"Aye. Don't know what kinda magic Lo works, but she apparently did somethin' similar with Jstorm back in the day."
"And with all the men and women at Hailstorm - from all walks of life - with all kinds of damage. I imagine she's had loads of experience with damaged people."
She wouldn't openly admit it in so many words, but she was excited to meet Lo, had admired her from a distance since she found out what Hailstorm was.
Lou was a fan of all things badass.
She was in for a treat with the women of the girls club, both the original group, and the 2.0 version.
I wanted her to like them, too.
For selfish reasons.
Because I wanted her to fit in with my people, because I wanted to be able to hang at the compound with her, with my people, who could someday be our people.
Because, quite frankly, I was seeing a future.
Not just a long-term fucking situation.
Something more.
Something that meant givin' up our apartments, getting a place together, doing shite like shopping for furniture, for plates and dishes and glasses that matched and weren't swiped from people she'd done jobs on.
As for the other shite - the paperwork shite... that was up for debate. I didn't give a fuck either way. I didn't need a certificate to tell me how I was supposed to act, how I was supposed to behave with regard to my woman.
But if Lou decided she wanted that traditional thing - the knee, the ring, the dress, the paper, then I would give that to her happily.
All I knew was this was something. This was going somewhere.
So I was glad to integrate her into the parts of my life that she hadn't experienced yet.
"The food better be as good as you claim," Lou warned, giving me a look before we climbed out of her car after parking in the front yard of the compound beside countless other cars.
From up front, I could hear the thumping bass beat of one of Cash's 90s alt songs, knowing full-well that Repo would eventually decide he was over it, and put his metal on.
"It will be," I promised, wrapping an arm around her lower back, pulling her up to my side as we rounded the compound.
"I don't get a tour first?" she asked, attempting to plant her feet.
I'd swear - even if it seemed completely unlike her - that she was nervous.
I gave her hip a squeeze, pulling her along. "After we meet everyone," I promised just as we rounded the back of the compound.
"Oh, God," she groaned, planting her feet.
Maybe I hadn't told her just how many people would be at the party.
Thirteen Henchmen, their women, their kids, then the remaining single guys - Roan, Virgin, Roderick. Plus the other girls club members and their men. Alex, Breaker, Paine, Elsie, Shooter, Amelia, all their kids. I'd even invited Ward and Addy who said they'd stop by.
The place was packed.
Linny yanked at the leash in Lou's hand, wanting to go run and play with her new friends she had made in Rey's pack as well as Peyton's dog.
"Let her go. The whole place is fenced," I told her, watching as she reached down to unclasp her leash, the dog bounding outward happily, being greeted by Rey's loving pack, getting big-tongued kisses all over her face. "Come on. If we don't go to them, they're all gonna come to us at once."
Her face went pale at that, making me hold back a smile as I led her over toward Edison and Lenny who were standing with Repo and Maze.
"So you're the one who is supposed to be feeding me," she opened with when I introduced her to Repo.
"Whatever ration you planned to give her, triple it," I warned him.
She met everyone else in somewhat short order, some she ended up knowing - like Paine who did her tattoos, and Penny who she had somehow met a few times before, though they just knew each other by look - nothing else.
"And last but not least," I said, leading her over with me. "We have the biggest badass in the town... and her husband."
"That hurt," Cash said, putting a hand to his heart.
"So this is Lou," Lo said, face brightening. Because anyone who met the woman knew she lived for this shite. People finding partners.
"That's me," Lou agreed, trying to play it cool. And, had I not known her as well as I did, I'd have bought it. "And you must be Chris," she went on, giving the girl on Lo's side a small smile. "Have you been given a tour of the compound?" she asked, watching as the girl nodded. "You want to give me one? This lug keeps promising it, and not delivering."
"Sure," Chris agreed, brightening a little, seeming glad for a task to complete rather than having to stand around feeling awkward around a bunch of people who knew exactly what had happened to her.
"That was smart," Lo said as the pair walked away, nodding.
"To be fair, she likely wanted to get away too. This isn't her thing."
"What isn't?" Cash asked, turning back to me.
My lips curved up. "People," I told him, cupping him on the shoulder before walking away.
When she hadn't returned in twenty minutes, I went into the compound, looking for her in the main areas - especially around the bottle of Turkey I promised her.
But she was nowhere to be found.
Finally, I dragged myself up the ladder to the glass room, wondering if she was waiting to surprise me there.
To fulfill a fantasy.
Even if at a big party was a bit kinkier than I had planned.
"Roan, there's a party goin' on down there, ya know."
"I know," he agreed, looking off into the distance.
"The big bad is gone, mate," I added, shaking my head.
He'd seen in coming.
Had talked about it for a while before it came.
Like he could sense it on the wind.
"That's not the one I'm worried about."
"Everything is stable, Roan."
"Something is coming," he told me ominously. As if sensing my need to roll my eyes, he turned to me, those wild-animal eyes of his piercing mine. "Know how that sounds. But mark my words, there's something coming. Maybe not something like V, but something. I don't want to be caught off-guard."
Not sure what to say to that, I nodded. "Have you seen Lou?"
"Pretty girl with the Fuck Off, Asshole on her forehead?" he asked, lips curving up.
"That'd be my girl."
"She left."
"What?" I snapped, jerking back, immediately reaching for my phone, expecting an apology text saying she was overwhelmed or Geoff had a case too good to pass up. Something. But I had nothing.
"When? Why?"
"She and Chris walked outside after they came up here to check out the view. Your girl got a call. She said something to Chris, and took off."
Shite.
I'd have to talk to Chris.
Without permission from Cash and Lo.
"Thanks," I said, sliding down the ladder, rushing back out front, finding Chris leaning against the wall of the compound, just staring off into the field.
"Chris," I called, trying to keep my tone soft, if it was capable of such a thing.
"Yeah?" she asked, surprising me a bit at the normal-ness in her tone, no real fear in her voice.
"Do ya know where Lou went? Roan said she took off."
"She got a phone call," she admitted.
"Any idea what about?" At her guarded look, I shrugged. "I'm just worried about her. She's got some shite going on. I want to make sure she ain't going into somethin' unprepared. She didn't text me. Don't want to bother her if she's drivin'."
"It was a short call. But the guy on the other end was loud. He said something about that guy she was looking for. He got a ping, I think that was the word he said, on him."
"Any chance ya caught a location?"
"I don't know if he said the guy was there, but I heard him say Philly."
"Thanks, Chris. Ya are the best."
"Hey, Adler," she called as I made my way toward my bike that had been stashed at the side of the compound for a fe
w days since Lou was a freak about wanting to go everywhere in her car.
"Yeah?" I asked, half turning back.
"Take care of her," she demanded, voice almost a little desperate.
"She takes care of herself," I told her, watching as her chin raised, almost like she wanted the same to be said of her someday. "But I will make sure I am there if she needs me."
I cursed the bike seven ways to fucking Sunday as I drove down toward Philly, finding it impossible even to check my phone to see if Lou had contacted me, let alone try to call her myself.
But I pushed the speed limit, making it into the city in just about an hour and twenty, pulling off into a gas station, reaching for my phone, calling.
And calling.
And fucking calling.
I didn't like this.
She hadn't had time to prep for this.
To get her mind right.
I wasn't even sure she had really given the possibility of taking out her brother any real thought at all.
That was why he was last.
That was why she hadn't been able to find him when he wasn't even that far away, leading me to think she hadn't looked for him at all.
She certainly wasn't ready to go into this half-cocked.
"What?" I heard snapped into my ear, making me jolt, unprepared to hear her actually pick up since I called eight times with no response at all except for the robot voice of her answering machine.
"What? Ya answer with what after taking off without a word to go chase down yer brother?"
"Don't be snapping at me."
"Ya snapped at me first," I reminded her.
"Yes, well, you were being annoying," she informed me, something in her tone making me have to hold back a chuckle.
"Where are ya?"
"I'm pulled off at a rest stop to answer your excessive mother-hen phone calls. Why?"
"Ya can't do this alone."
"I've done all four others alone," she reminded me, stubbornness sneaking into her voice.
"This is different. Ya know it is."
"It's different, but doable. Why don't I hear party noises?" she asked, suspicious, clearly knowing me too well.
"I'm at a gas station in Philly."
"Go home, Adler. We have a dog that needs to be taken care of."
"When we don't show back up, Rey will take her home for us."
"You don't know that."
"I do," I shot back, knowing Rey would lose a limb trying to take care of any sort of defenseless animal.
"I don't want you in on this," she admitted a long moment later.
"Lou, it's yer mission. I'm not in on it. I just want to be there for ya. I think ya are underestimating what ya might go through when it's done. I don't want ya alone for that."
Again, there was a pause.
"Fine, you can stay at the motel. But that's it."
That wasn't it.
Not by a long-shot.
But I was willing to placate her just to get close to her.
"Alright," I agreed. "What motel?"
"I haven't figured that out yet," she admitted. "I was just trying to get into town first."
"Alright. I'll find a place and text ya an address."
Then I did that, sitting in a crummy motel because Lou wanted to be able to park outside the door, have to deal with less surveillance than a typical hotel would have, waiting for her to show up.
She did, thirty minutes later, looking anxious and flustered as she dropped down on the small desk chair.
"Ya alright?"
"I was stuck behind some soccer mom who must have had a broken fucking ankle because that is the only excuse for how reluctant she was to press her foot into the fucking gas pedal. Forty on the parkway. Forty."
"Talk to me, Lou," I half asked, half demanded.
"What do you want to hear?"
"Let's start with what ya know."
"I have a contact who has kept an eye on Monty's name for me. In official channels. On the dark web. There's been nothing. Not in all these years. Today, he pinged."
"In Philly."
"From what I gathered, he has moved up in the ranks in a gang here. Has a higher position. That was how he rose from obscurity to suddenly being mentioned. No one talks about footmen. They're a dime a dozen. But the people in power get out there."
"What's the gang into?"
"Heroin," she said, shrugging. "Nothing special."
"Anything else?"
"Nothing else from him. But I haven't done any digging yet."
"Will ya?"
"I know I seem impulsive in some of my jobs, but this is important. I make sure I do my research before I make a move."
"What are ya feelin' about this whole situation?"
"I'm feeling done. I want to be done," she admitted, and there was pure truth in her words. She did want to be done. She didn't want this revenge plot to be her whole identity.
And that was a good thing.
That was something that said she was looking forward to other parts of her life.
Dare I think it?
A future with me.
"That's a good place to be, I think. Ya got a lot of life left to live. Ya shouldn't be spendin' it in yer past."
She nodded at that, looking off at the wall, taking a deep breath.
"I didn't get any food," she said, sounding grumbly.
"Well, can't have ya researchin' on an empty stomach, can we?" I asked, moving to stand.
"What are ya in the mood for?"
"Just not sushi," she demanded, curling her lip at the very idea.
"Got it," I agreed. "I'll be right back."
"Sounds good."
I should have heard the guardedness in her tone.
I should have known it would only be there for one reason.
Because she was trying to get rid of me.
Because she was planning on ditching me.
Because she had every intention of doing this by herself.
She'd probably left just moments after I took off on foot to get her something to eat.
I came back with two brown bags full of greasy food - her favorite - to an empty hotel room.
Her car was gone.
Her phone on the nightstand.
There was no way to get in touch with her.
Fuck.
I dropped the food on the nightstand, grabbing my keys, and heading back out on foot.
She wasn't the only one who could do research the good old-fashioned way.
And me, I was likely even more practiced at the art, having needed to track down more people than I could count in my life.
It was twenty minutes before I found out the three biggest gangs in the area. And there was only one that a man with clear Hispanic heritage would be welcome in, let alone allowed to gain some rank.
After that, it was just about getting on the right turf, watching people.
It was slowly getting dark.
The only people who would be hanging out on stoops would be gang members.
I watched until I saw a deal going down before approaching, pulling a gun out of my lower back where I kept it stashed when I wasn't just hanging out at home, and pressed it into his liver, "I have one question, and ya can live," I told him, watching the way his eyes darted around, looking for a fellow gang member to save him.
"The fuck you want to ask, asshole?"
"Where can I find Monty?"
To that, his lips curled up, a wicked, but amused smile. "You don't want to find Monty, man."
That was a warning if I had ever heard one.
"Say I do."
"Then I say you are trying to get yourself killed."
"Then I wouldn't be yer problem, would I?" I asked, cocking the gun, watching as the fear broke through the tough-guy persona he was trying to give off.
Ten minutes later, he was out cold and bound, giving me the time I needed to be able to get to Monty and Lou, and hopefully get everything handled, and back on the road before t
he little shite could tell the rest of his gang about what was going down.
Monty lived in a slightly nicer area of town than the rest of the gang, likely because the men at the top always made bank for a lot less work.
And like some breadcrumb to a parent looking for their children lost in the woods, I found Lou's Mustang parked in the lot out back.
Twenty floors.
Dozens of apartments.
And not a whole hell of a lot of time to figure out where they were.
I moved inside, finding nothing on the mailboxes that might give me insight.
It was pure luck that I came across an older woman walking out of her apartment in a huff. "Fucking gangbangers," she grumbled under her breath. "Can't hear myself think."
I glanced at the apartment she walked out of, figuring the noise must have been coming from directly above to send her out of her home.
I ran to the stairs, flying up so fast that I barely even remembered doing it at all, slamming the bar on the door to move down into the next hallway.
I heard it as soon as I was halfway down.
Slamming.
Cursing.
Hisses of pain.
The crunch that could only be fists hitting flesh.
My stomach clenched at the idea of that flesh being hers.
It didn't seem to matter that I knew she could take care of herself, that she had likely been in more than a few fights in her life, that she was strong and smart and trained.
But that was before.
Before I knew her.
Before I learned to care for her.
Before she became mine, whether she bristled at that idea or not.
There was a slam - body hitting a wall.
Stomach twisting at the idea that someone dared put their hands on what was mine made anger like battery acid burn through my veins.
And let's not forget the fact that those hands were warped, twisted, willing to touch his sisters the way no man should ever be able to think of without feeling sick.
Saying fuck it to the idea of letting Lou fight her own battles, not knowing if Monty was alone in there, if she was outnumbered, if she even had a shot at handling herself, I threw open the door, taking in the room in seconds.
The living room melted into the kitchen. The walls were a deep gray - too dark for a small space, the furniture all black, masculine, flat.
A glass was shattered against the wall, liquid splattering, glass shards littering the floor, just waiting for bare feet to slice into. The bottle that had filled it was spillin' its contents onto the linoleum of the kitchen floor from where it was tipped over the edge of the counter.
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