Page 8 of Damaged & Deadly
“Cain?” The hesitation in Red’s voice is what finally has my eyes snapping open, and I spring upright so quickly that my head spins.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I-I just wasn’t sure if you’d wanna hear from me after…”
“I always want to hear from you, Red. Are you okay?”
She chokes out a strained laugh. “Everything’s so fucked up.”
“I know, baby. I’m sorry.” It sounds weak, but I don’t know what else to say to her. We had one job while she was putting herself at risk, forme—to look after her brother. And we failed her.Ifailed her. “I’m sorry,” I repeat, guilt straining my voice. In the resounding silence, I can hear what sounds like water running. A tap or shower, maybe.
As if sensing I don’t want her to tell me it’s okay—or maybe she genuinely doesn’t accept my apology, not that I could blame her—she instead asks, “What happened?”
“There was a shooting at the school. We think the Bastards started it as a diversion so they could get to Luc.”
“What does that mean?”
“Nothing good.” I’m not sure what else to say to her. Unfortunately, even after hours of drunken rambling and tossing theories back and forth, Oliver and I are still none the wiser about the bigger picture.
“What do you think he wants with him?” Her voice is quiet, strained, and it pierces right into my chest, making me feel even more helpless than I did before.
“Leverage, maybe?” It’s a guess. There are too many unknowns for me to make any sort of logical assumption.
“He said he was having a celebratory dinner tonight.”
“Well, I guess you’ll find out then.” There’s an ominous ring to my voice, and I mentally kick myself. I sound like a fucking dick. I have no idea how to give her the comfort and support she likely needs. I’m no fucking good at this stuff. This is more Oliver’s speed. She should have called him instead.
“Yeah.” She sighs, making me feel like an even bigger ass. It’s on the tip of my tongue to apologize, but she speaks before I can. “Anyway, I should go. Dante’s in the next room and I don’t want him to get suspicious.”
My teeth grind at those words, my apology immediately forgotten as thoughts of the two of them assault my mind. It sounds as if she’s in a bathroom, so why the fuck is he in the next room… unless he’s in her bedroom. My hand clenches around the phone, the plastic creaking threateningly. “We need to talk about what’s going on with them, Red.”
“I know,” she sighs. “Soon.”
I want to demand answers now, but I know it’s not the time. Instead, I try to push past my anger. “Stay safe.”
“I will. I love you.”
“Love you too, baby.”
I hang up, scrubbing my hand down my face as I check the time. Eight a.m. It’s been nearly an entire day since everything went to shit, and I’ve yet to actually accomplish anything. I have no plan, no idea how to get my girl back.Ourgirl back.
Now that I’m awake, energy buzzes beneath my skin, and I throw back the covers. I move on autopilot, showering and getting ready for the day while my mind works back over the last twenty-four hours. Everything feels like it’s spinning out of control, and the pitiful amount of information we have is pissing me off.
“What’s the game plan?” Oliver asks when I sit opposite him at one of the tables in the front bar area of the clubhouse, nursing a cup of black coffee. There are only a few other men around, digging into their breakfasts. We sent most of them out to keep an eye on the Bastards and gain any intel they could learn about Luc’s location—although I’m not holding my breath for much on that front. Even so, the mood throughout the entire clubhouse is somber. We were all excited for what should have been a win yesterday and it’s hitting everyone hard today.
“We can’t make a move against the Antonellis, and Red is in a better position to help her brother than we are,” I begin. “Which leaves the Bastards.” A vicious smile slashes across my face as the thought of actually getting out there and doing something—delivering retribution—makes adrenaline pulse through me.
Immediately catching on to what I’m saying, Oliver returns my look with a dark one of his own. “We need to strike at them,” I go on. “Show them that they can’t just fuck with us and get away with it. They’ve crossed too many lines already. Luc might not be a Reject, but he’s one of us. There’s no way they didn’t realize he was under our protection.”
Oliver nods in agreement, and I watch as ideas flitter across his mind before he lands on one. “We need to hit one of their drug houses.”
“Exactly. Except not just one.”
“You know, if the Bastards are working with them, then the Antonellis know we’re involved somehow, even if they don’t know why or the extent,” Oliver muses.
“Yeah.” It’s a thought I’d been mulling over all night. Until now, it seemed as though, whatever reason Giovanni had for sending one of his men after Red, it had nothing to do with us or our vendetta against them. But if somehow they have managed to link Red to Luc, then back to us, they definitely know there’s some sort of connection there—even if it can be twisted to seem tenuous. The problem is, we have no idea what this means, and it’s Red who will most likely have to face the consequences and answer any questions they have about us. Worry, guilt, and anger churn in my stomach and cause a tightness in my chest.
“Come on.” I down the last of my coffee and get to my feet, needing to move, to do something. “Let’s go put the Bastards in their place.”