Angel's Halo: Reclaimed (Angel's Halo MC #4)

Home > Romance > Angel's Halo: Reclaimed (Angel's Halo MC #4) > Page 12
Angel's Halo: Reclaimed (Angel's Halo MC #4) Page 12

by Terri Anne Browning


  “I kind of hope he passes out so I won’t have to force those damn antibiotics down his throat again,” Flick muttered as she lifted her head long enough to glance over at Hawk before turning back to her magazine. “Think he’s going to hate me forever?”

  From the bored expression on her beautiful face, someone wouldn’t realize that she was feeling hurt by that thought. But I could tell by the way her fingers trembled as she turned the page of her magazine that the thought of Hawk hating her forever bothered her more than she wanted anyone to see. I couldn’t help the shot of jealousy that pierced my chest.

  Clenching my jaw, I shrugged. “He’ll get over it in a few days. He’s just got a lot of shit going on in his head right now. Once he has Gracie back where she belongs, he’ll calm down.”

  “His being calm is the problem right now,” she said with a sigh and lowered the magazine, obviously giving up on pretending to read it for the moment. “He’s scary as hell like this, Jet. I don’t know where his head is right now, but if he keeps this up I’m scared he’s going to charge into a trap without thinking about it and get himself shot to pieces.”

  I wasn’t about to tell her that I had the same fear. My brother wouldn’t appreciate it if I voiced the same misgivings. I knew that if I were in his shoes and it had been Flick who had gotten snatched, I would have been in the same frame of mind. Fuck, it was exactly how I’d felt when I’d found her beaten half to death after Westcliffe had gotten done with her. By the time I’d actually gotten my hands on the bastard, my rage had been overflowing and I hadn’t hesitated as I’d given my ex-best-friend the same beating he’d inflicted on my female. Just as he’d taken my unborn child’s life, I’d taken his. I didn’t regret his death, only that I couldn’t bring him back and do it over and over again.

  Hawk was probably feeling the same way…

  Ciro and his men were waiting outside the airport when we arrived at a little after seven that evening. He had five, huge, black SUVs waiting on us. He stepped out of the back of one and his eyes went from one biker to the next before they zeroed in on Flick. She let out a small laugh as she threw herself into her cousin’s arms.

  Around me, the other men were taking in the men in suits who were getting out of the other vehicles. We all knew they were all packing and we itched to have our own guns. I’d told Ciro to have us some waiting, as well as the knives that Hawk wanted. My brother was already planning on how he was going to cut up the bastards who had taken Gracie. Uncle Jack was just as torn up over the fact his granddaughter had been snatched, but he had been handling his emotions a little better than Hawk. And by better, I meant a little more vocally. He’d already told me in detail how he wanted to handle his granddaughter’s paternal grandfather.

  “You are even more beautiful than I remember, little cousin,” Ciro muttered so low that only I heard him because I was standing so close to Flick as he enfolded her against his chest. Very few people knew that Flick was Ciro’s cousin and that was the way we all wanted to keep it. If everyone knew that she was family, his enemies would target her to get to him.

  I’d seen some scary fuckers in my life, Bash being at the top of the list followed quickly by Spider. Ciro Donati would always be in the number-one slot, though. It wasn’t any one thing about the man that screamed dangerous, it was the whole package. From the tilt of his chin, the way that ivy cap was pulled low over his cold blue eyes, even the expensive suit that couldn’t hide the muscles underneath. Standing at six and a half feet, he was only two inches taller than I was, but he was several years younger. Only twenty-five years old, he was the youngest street soldier on Vitucci’s payroll, but he was the deadliest.

  As Vito Vitucci’s godson and Cristiano Vitucci’s best friend, he was the most feared man on the East Coast if not all of North America.

  Ciro released his hold on Flick and stepped back. “It’s good to see you, Felicity. I apologize it is under such tense circumstances, though. I’ll have to find time to come to California to visit with you more.”

  “Have you found out anything yet?” she asked softly.

  He turned toward the five large SUVs. “Let’s get off the street. Jet, your boys can divide up between the other vehicles with my men. You and Hawk may ride with me and Felicity.”

  “I’m not Club president anymore, Ciro,” I reminded the other man. I’d put my cut back on as soon as I could touch the thing, but I was happy just to be able to do that. To be able to call myself part of the Club again. Bash was perfect in the role as president and I sure as hell didn’t want that position back. Fuck, I wasn’t going to push Flick’s limits. She’d said she wanted me back in the Club. That was enough for me. “Hawk is VP now, so you should go through him.”

  “I don’t recognize your new president,” Ciro said with a clench of his jaw. “Sebastian Reid is no friend of mine. I will go through your brother, however, if that is what you wish.”

  Flick blew out a frustrated sigh and shot her cousin a smirk before climbing into the back of the SUV he was helping her into. “You need to get over that, Ciro.”

  “It’s not in my nature.”

  “Of course not,” she muttered and looked at me long enough to roll her pretty blue eyes before taking her seat.

  My heart squeezed at the look she’d given me. With the chaos that had been going on all day, it felt like we’d stepped back in time. She was turning to me more and more, offering me the support during this fucked-up mess that she knew I needed but would never ask for.

  She scooted over to the middle of the seat and I climbed in next to her, tucking her close while Hawk carefully took the other window seat. Once Ciro was in the front passenger seat, the driver pulled out into traffic and Ciro turned in his seat to face us.

  “I’ve had my men watching the Morgans. There has been some unusual activity out of Connecticut the last few days, it seems.”

  Hawk’s fists clenched, but he didn’t speak.

  “Vito has personally spoken to your lawyer, Jenkins, so he knows as much as I currently do. After some careful digging we have found that the elder Morgan is facing possible bankruptcy due to some recent unwise investments. He has no money of his own left. His son, your woman’s uncle, is following close behind. The money that was left to her would assist them greatly in getting back on their feet.”

  “So why don’t they just take the money?” Hawk’s voice was still dangerously calm despite the way his fists were clenched.

  “It’s all about legalities. Neither man can touch her money. The lawyers have it tied up tight. They need her before it will be released…And I assume you know the stipulations of her father’s will?”

  “She’s not marrying anyone but me.”

  Ciro inclined his head. “That’s good and all, but Morgan and his son must approve of the marriage, yeah?”

  “Yeah,” Hawk gritted out.

  “That’s what your man Jenkins said. It seems that the elder Morgan has already found his granddaughter a husband, however.”

  My brother’s gaze didn’t waver from Ciro’s but it was Flick who spoke. “Who?”

  Ciro grimaced. “Through my connections I have learned that the Morgans have reached an understanding with Santino, who has been wanting to set up house here. He has been trying to take over our East Coast businesses for years, but hasn’t been able to because he doesn’t have the right connections.”

  “What the fuck does that have to do with Gracie?” Hawk bit out.

  “Morgan has the right connections Santino needs,” Ciro explained. “Politically at least, which is exactly what they have been in need of. Marrying off the granddaughter to Santino’s son puts them in a position that makes Vito very uncomfortable.”

  Everything inside of me went cold. Motherfucking hell. I’d had to deal with Santino’s bullshit for years. I knew exactly how the man was, but his son was a cruel sonofabitch. He beat his women bloody. Spider and Bash had given one or two of them jobs at Paradise City over the years, offering them a
safe house while they healed. They usually ended up staying because the alternative, the life they would have outside of the MC’s protection, wasn’t worth living.

  Hawk and I shared a knowing look over Flick’s head and the look in my brother’s eyes told their own story. Carlo Santino had a very short life expectancy if he touched Gracie.

  “So they took her for what?” Flick muttered. “A shotgun wedding?”

  “More like an AK wedding, babe,” I told her, trying to ease some of the growing tension filling up the SUV.

  “Is she with them?” Hawk was clenching and unclenching his fists now.

  “There has been movement in and out of Morgan’s Connecticut residence, but so far no sign of your Gracie. I’ve got eyes on the house there as well as a few locations that Santino has here in the city.” Ciro glanced at the driver for a quick moment before turning his gaze back on us. “I could’ve taken the house at any time, but have been waiting on your arrival before making a move. I didn’t want to chance your woman being there and getting hurt by mistake.”

  “Legally…” Hawk started and sucked in a deep breath before continuing, making me wonder just how bad his pain really was. “Legally, if Gracie turned out to be Morgan’s daughter, what would happen to the money that her grandfather seems to want so desperately?”

  Ciro shook his head. “I don’t know. I’m not a lawyer and I don’t know the specifics of the will. I would only assume that it would still stand. Without a DNA test there is no way to disprove her paternity and at the speed the Morgans are currently moving, they wouldn’t need it to get the money released once she has married Santino’s son. Once they have the marriage certificate, the money will be released to her and they plan to highjack it.”

  “Right.” Hawk nodded. “Let’s pay a visit to the old fucker. You got someplace safe we can drop Flick off at?”

  I felt Flick stiffen beside me. “I’m not going anywhere without you guys. I promised Raven I would watch out for you and I’m not breaking that promise.”

  Hawk didn’t even look at her. “Vito’s place okay?”

  “Scarlet and Victoria are home, so that is out of the question,” Ciro informed us with a twitch of his lips at the mention of his boss’s twin daughters. “My mother was hoping to visit with Felicity. I’ll drop her off at my parents’ home and we’ll go straight from there.”

  “I’m going with Hawk and Jet,” Flick told him with a stubborn tilt to her chin that I remembered well.

  “You’ll go where you’re told to go,” Hawk snapped, his first sign of real emotion in hours. “You have no business even being here.”

  “Jet.” She didn’t even try to argue with him as she turned those pretty blue eyes on me, a plea in them that I would have been helpless to ignore if it had been any other time.

  This time I knew I couldn’t give in, even if it damned me that much more in her eyes. If Santino and his men were at the Connecticut house, there was no doubt there would be bullets flying as soon as we got there. I wouldn’t risk her safety even to soften her toward me.

  Clenching my jaw, I turned my eyes on Ciro. “Drop her.”

  I heard her suck in a pained-filled breath but didn’t dare look at her right then. Right now, when I could only guess how dangerous the situation we were about to walk into was, I couldn’t risk her. I’d gladly let her think it was the ruthless bastard in me by doing it without a flicker of emotion showing on my face. Because keeping this female safe was the only thing that kept me sane right then.

  Chapter Eleven

  Hawk

  Everyone around me was talking about the plan to storm Morgan’s house. Strategizing on who needed to be where, who was going in first, what exits we should use. It wasn’t like we could just walk up and knock on his fucking door. Santino and his men were there, with who knew how many guns. We couldn’t risk Gracie by going in half cocked and blowing the place to pieces.

  Even if that was what I wanted.

  I had to remind myself that I had to be patient. I wouldn’t risk so much as a hair on Gracie’s precious head. It was hard to keep that in mind when my body was one huge ball of pain and my heart was throbbing from being away from Gracie for too long.

  Was she okay? Was she scared? Had anyone touched her?

  Those questions were driving me to the edge of madness because I didn’t know.

  I fucking needed to know.

  “How much pain are you in?”

  I lifted my head to find Ciro’s scary ass standing beside me. The set of his jaw and the way his blue eyes shot cold fire out from under his ivy cap didn’t intimidate me like it did his own men. I’d worked with this huge Mafioso for over five years now.

  “I’m fine,” I gritted out.

  Ciro watched me with his predatory eyes for a long moment before shrugging and turning back to the other men. “Jet, you take Trigger and Colt and enter from the front. Jack, Raider, and Matt, from the side. My men will take the rear.”

  I stiffened at this new plan. “What the fuck are you doing?”

  “Keeping your dumb ass alive for your sister and woman.” He spoke without looking at me and then went back to giving out orders.

  I stepped forward, not scared to get in his face. I’d face the devil himself to get to Gracie. Ciro wasn’t far off, and I would take him on in a heartbeat if that was what it would take to get to her sooner. “I’m going in the front.”

  “Sure you are,” he agreed without batting an eye. “With me.”

  “No way. I’m going in first. Gracie needs me.” I was shaking with rage—and pain. Fucking hell, I hurt so damn bad. My shoulder wound pulled and ached like a motherfucker and the one in my back was just as bad. I could barely lift my shoulder, but I wasn’t going to let that stop me from doing what I needed to do.

  Ciro blew out a long, frustrated breath. “Your Gracie needs you breathing, dumbass. You can barely move for the pain and I’m not going to have your death on my conscious. So pay attention or I’ll make sure you don’t go anywhere.”

  Knowing I had no choice, I bit back a curse and crossed my arms over my chest, not caring that it made my shoulder hurt that much more. Fuck Ciro. Fuck anyone who got in my way. If something happened to Gracie because I wasn’t through the door first, I would slit their throats.

  “Alright. Let’s get packed up. We will be at Morgan’s house within twenty minutes.” Ciro nodded at his men and everyone checked their guns before they filed out of the small building we’d stopped at to strategize before heading on to Morgan’s home in Connecticut.

  It was dark out, the moon offering little light to see by as the others got into the five SUVs. I wanted to be in the same one as Jet, the one that would arrive first, but Ciro gripped my shoulder—the one that hurt like a bitch—and tightened his hold until everyone was where they needed to be. With no room in any of the other vehicles, I was forced to climb into the back of the last one with Ciro.

  “Keep your head.”

  I didn’t look at him as the driver got behind the wheel and started the SUV, turning my gaze to glare out the window into the dark night instead. I wanted to punch the man in the face, break his jaw and a few teeth in the process, but that would get me nowhere but dead before I could hold Gracie again.

  “I know how you feel, but if you want to keep your woman alive this is how we have to do it.”

  My head snapped around. “You don’t know shit. She’s the fucking air in my chest. If something happens to her…”

  Something on Ciro’s face stopped me from saying anything else. Even in the dark interior of the vehicle I could make out the almost bleak look in the guy’s eyes. Muttering a curse, I turned back to the window, not wanting to see that look. It only mirrored my own.

  Before we reached the Morgan estate Ciro put in his earpiece and started reminding his men of the plan. I knew Jet and Uncle Jack had one too and wanted one of my own so that I could at least hear what was about to happen. Fuck, we didn’t even know if Gracie was at Morgan’s
house. She could be anywhere.

  The SUV we were in slowed as the three in the lead sped forward. I felt like a blind man struggling to find his way as I waited. My heart was racing, my palms sweaty, my body one big throbbing pain. Fear of the unknown churned in my gut as I waited. And waited. And waited.

  I heard gunshots in the distance, but nothing else. She was safe. She was safe. She was safe. I had to keep mentally repeating those three little words over and over again or I knew I was going to lose my shit. She was safe. She was safe.

  Please God, let her be safe.

  It felt like an eternity before Ciro was nodding his head at whatever he heard in his ear. “All clear. They have the house.”

  The SUV came to a stop outside the huge house and I didn’t waste time waiting for the driver to open my door as I pulled out my Glock and ran into the house. The front door had been kicked in, the expensive wood nothing more than a pile of splinters now. A man in a suit who I thought I recognized as one of Santino’s men was lying on the floor just inside the door. I didn’t know if he was alive or dead, and I didn’t care

  “She’s going to need a doctor,” I heard Uncle Jack say and my heart stuttered in my chest. Tears I didn’t care who saw burned my eyes as I rushed down the hall in the direction I’d heard my brothers’ voices coming from.

  “Yeah. That’s a bad wound and it looks like it’s infected. These bastards didn’t even care that she was shot.” Hearing Jet didn’t make the pain in my chest lessen any.

  I was going to vomit. I knew it. There would be no stopping it. I sucked in one deep breath after another and finally—finally—found the room where everyone was. They were in the family room, and my wild eyes searched around, taking everything in even as I looked frantically for Gracie.

  There were two more men in suits lying on the floor, blood pooling out around them. A man in a polo shirt, dress pants and graying hair sat on a chair with Trigger’s gun pointed at his head. That had to be Morgan. At his feet was another lifeless body. His eyes were open, but blank in death, but I could make out enough details to know that this was Morgan’s son.

 

‹ Prev