“I don’t feel right leaving you here,” Voodoo said to Venom with Jasmine still cradled in his arms. She appeared to be passed out. I imagined the events she’d endured had taken their toll.
Chains stood behind him, appearing barely restrained. My suspicions resurfaced, and I turned to him with a glare. “Unfortunately, this isn’t the time or the place. But we’re going to talk,” I spat harshly.
He clenched his jaw and didn’t say a word as he silently stared me down.
We’d loaded Jasmine, Trace, and Lynda in our SUV when a large SWAT-type black van pulled up next to us, followed closely by another. My hand hovered over my weapon, but I knew immediately who it was.
The door opened, and a striking Hispanic woman got out, along with three men dressed all in black. The next van had two more.
“Bearheart,” she said, and I cursed to myself. I’d hoped to be out of there before she showed up.
“Santiago,” I replied, with my brothers waiting expectantly behind me. Her eyes raked over me, and she wet her bottom lip.
“Venom inside?” she asked, her voice slightly husky as she lifted her chin.
I nodded once, and she returned it. After a brief hesitation, she and her men went inside. Each of them carried a bag with them. Voodoo followed them in, and Chains climbed in the SUV Jasmine and my son were waiting in. Glancing over my shoulder, I told my waiting brothers, “We’re not leaving without the rest.”
They all agreed, and I was thankful, because no way was I leaving without them. Besides safety in numbers, I wasn’t leaving my president behind. Thankfully, it didn’t take long for Santiago’s team to usher the women out, each of them wrapped in a blanket. They loaded them up in the vans and waited. One guy looked pissed as he shot us a glare and waited impatiently for Santiago to come out. After a few minutes, Santiago and Venom exited the dilapidated house and approached us.
“You owe me,” she said to Venom. Raptor snorted as he raked a hand through his hair.
“The way I see it, we’re even,” Venom said. She cast another glance my way before straightening and narrowing her eyes at Venom.
“Hmm. We’ll see. And as far as they know,” she jerked her head back toward the van of women, “you were all part of an undercover SWAT team that rescued them. You cleaning this mess up?”
We all knew she was referring to the house and the dead bodies. We also knew that it wasn’t really a question. They couldn’t take credit for the dead bodies because the ballistics wouldn’t match up.
“Always,” Venom replied. We stood there as she appeared to want to say more and I prayed she just left. Finally, she cast one last glance in my direction, then loaded up, and they backed out. The entire time, she stared at me.
“I can’t believe you fucked a cop,” Voodoo muttered over my shoulder. My shoulders sagged, and I looked skyward for patience.
“Fuck you. She wasn’t a cop back then.”
He gave a huffed laugh as he shook his head.
Venom looked at Phoenix as we headed to our vehicles. “Torch it.”
Phoenix nodded, walked inside, and a burst of flames blew out the boarded-up windows as he came strolling back out.
The blaze could be seen for miles as we drove away.
As I held my son against my chest, I pulled out my phone to call Korrie. At first she sounded groggy. “Hello?”
“I’ve got him, baby. I’ve got our son,” I said, then dropped a kiss to his dark hair.
“FallenAngel”—Poison
“My baby,” I murmured for the millionth time since Angel had walked through the door carrying our son. He swatted me away when I tried to kiss his forehead again.
“Mom. You gotta quit smothering a man. You can go to bed. Dad’s waiting for you.” I pulled back in shock, staring at the little human I called my son.
“What did you just say?” I asked him, sure that I’d heard him incorrectly. The boy had been abducted and held hostage with his aunt and babysitter. Angel believed he didn’t see much of what happened because he’d been out cold after healing Lynda’s knee, but still. He’d beenabducted.
The word alone sent another wave of nausea through me at how helpless I’d been. The inability to protect her child is a mother’s worst fear, and it had come to fruition for me.
“I told you to go to bed. I’m tired, and a man needs his sleep.” His baleful dark eyes stared up at me from his pillow. I’d been snuggled up next to him, holding him since Angel had finished helping him bathe the dirt and grime off after they got back. He’d still been groggy and out of it, so Angel hadn’t trusted the little boy alone in the shower—much to Trace’s consternation.
“A man, huh?” I asked with a disbelieving raised brow.