Page 76 of Devil's Queen
“I’m with Remy,” Harlow chimes in. “The longer we wait, the more opportunity they have to hurt the kids. Our club. Our call, right?”
“It is my call.” She wastes no time on her answer. “We’re going now.”
Harlow accepts the answer with a nod before returning to the congregation of Rem’s club sisters behind us. She glares over at me before joining her club and barking orders like the leader she is. With everyone’s marching orders in place, we creep toward the clubhouse on foot. Only leaving Maya behind to coordinate with Heaven’s Rejects once they arrive.
I take one last deep breath, steeling myself for what lies ahead. The weight of responsibility rests heavily on my shoulders, but I cannot afford to let it break me. If I crumble now, the entire plan falls apart. Rem looks at me, her eyes filled with determination and fear, mirroring my conflicting emotions.
“We stick together,” I say firmly, gripping Rem’s hand tighter. “No matter what happens, we stay by each other’s side.”
She nods, her grip on my hand just as resolute.
With a nod from Rem, Cheyenne leads their club toward the Zulu Kings’ clubhouse. The tall grass swishes and sways around them as they walk in a line toward the building. The Queens begin to split off before they come into view of the building’s security cameras. We wait until they settle into position before we walk to our bikes.
Rem mounts her bike next to me, laser focused on the task ahead. As we rev our engines, thunderous roars echo through the desolate lot. Wolff liked a performance, and we were about to give him one with Rem and I as the main act, the distraction to what the rest of her club would be doing while his focus is all on us.
Rem’s eyes meet mine, and in that moment, I see the fire burning within her, the unwavering determination to bring our children back safely.
I rev my bike’s engine, feeling the vibrations pulsing through me as we prepare to make our move. The roar of the engines fills the air, drowning out any lingering doubts or fears. We exchange one last look, a silent understanding passing between us. This is it. Our moment to take back what’s rightfully ours.
With a nod from Rem, we peel out of the hiding spot, our bikes tearing through the empty lot toward the clubhouse. The wind rushes past us, whipping through our hair and carrying away any lingering hesitation. We ride side by side, a united front.
As we skid to a stop outside the entrance, the familiar scent of burning rubber fills the air. Rem and I dismount our bikes simultaneously, our movements synchronized with an unspoken understanding. We know what needs to be done.
“I love you,” I declare to her. “Whatever happens, Rem. I love you. Always have. Always will. You don’t have to say it back, but I am not going in there without you knowing.”
“Rex, I,” she stutters, but I don’t give her a chance to finish. Hearing her say it back isn’t what I want. I want her to know that even if today is my last day, I love her. With that off my chest, I can go into this clubhouse and do what I need to do.
With weapon in hand, I storm through the doors, kicking them open with brute force. The doors swing open with a resounding crash, and I step into the dimly lit hallway of the Zulu Kings’ clubhouse. The air is thick with tension, the scent of sweat and stale beer lingering in the stagnant atmosphere.
I’m not alone. Rem follows closely behind me, her presence a comforting weight at my back. Our eyes meet for a brief moment, reaffirming our unspoken pact as we navigate this treacherous territory together.
We move silently, navigating through the maze-like corridors with a familiarity born from countless hours spent within these walls. Each door we pass teases us with the possibility that our children could be behind it, their innocent faces etched with fear and confusion.
Time stretches on, endless minutes blending into each other as we search for any sign of our children’s whereabouts. Every room we enter is empty, devoid of life except for the remnants of debauchery left in its wake. A chill runs down my spine as if Wolff’s malevolent presence lurks just out of reach.
We rush toward the meeting room, the only room remaining to check. And sitting in my designated spot at the head of the table is Wolff, a sly grin on his face. The kids and Ameline are nowhere to be found.
“Took you long enough,” Wolff’s gruff voice teases.
I meet Wolff’s gaze with a steely resolve, refusing to be intimidated by his mocking tone. “You’re in my seat.”
Rem stands beside me. Her grip tightens on her weapon, ready to spring into action at a moment’s notice. We lock eyes for a brief moment, an unspoken understanding passing between us.
“It was never yours, Rex. You were just keeping it warm for me.”
“Where are they?” Rem interjects, charging past me, gun drawn and trained on him. “What have you done to my family?”
“They’ll be here in due time, Remington.” He smiles before leaning forward, his hands falling to his lap. “I’d drop your gun, sweetheart. You fire that at me, and you won’t be getting your family back breathing air. On the table, both of you.” Wolff reveals his gun. He lays it on the table with his finger on the trigger and aimed at me. “Go on now.”
Rem’s eyes narrow with fury, but she compiles, laying the gun on the table between us and Wolff.
“Good girl.” He smiles. “You, next.”
I follow suit before stepping back from the table.
“Now that we’ve taken care of those, let’s talk.”
“I don’t need a gun to kill you, Wolff,” she hisses, her voice laced with venom.