Page 79 of Player

We landed right outside Bridgeport, Maine, two and a half hours later to freezing cold temperatures and fucking snow. Like a shit ton of fucking snow.

“Son-of-a-bitch,” Massacre growled, hugging his cut closer to him. “I sure as shit don’t miss this crap.”

Seeing a waiting SUV, we all headed for it, only to find Gator behind the wheel and Chisel and Ink in the far back seats. “Hurry up and get in. It’s fucking colder than a witch's titty in a brass bra out there,” Gator said, turning up the heater.

All of us piled in, and though the SUV was roomy, I still had to put Catarina in my lap for everyone to fit.

“How the fuck did you guys get here so fast?” Shadow asked when Ink grinned, “I have my ways, brother.”

“So, what’s the plan?” Chisel said, his voice still raw and gravelly thanks to Snake slitting his throat when Remi was hiding at a safe house before Hellhound took her and gave her to a man named Darrin Reynolds. The very man who tortured and raped her repeatedly. If it wasn’t for Healer’s quick thinking, we would have lost Chisel that day. Healer said he would never have the voice he once had, but he could talk.

“Just take us to their house. I’ll think of something on the way,” I muttered as Gator just gaped.

Massacre chuckled, slapping my shoulder. “What my idiot brother means is that we have a plan and will fill you in along the way.”

Shaking his head, Gator turned and put the vehicle in drive.

Catarina turned to look at both of us, whispering, “What’s the plan?”

“What it always is. Anyone not in a Golden Skull cut are dead men walking,” my brother grinned wickedly, and for the first time in our lives, I agreed with him.

Kill them all.

We had been staking out the large property for close to an hour when Ink cursed, “Fuck man. This is bullshit. I say we take care of the rent-a-cops, go inside, get warm and just wait for them to arrive. I don’t think my balls will ever descend again.”

“Didn’t know they already had,” Shadow chuckled as Ink flipped him the one-finger bird.

“We can’t do anything until the sun sets. We will be seen if we go in now,” Gator stated, looking at the sprawling property.

“Seen by who? The fucking seagulls!” Massacre growled. “Nobody is fucking here!”

“Everyone needs to calm down and take a deep breath,” Axel muttered, putting his two cents in.

“Shut up, Axel!” Everyone said even Salvatore, who was shaking his head. “Why did we bring him anyway? If he gets one scratch on him, Marko is going to kick my ass.”

“I’d pay money to see that,” Massacre laughed.

I loved my brothers and cousins. I really did, but they were not taking this shit seriously. I hated waiting as much as they did, but until the Hughes showed up, we had to wait.

Yes, it was cold outside, and yes, it was still lightly snowing, but I wasn’t willing to risk prison if they weren’t even going to arrive. Which was something we were only guessing. We knew thanks to Antonio that they were no longer in D.C., so the only logical place for them to go was here. Yet they weren’t here.

They should have arrived by now.

Looking around the place, I noticed that the place seemed utterly vacant except for the few armed guards patrolling the area. There were no cars, no security. The grounds were not manicured, and the mailbox was overflowing. All the lights were out in the house except for the front porch. Yet, as I scanned the house, I watched as one of the downstairs curtains moved.

How was that possible.

It wasn’t.

There had to be someone on the inside.

“Mass,” I whispered lowly getting his attention. “Bottom floor, third window from the left. Watch.”

I waited, holding my breath for the curtain to move again, and after a few minutes nothing, until we all saw a small handprint appear then only to disappear a few seconds later.

“Mother fucker,” Massacre growled. “They are already in there.”

Moving closer to the house, I didn’t wait for my brothers or cousins to follow. There were only nine of us, and though I wished the rest of my brothers were here with me, I couldn’t wait any longer.


Tags: Rebecca Joyce Dark