"West needs to come," Huck demanded, body going tight, preparing for this showdown that had been a long time coming.
The Ukrainians had gone underground when they'd seen The Henchmen roll into town, likely realizing just how good and fucked they truly were.
And as the guys picked off the rest of the street gangs still holding onto hope of taking over the gun trade and the remaining Russian, they likely got more and more worried about us finding them.
It was Chris who had eventually tracked them down.
She'd been so pissed about not being able to find them that she'd flown in from Navesink Bank to hit the streets and sniff them out once and for all.
I would never cease to be impressed by that woman and her dogged determination to figure shit out. It was exhausting just to watch her.
She'd come bouncing into the clubhouse at five in the morning. None of us had even known she had snuck out. But she had, walking the streets in a risky ass area to track these bastards down.
Then we'd been given pictures she somehow managed to get printed so early in the morning, she gave us an address, and walked right back out, catching a plane back to Navesink Bank.
We'd watched for a couple days before we all strapped up, drove out, then parked and walked closer to the old tire repair place it seemed like they'd been calling home.
"Why does West need to come?" Reign asked, gaze shifting between Huck and me.
"Because these fuckers are why Gus has pins in her arm. And why she has nightmares about alligators death-rolling her."
"Alright, yeah, makes sense. Try not to get yourself killed," he added, giving me a chin jerk before the rest of us turned, and made our way toward the shop.
Each step had Remington's rage building, stripping away the layers of lightness he usually wore around, leaving only a man set on retribution.
For his cat's tail, mostly.
But for Auggie too.
I was sure Auggie was on all our minds as we snuck around the building, getting into position.
That half a day when she'd been missing had been the most agonizing in all our lives. Living with that uncertainty. About what could be happening to her. All the awful things she might be enduring.
It didn't matter that she'd been alright.
That was only because she'd managed to get away.
Who the hell knew what they might have been capable of had she not been able to?
They weren't going to suffer for what they'd done so much as what they may have done had they been given the chance.
Every muscle in my body tightened, my jaw aching from the grind of my teeth.
Much like Remy, rage was not something unfamiliar to me. It stemmed from a long, brutal childhood with an abusive father who beat the ever loving shit out of me day in and day out. It came from being too small to defend myself. Or my mom. Or my sisters. It came from all that repressed anger that needed an outlet, making me volatile with classmates.
Even after we got away from him, even after he died, even after I got big enough that no one could make me feel small and helpless again, the anger had still been there, bubbling under the surface, seeking an outlet before it overtook me completely.
Which was where enforcing came in.
It let me bleed out all that shit.
And get paid.
The ultimate win-win.
I'd felt a lot of it wash away as I got older, as I settled in with the guys and girls in Navesink Bank.
But there was still enough of it there to conjure up when needed.
Like as Che broke the window.
As McCoy tossed in the Flash-Bang that Reign wouldn't even tell us where he'd gotten it.
As we all charged inside.
There were five men inside.
The two who'd taken Auggie.
Plus three employees.
By the time we walked out ten minutes later, though, there was no one left standing, no threats to worry about.
I'd managed to get the guy with the mostly-healed hole in his face.
Remy'd taken out the other boss.
As for the other guys, who knew.
Bullets flew.
Shit got fuzzy fast.
Not that it mattered.
All that mattered was the guys who tried to hurt Auggie—and Ozzy Pawsbourne—were out of the picture.
The street gangs and dog fighters were licking their wounds.
Adrian had disappeared.
It was time for the chapter to officially open.
But all that, that was Huck's story.
As for me?
I went back to my woman.
And brought her home with me.Gus - 2 years"If one more person tells me I am glowing, I am going to carve this spork into a shiv, and stab them in the eye. I am fully capable of doing so," I declared, a little louder than was absolutely necessary.
"You sure are, pretty girl," West agreed, nodding.
"It's not a glow. It's sweat. Because I am fucking hot. Every moment of every day. Because my body has become a freaking oven. Baking your demon spawn. I mean that is the only explanation for why I am so goddamn hot," I grumbled, grabbing the empty paper plate from West, fanning myself with it.