway.
“Ten left,” Dad said.
We’d all been counting.
“Remind me to pack your damn truck full of magazines and ammo from now on,” I told him. “Don’t like that we only have four mags each.” Before leaving the truck I had raided my Go-bag for all my extra mags. I had always thought I was over packing. Right now I realized there was no such thing.
“Just make your shots count, asshole,” Isaac said, firing at a guy who stuck his head up over a drum. Liquid began to pour out onto the floor as Isaac hit the drum instead of the guy.
