HANDS OFF MY WIFE_Black Cossacks MC

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HANDS OFF MY WIFE_Black Cossacks MC Page 22

by Claire St. Rose


  “Everything's going to be okay, Michelle,” I said.

  “I don't understand what's happening,” she sobbed.

  “Have they hurt you?” I asked softly.

  Michelle shook her head. “Not really,” she said. “A couple of slaps, but that's all.”

  I bit back a scream of pain when El Segador grabbed a fistful of my hair and hauled me to my feet. He put his face inches from mine. I could smell the mix of beer and cigarettes on his breath and it made me want to gag.

  “There, see?” he said. “Your friend is just fine. Now, it's time to get down to business.”

  “What do you want from me?”

  He smiled. “Not much,” he said. “Just a picture for now.”

  Spinning me around, he put his arm around my neck and pulled me close to his body. Holding my phone up, he planted a kiss on my cheek and took a selfie of us. Laughing, he pushed me toward one of his men who grabbed hold of my arm and held me fast.

  “We're going to send this little picture to your man,” El Segador said. “Show him we're treatin' you real good here.” The man scrolled through my phone, looking for King's number. He pushed a few buttons and then I heard the distinctive sound of a text message going through.

  “What did you tell him?” I asked.

  He shrugged. “I just asked if he was ready to do business,” he said. “Or if I needed to start sending him your fingers one at a time until he was.” A moment later, my phone chirped, announcing a new text message. El Segador looked at me and grinned. “It's your man,” he said. “He seems to have a temper on him. Is he always this angry with you?”

  “Fuck you,” I spat.

  El Segador shrugged. “Then again, maybe you two are perfect for each other,” as he keyed in another response and sent it. “There. Now, he has the address where he can find you.” Another message from King came through and El Segador smiled. He walked over and showed it to me. I'm coming for you, you piece of shit, it read. You're FUCKING DEAD! “Now, we just sit back and wait for your man to show up,” he said. “And we've got a few surprises for him when he does.”

  I was forced to sit down in a chair next to Michelle as El Segador left the room. His men stood at the door, glaring at us. All I could do was sit there and wait – and pray King was smart enough to know he was walking into a trap and to have a plan in place.

  CHAPTER THIRTY SIX

  KING

  We'd ridden out just after Oliver had gotten us the location and were already on a hill behind the warehouse when El Segador's taunting messages had come through. At first, when I saw the picture of him with Abbie, I wanted nothing more than to race right down the hill and beat his face in. But I knew doing so would be doing exactly what he wanted me to do. And that was the last thing I wanted or needed to do.

  I'd replied to the messages, trying to sound as angry and out of control as El Segador expected me to be. I was hoping he'd think we were going to just come storming in there recklessly. I wanted him to think I was freaking out and would behave erratically. But I had other plans.

  “I can see a few guys through the windows,” Drew said as he handed me a pair of binoculars. “I don't see anybody up on the roof, though. No snipers or anything.”

  We'd parked about a quarter-mile away on a back road and had hiked in from there to avoid being heard or seen and were standing in the shade and shadow of a small copse of trees on the hills that ran behind the warehouses. A dozen of us in all. I'd wanted to keep the group small enough to move quickly and avoid easy detection, but large enough to deal with whatever came up – because there would always inevitably be something that came up.

  Holding the binoculars to my eyes, I scanned the area below. I didn't see anybody laying in wait on the rooftops or on the ground, but that didn't mean they weren't there. I did see some of the Incas through the windows of the warehouse like Drew had said. And they appeared to be carrying some serious heat.

  “Automatic rifles,” I said. “Look like AR-15s, probably. At least, that's what the guys I can see are holding.”

  “Packing a lot of firepower,” Drew said.

  I nodded.

  “What are we going to do about that?”

  I shrugged. “Not sure yet,” I said. “Avoid getting shot?”

  He gave me a rueful smirk. “I was hoping you had something resembling a plan in place here, man.”

  “I'm working on it.”

  I took a few steps away and trained the binoculars on the building again. I searched the windows, looking for any sign, any trace of Abbie. But I saw nothing. They had her in there, I was sure of it. But she was obviously deeper in the building.

  “So, what's up, King?” El asked. “We goin' in there or what, man?”

  The men were getting antsy. Anxious. They wanted to go straight down the hill and take the Incas head on. But seeing how heavily armed they were, I knew we'd be walking into a buzzsaw. I looked around, trying to find a way into that warehouse without being seen. But I saw nothing. They were going to spot us long before we even got near the doors. And before we knew it, their bullets would be tearing us to pieces.

  “Not yet, El,” I said. “I have to find a way in without being seen.

  “Come on, man,” El said. “We've been up here for half an hour. Let's just go in there and start breaking some heads.”

  I shook my head. “Those pricks are armed to the teeth, El,” I said. “I'm not going to put your lives at risk until I know how to do it as safely as possible.”

  El sighed. “What if we're all willing to accept the risks? And the consequences?”

  I shook my head. “No,” my voice was sharp and firm. “I'm calling the shots here, El. Nobody is going anywhere yet.”

  “Fine,” he shook his head and stalked off, grumbling under his breath.

  I didn't have the time to deal with his attitude. If they wanted to remove me as club president later, fine. Have at it. But until then, it was my club to run. And if I said nobody was going in there, then goddammit, nobody was going in there.

  “It's too bad we don't have somebody to go in there for us,” Drew chuckled as he stepped up beside me.

  I looked at the building again and then over at Drew as an idea began to form in my head. “Maybe we do,” I said.

  “Do what?”

  “Have somebody who can go in for us.”

  “What are you talking about, man?” Drew asked.

  I pulled my phone out of my pocket and dialed a number. Drew gave me a questioning look as I held the phone to my ear. “Detective Mahoney, please,” I said after the call was answered.

  Drew's eyes grew wide and I cleared my throat as I waited for the call to be connected. I walked away from the group to make sure they couldn't overhear me – I knew they weren't going to like the plan I'd come up with. After a moment, I heard his gruff voice on the other end of the line.

  “Mahoney.”

  “It's King,” I said.

  “What in the hell do you want, dirtbag?”

  “I want to make a deal,” I said. “A deal that's going to benefit both of us.”

  “What could you possibly offer me that I'd want?”

  “How about the biggest bust of your career?” I asked. “I bet if you play this right, you can make Detective Sergeant out of this.”

  “What the fuck are you talking about, King?”

  I glanced over at Drew, who gave me an expression that pretty much asked the same question Mahoney just had.

  “I can give you the Incas,” I said. “Serve them up to you on a silver fuckin' platter.”

  “Oh yeah?” he asked, his voice thick with skepticism. “Why aren't you and your dirtbags just going in and dispensing justice your way?”

  “I told you, we don't operate like that,” I said. “We don't commit acts of violence. That's not our thing, Mahoney.”

  “Yeah, right,” he sneered. “Whatever you say, chief.”

  “Look, I don't give a shit if you believe me or not, man,” I sna
pped. “But I'm making you a serious offer here. I can help make your goddamn career. If you're not into it, put me through to somebody who is.”

  There was a long pause on the line as Mahoney weighed all of his options. I finally heard a sigh and, when he spoke, the irritation in his voice was unmistakable. “What do you have?” he grumbled.

  “The Incas are in a warehouse at the edge of town,” I said. “They've got two hostages – ”

  “How do you know this?” he interrupted me.

  “Because we're here right now,” I said.

  “Oh, I see,” Mahoney said. “You're giving this to me hoping we'll come in to save your ass. What's the matter, King? In over your head?”

  The fact of the matter was, we actually were in over our heads and I was banking on an assist from the cops to pull our asses out. But I couldn't tell Mahoney that.

  “Like I've told you a million times, man,” I said, “we're not the thugs and criminals you think we are.”

  “Right,” he said. “So, what's your angle here? What's in this for you?”

  I paused for a moment and sighed. “They've got Abbie,” I said. “They're holding her and it looks like one of her friends in the warehouse.”

  “I see,” Mahoney said. “So, you expect me to just come running in like the goddamn cavalry to save her ass?”

  “Time's ticking, Mahoney,” I said. “Every second you dick around on the phone with me is another second closer to them putting a bullet in Abbie. How's that going to play for you? I'm recording this call, so everybody's going to know you had the chance to stop it and did nothing.”

  My patience was growing thin. This had been a Hail Mary from the start, and I was only half surprised that he wasn't taking the bait – if for no other reason than to spite me.

  “You know what, Mahoney?” I snapped. “Forget it. We'll deal with this shit ourselves.”

  “Hold up a second, King,” he said quickly. “I didn't say I wasn't going to help.”

  “You bring your buddies down here,” I said. “And I'll sweeten the pot and turn myself in to you.”

  He said nothing for a moment, but I could well imagine the bolt of excitement coursing through his body at that moment. He'd wanted to put me in cuffs for years and now, I was going to give him his chance.

  “Tell me what we're dealing with out there, King,” he said.

  “I've seen at least fifteen men through the windows of the warehouse,” I said. “All of them seem to be armed to the teeth. Military grade shit. So keep your head on a swivel if you come out here. You're also likely going to find a metric assload of heroin in that warehouse.”

  Mahoney whistled low on the other end of the line but said nothing else.

  “Like I said, I'm going to make your career for you,” I said.

  “Just stay where you are, King,” he said. “And don't even think about going into that warehouse. The last thing I need is to send my guys into the middle of a gunfight.”

  “I've got no intention of going in there,” I admitted. “Just get your asses out here on the double.”

  “Give me the address.”

  I gave it to him and disconnected the call. Drew looked over at me, apprehension in his eyes.

  “I really hope you know what you're doing,” he said.

  I gave him a grim smile. “Yeah, me too.”

  I turned and walked over to the rest of the guys. They all looked back at me with expressions that were tense. Grim. They wanted their crack at the Incas, which made what I was about to tell them a bit awkward and difficult.

  “Look guys,” I said, “The Incas have some serious hardware in that warehouse. I'm not willing to risk your lives to go in there and get Abbie.”

  “What about justice for Dawkins?” somebody asked.

  “He'll get his justice,” I said. “We just won't be the ones dispensing it this time.”

  They all looked at one another and then back at me questioningly. This was going to be the part that was really tricky. I cleared my throat. “I called the cops,” I said. “They're going to do the heavy lifting for us here.”

  There were murmurs of outrage and anger among the crowd. They wanted to go down there and beat some heads in, not sit around and watch the cops go in our place. They felt it was our duty, our responsibility to avenge Dawkins. I disagreed.

  “Come on, guys,” I said. “We go stormin' in there, all of us are probably going to die. How is that giving Dawkins the justice he deserves?”

  “How is squealing to the cops giving him the justice he deserves?” somebody said.

  “Because at least the Incas are going to be off the streets and rotting in prison,” I said. “Which is a hell of a lot better than all of us rotting in a grave because we needed to play the fuckin' hero. After this, if you want to remove me from office, so be it. But my priority right now – as the leader of this club – is to protect you, protect this club, and to get Abbie back safe and sound.”

  There was still some grumbling, but it was less and sounded less angry. Which I took to be a good sign. Overhead, we heard a helicopter closing in – the cops, no doubt. And when I turned and looked at the streets around the warehouse, I saw it filling with cops in tactical gear. It was about to go down.

  “Here we go,” I said softly.

  The helicopter swooped in low and hovered over the warehouse as the tactical teams began trying to breach the building. I felt my body tense as the sound of the first shots rang out.

  CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN

  ABBIE

  “What the fuck is goin' on out there?” El Segador shouted.

  He'd returned to the office with a gun in his hand when we heard the sound of a helicopter hovering overhead. The sound of a voice from the loudspeaker began to echo through the warehouse.

  “This is the police,” it said. “We have the building surrounded. Come out with your hands in the air.”

  I looked over at Michelle and she looked back at me, a sense of hope blooming within our chests. For the first time since we'd been dragged into this mess, we had hope that we were about to be rescued, that somebody was coming for us. Instinctively, I knew King was somehow behind it. I didn't know how he'd done it, and I didn't care. Just so long as we got out of there alive and in one piece.

  I flinched and felt my heart tripping over itself when I heard the sound of gunfire. It echoed around the warehouse, sounding like cannon shots. El Segador grabbed me by the hair and dragged me out of the office, leaving Michelle behind, still tied to the chair.

  “Don't worry, Michelle,” I said. “It's going to be okay. They're coming for us.”

  My head snapped backward and the coppery taste of blood filled my mouth. As tears filled my eyes, I looked up and realized El Segador had smacked me across the face. The look of rage mixed with worry that filled his face struck a chord within me – and I couldn't help but laugh.

  “You stepped in it this time,” I cackled. “How are you gonna get your ass out of this sling?”

  He cocked his fist back and glared at me for a moment before lowering it again. “Shut the fuck up, bitch,” he said. “You're my ticket out of here.”

  Sunlight flooded the interior of the warehouse as a door to the outside was flung open. I saw the police pouring through the door and take up positions behind crates and barrels that had been left strewn about. Some of El Segador's men who'd been shooting at the helicopter through the windows refocused their attention on the more immediate threat – the battalion of cops coming straight at them.

  El Segador pulled me behind a wall and with an arm around my neck, pulled me close to his body. He held the gun up and leaned around the corner. His men had taken positions behind the debris in the warehouse and began opening fire on the police who had been advancing.

  “Drop your weapons,” came a voice through a bullhorn. “Drop them and put your hands in the air. Now.”

  One of the Incas stood up and began spraying bullets toward the cops. When his gun ran empty, I watched hi
s body twitch and jerk as the bullets tore through him when the police returned fire. His broken, bullet-riddled body fell to the floor with a meaty thud.

  “Keep shooting!” El Segador roared, the near panic in his voice more than clear.

  He leaned around the corner and began firing shots at the cops with his own gun. It was my one chance. I raised my foot and drove the heel down hard on his foot at the same time I threw my head back, catching him across the bridge of the nose. He grunted in pain, and his grip on me loosened just enough for me to pull away.

 

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