“What exactly is it you’re asking?” Rage pours more liquor into the glasses and knocks back his fill.
“If we’ll catch any blowback from the Bastards if we make a move on Ronaldo.” Leo taps his finger against the glass, looking around the club his attention snagging on a group of brothers playing pool pretending not to be watching our interaction.
“Ronaldo doesn’t need us to back him up. He’s Arlo Aire’s cousin. No one’s stupid enough to make a move against him.”
“I just want my woman back.”
“How do you know she’s not there by choice?” Jameson asks. His size dwarfs the table and could put anyone on edge.
“She’s not a whore. Dancing is all she was willing to do.”
“We don’t plan on making a scene or an enemy. I’m going to go in and get her out. No harm, no foul. Then she and my brother will disappear until they forget about her.”
“You’re going in on your own?” Jameson’s eyes travel over my form, his lips pulling down in a frown. What he doesn’t know? Alone is how I prefer to work. Quiet, officiant, and deadly—if need be. It’s only when shit turns bad that the chaos comes into play.
“Unless you’re willing to spare a couple brothers to help?” Leo shrugs his shoulders, letting out a harsh laugh, his nerves rattling his vocal cords. My brother isn't like me. Our old man beat him constantly growing up, and he witnessed so much horrendous shit happen to our mom, it shaped him into this wary, on edge, frightened human being.
“You know we can’t be involved in any of this. This conversation never even happened,” Rage informs him.
“We do a lot of business with the Aires. Ronaldo is off limits,” Animal adds.
“What conversation?” I stand and pocket my lighter.
“This is a suicide mission.” Animal tells me, his jaw ticking. He doesn't think I should do this for my brother. But what kind of man would I be to leave a woman in a place like that knowing she doesn't want to be there?
“It was good seeing you,” I turn to leave, pausing for just a moment to look at Lily one more time.
CHAPTERFOUR
Lily
I pull open the large wooden door and step inside the church, my stomach twisting. Fists squeeze my internal organs until the air in my lungs seizes. My legs shake with the effort to keep me upright. I've been here so many times, always staring at the building from my car, trying to build up the courage to walk inside. Today, I found it.
My gun is loaded and tucked into the back of my jeans. The blade I keep strapped to my ankle is sharp and ready to bleed this place of evil.
Decorative windows and tall ceilings offer a peaceful illusion. A giant cross hangs behind a podium at the back of the room, dominating the space. A mix of musty furniture and candle wax surrounds me. The rows of wooden bench seats are faded from all the god-fearing asses planted in them every week, praying with a man whose soul is darker than the bowels of hell.
My feet carry me down the center aisle toward an open casket surrounded by flowers. My heart pounds against my ribcage, in sync with the throbbing of the stitches in my ass cheek. As I get closer, I see a body inside. A young woman. Hollowed cheeks painted in the mortician's makeup, the rouge overly red for such a young girl.
What happened to you?
Her black dress stands stark against the white satin lining. Her arms are folded to rest on her stomach, almost in prayer.
"Are you a relative? The service doesn't start for another hour."
His voice crashes into me like a sledgehammer, bashing down the walls I'd built up. Sirens blast through my brain. Everything I’ve fought to overcome tumbles to ash.
“Get on the bed, Lily.”
Why did I think I could do this?
Shoving my trembling hands into the pockets of my jacket, I shake my head. My hair bounces around my face, hiding me from view.
"How did you know her?" He steps closer, and acid burns in my stomach. His darkness creeps over me, draping me in dirt until it fills every pore, invading every hole, turning my bones to cement. I can't move. I'm back in that room, cowering beneath his torment.
“Get on the bed, Lily.”
No!