Princess (19 page)

“Crap, do you need me to come in? If you do, then I will; otherwise, I was going to wait here.”

“No, it’s fine, the pickup’s gone, so they must’ve come and traded vehicles.”

“Okay, will you leave the car on so I can listen to music?”

“Yeah, of course. I’ll be right back.”

Slamming my door, I follow along the narrow, worn grass path and hop up the steps to the porch. Stopping at the front door, I take in the aged dark gray paint. It’s fading enough to make out the wood underneath, and it sort of makes me sad. We painted this door right before my dad finally left us. Now, like the paint, we’re all worn down, a little vulnerable and exposed when it comes to outside elements.

Taking a deep breath, I twist the door handle; only it doesn’t budge.
Okay then.
Pressing the door chime and folding my arms over my chest, I wait for her to answer. It feels as if five minutes pass with nothing, so I try knocking loudly.

She still doesn’t answer, which is odd because my dad never takes her anywhere with him and her car’s parked out front.
Maybe I should call.

Jogging back to my car, Bethany turns to me as I slide into my seat.

“Everything go good?”

“She didn’t answer; I’m going to try her cell.”

Bethany nods and sits back as I dial.

It rings and rings, but she doesn’t pick up. Her voicemail clicks on, which I never use, but decide to in this case. “Hey Mom, it’s me. Umm, I stopped over, but no one answered, so I guess you’re somewhere. I was hoping to talk to you about the guy I’m seeing. It’s becoming serious, so…well, I was thinking of bringing him by sometime. He’s…different. Anyhow, let me know what you think. Love you more,” I finish and hang up.

“That sounded a little strained.”

“It’s just weird because we’ve been talking over random messages, nothing consistent like it used to be. I sort of feel like I have this new life, and she’s not in it anymore. Ugh, I feel so shitty admitting that out loud.”

“It’ll all work out; just bring the big guy over with you sometime. She’s totally going to freak. You know that, right? He’s pretty much everything you’ve fought against. Your dad’s an alpha, in charge of all those guys, but Viking makes him look like a sweet old man. Not only that, but you’re in love, and she’s going to be so excited for you.”

“I’m not in love.” I turn the engine over, backing out.
It’s too soon.

“Please Ol’ Lady; your ass is so in love.” She rolls her eyes and no matter how much I don’t want to, I laugh.

We head back to my apartment, and I swear to myself that I’m going to bring my Viking to meet her. She deserves to be included in my happiness, and I want my mom back.

VIKING

Another pint-sized thug
charges at me, and I drive my blade into his chest, following up by swinging my hatchet into his kidney. It’s messy, but it works. At this point of the trip, I’m done fucking around.

I don’t know what the hell they’re feeding these assholes down here, but they’re goddamn runts compared to the brothers and me. It’s not that I’m complaining, there’s like twenty of them on us at a time. Not to mention they’re loaded down with weapons and walkie-talkies to call for more backup. At least I figure that’s what they’re radioing for; I have no idea. Watch it be a tank or some shit. After the run-in with the lions, couldn’t say it’d surprise me.

Shorty drops to the ground, gurgling in agony as he bleeds out. One of his buddies runs at me, and then falls flat on his ass when I extend my leg, getting him with a strong kick to the ribs. He gasps, attempting to catch his breath as I stride over to him and finish him off with a few swift kicks to his skull. Size fourteen, steel toed boots will do some serious damage when properly executed.

“Stupid fucker.” Grumbling, I shake my head at the two dead idiots at my feet. “Drink a damn protein shake next time.”

Saint steps beside me, covered in blood.

“Looks like you were playing with your food again.”

He smiles widely, and then let’s loose a loud, wicked laugh. “Hell yes, you know I like them bloody! Oh and Ex wants us to keep moving; he said to hit up the shed on the left. They’re checking the right, and then we need to meet back behind our building in case we need some cover.”

Nodding, I take the lead toward the small shack.

This place is trippy; it’s littered with these random square structures built out of cinder blocks. Reminds me of something you’d see when building a basement. Each has a steel door with a padlock holding it closed and one window covered in bars. I don’t know if they were making temporary cells to sort drugs or what.

Part of me’s a little hesitant to open them, knowing they’ve kidnapped people and shit. I swear if I open one and find a kid that’s been fucked up, I’m liable to go Rambo on every motherfucker here, taking them all out.

Saint digs through his rucksack again, coming back with some sturdy metal cutters. It takes him seconds to get the cheap lock off and step to the side. Putting everything away, he replaces it with his fully-automatic Glock Eighteen with a silencer. Once he’s ready, he nods.

Heaving the thick metal open, Saint points his weapon, ready to shoot any potential threats.

“Fuck,” I mutter out with a sigh.

“Holy shit, that’s all heroin?”

“Looks like it. Ex said we could bring some shit back with us if we had time, but I’m not running no fuckin’ H.”

“I have lighter fluid; we could try torching the place after we find the Russian.”

“Sounds good to me.”

Closing the door behind us, we silently creep around the back and wait for everyone else to meet up so we can go over the rest of the plan.

Leaning against the building, Saint glances over at me. “You talk to your Ol’ Lady?”

“Not today. What’s it to you?”

“Nothin’ brother, but bitches like it when you call them every day and text them pictures.”

“Thanks for that life changing advice you just shared with me; I’m fucking touched.”

He chuckles, “Just trying to give you a one up on keeping her locked down and all.”

“Cinderella knows better than to pull any drama bullshit with me, making demands and what the fuck ever else chicks try to do. She’s not going anywhere.”

He shakes his head. “You think she’s submissive and always gonna do what you want, but you’re wrong. She’s fucking smart, bro; she’s an observer, like Sinner. He met her at the door the other night when she came to the bar. Didn’t say two words to a soul all night; anyone else would’ve thought she wasn’t paying attention, but I watched her the entire time. She has that same mask her father does; you can’t read her. She only lets you see what she wants you to. At the very end of the night, she mutters out a few words about you, brutally fucking honest. I think a few brothers damn near choked when they heard her speak and not to give a fuck whether we agreed or not. She’s got strength. She might let you think she’s pliable, but I’m warnin’ you, stay on your fuckin’ toes, ‘cause better believe she’s gonna keep you on them.”

After his big spiel, I’m stunned. How the hell did he get all that about her, but I haven’t and I’ve spent the most time with her over anyone else? I know Cinderella’s smart; it’s one of the many things I find hot as fuck about her.
But
I also thought she was just naturally more of a quiet person like me.

I can see her being observant. He’s also right that I do believe she’s submissive. She could be a natural sexual submissive but not in another part of life. It would explain a lot. Not that I give her much of a choice, anyhow; I’m dominant. I’ve known it since the first female I fucked. Hell, even the first one I kissed, ended with me controlling it.

“I’ll give it some thought. I’m fucking surprised you got all that.”

He shrugs. “I have a lot of experience with chicks.”

Pulling my phone out, I check to see if there’s anything from her, but my screen’s blank. I start to put it away but think of his advice.

Me: I may make it back by dinner. Fingers crossed. Be ready.

That sounds good and to the point, so I hit send and start to stuff it in my pocket when it vibrates. Immediately I draw in a breath, excited she replied so fast. Clicking the message icon, it’s some shit telling me that the message wasn’t sent.

I start to retype it when Sinner rounds the corner. Saint and I jump from leaning against the building, having relaxed our backs against the cool blocks in the shade. Holding the power button, the cell turns back off, and I stuff it in my pocket.

Sinner rests his hand on the shoulder of a dark haired woman, walking her forward.

“Who the fuck’s this?” I mumble, scanning her over.

“She was one of them cleaning. Ex said if we found any of the maids that they may be able to give us intel.”

“Where’s everyone else?”

“They’re still in the main house searching.”

Saint gapes. “We were supposed to check the small buildings, not the main house. You should’ve waited for me.”

“I’m straight; they had my six,” Sinner replies, pushing the lady’s back against the wall, so she’s facing us all. “Should we question her now, or wait for the brothers to get done?”

“Ex has the most info, so let’s just wait for him.”

They both agree, and we grow silent, all staring at the maid, curiously. She must be used to strange men watching her because she stands still, not cowering into herself. Most women put on display to three huge guys would be scared out of their minds. This one’s calm, like it’s a normal occurrence.

Male shouts followed by multiple guns firing ring out, putting us on alarm. Saint peeks around the corner to see what’s happening.

“Shit,” he mutters, glancing back at us. “The brothers are running toward us.”

Suddenly they go flying by, Nightmare shouting, “Get the fuck outta here! Come on!”

“You want her?” I ask Sinner.

“Hell yes, she could be our only hope.”

Snatching her away from the wall, I toss her over my shoulder in a fireman’s carry and take off after the guys. Saint and Sinner flank me on each side, shooting while I concentrate on not losing the maid as she bounces along.

Arriving at the outer property wall, we’re trapped inside if we don’t go over the fence and into the lion’s den again.

“The fuck we gonna do now?” Ruger huffs, staring down the solid barrier that’s keeping us from our freedom.

“Follow my lead, keep your gun on you and shoot anything that moves too close.”

I don’t see any lions chilling anywhere, so I start climbing as quickly as possible. Eventually getting high enough to reach the top of the wall, I move my body until I’m lying on the ledge looking down on the other side.

Spider shouts for the other brothers to hurry up and climb faster because the cartel guys are catching up.

“This is gonna hurt,” I mutter to the maid and push her off me.

She flies through the air, quickly meeting the hard ground with a yelp. Launching myself off afterward, I try to position how to land somewhat decently since I already know what to expect from earlier. The maid’s obviously scared now as she silently cries, not looking at me but it’s no love lost on my part. She’s lucky I didn’t drop her ass in with the lions on accident.

The brothers start jumping from the wall and as they land we help each other up, waiting until the last one’s over, and then make a run for our bikes. We’re about halfway to our freedom when we hear a surprisingly loud roar. Casting a glance back, while keeping my pace, I watch as a lion rips into one of the Cartel guys who’d just hit the ground. Two men sprint, taking off toward the front of the Compound and the other lion gives chase, eventually jumping on them and brutally attacking as they scream in agony.

“The wall!” I gasp as we reach our rides.

We’d blown a huge fucking hole into the barrier where we’d broken in. At the time, though, we had no idea it led inside a makeshift den. It looks like we unknowingly granted their freedom as well.

Nightmare cocks an eyebrow. “I think those fuckers trying to kill us, unintentionally saved our lives.”

Ex barks, “Sinner, have the bitch ride back with you.” Then he starts his engine with us following suit.

It’s clear by Sinner’s pissed off expression that he’s not happy getting tasked with babysitter duties, but he’s the one who found her after all. I never get a chance to text Princess as we race off in the early morning air. It’s barely seven a.m., and we’ve already been through enough hell for the day.

At least I get to see my woman tonight. She’ll make the eleven-hour ride completely worth it.

It’s been a few
days since I received the text from Viking letting me know that he was going out of town, so imagine my surprise when my phone rings and of all people, it’s Scot calling me.

Immediately, I spaz out, jumping to conclusions that Viking was dead, and Scot, being the one semi in charge, was calling to tell me about it. Talk about overreacting. Bethany’s baby news has had me on pins and needles, automatically jumping to wild conclusions on everything, even the small stuff.

The poor man barely got three words in before I was peppering him with questions about why and how it happened. Chuckling loudly, he’d ignored my craziness and told me that it would be a cold day in hell when someone was able to kill that rotten bastard.