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The room itself was sparsely furnished, yet each object held potential. The wooden chair, now toppled over from her earlier struggle, lay within reach. Its broken leg, jagged and splintered, glinted ominously. It was far from the knife she hoped for, but it was a tool nonetheless—a means to an end.
Break free.
Crouching low, she maneuvered her bound hands to grasp the fractured piece of wood. It was rough against her palms, a distant cousin to the silk ropes Lucky expertly wielded in their dance of dominance and surrender. Here, there was no safe word, no aftercare—only the raw insistence of survival.
With the weaponized shard of chair secured between her wrists, Trinity eyed the bars of the window. They stood in her way, a physical manifestation of the barriers she'd shattered time and time again. Cheating ex-husband. Single mother. Penniless. Uneducated. She’d had to start from scratch when her ex betrayed her, with no money, no education, and no employment history. Now she held an MBA and owned her own business.
They didn't know who they were dealing with.
“Ready or not,” she breathed, steeling herself for the onslaught, “here I come.”
And with that, Trinity prepared to unleash the full force of her being against the cold metal that dared to keep her from the life and love she fiercely claimed as her own.
CHAPTER 14
LUCKY
They moved outside, the night air charged with tension and the impending storm of retribution. One by one, they mounted their bikes, machines of steel and chrome that rumbled to life beneath them. Each engine's roar was a promise of the fury to come.
“Listen up!” Lucky shouted above the din, his presence commanding silence as he stood before his brothers. He unrolled a map across the hood of a nearby bike, his fingers tracing the outline of enemy territory. “Here’s the snake pit. Two entrances—front and back, both guarded. Windows are barred; don't expect easy access.”
Desperation mixed with the anger coursed through his veins. They’d arrived at the old warehouse within minutes of Trinity being taken to find the entire place had been cleaned out. They’d either discovered the surveillance or worse, there was another traitor in their ranks.
The last hours had been spent tracking down their new location. They’d called in every favor they could think of. Tapping into the traffic cameras, they’d finally found a location. An old strip mall that had long gone out of business.
His finger paused at several points along the perimeter. “Security cams here, here, and here. Savage, I want those blind before we even set foot on their turf.”
“Rooftop sentries likely,” Predator chimed in, leaning forward, eyes scanning the layout with tactical precision. He wasn’t an officer, but he was a valued member of the club. With several of his officers down with a stomach issue, Lucky had to call in reinforcements. Valhalla had shown up in spades. Phantom, Tank, Razor, Luke, and Zach, all ready to do his bidding.
“Tank, Arrow, you'll create a diversion at the front when we hit the back. We get one shot at this.” Lucky's words were punctuated by the sharp gaze he swept over them. "No mistakes.”
“Stealth until we have her,” he continued, his tone dropping to a growl. “Then all hell breaks loose. They took something precious from me.” His hand clenched into a fist, the leather of his gloves groaning with the strain. “And we take it back with interest.”
The men nodded, their expressions hardening into masks of resolve. There was no room for doubt or fear.
“We strike hard, fast, and without mercy.” Savage’s eyes blazed with intensity. Their response was a collective murmur of agreement, a unified front ready to descend upon their foes.
With a final nod, Lucky stepped away from the map. His every move was saturated with the raw energy of pent-up vengeance and fierce protection.
“We’ll bring her home,” Arrow said from beside him.
“We better. I don’t know what I would do without her,” Lucky answered, honestly, mounting his Harley.
The Watchmen were cloaked in an aura of silent fury as they cruised down deserted back roads. Lucky led the formation. HisHarley was a thunderous beast cutting through the darkness, its headlight piercing the thick fog in front of them.
As they neared The Snake Pit, Lucky raised his fist, signaling a halt. The bikes' growls died down to menacing purrs as the men parked in a secluded area hidden by the embrace of overhanging trees. Without a word, they dismounted, their movements synchronized and fluid, a dance they had mastered over countless nights like this one… in the deserts of Iraq and Syria, in the mountains of Afghanistan—on land and in sea. They were special forces operators. They knew what they were doing. Their skills were refined in combat.
Lucky's boots crunched softly on the gravel, his senses on high alert. Every rustle of leaves, every whisper of wind was a conversation he understood, a language of danger he was fluent in. He scanned the tree line, his eyes sharp as daggers beneath the silver strands that fell across his forehead.
“Move out,” he whispered, his voice barely audible, yet carrying the weight of authority that demanded obedience. The Watchmen fell into step behind him, shadows among shadows, invisible yet omnipresent. They were specters of vengeance, each step a promise of retribution for the affront to their own.
With Trinity's safety fueling their resolve, they moved with a predator's grace, a stealth only matched by the most cunning of beasts. Lucky's hand hovered near the weapon at his hip. The cool metal was a reminder of the power he wielded.
His heart beat a steady rhythm while his mind played over every detail of the plan, every contingency accounted for. This operation was not just about rescue; it was about restoring balance, about honor and justice.
He paused, holding up a closed fist, and his brothers froze in place. Lucky tilted his head, listening, feeling the very earth communicate beneath his feet. Seconds ticked by, until he wascertain they were clear. Then, with a swift motion, he beckoned them forward, a silent command that was swiftly obeyed.
They advanced, cloaked by the blackness of night's embrace. The shadows clung to them like a second skin as they reached the perimeter of The Snake Pit. The stench of oil and treachery tainted the night air. Lucky's gaze narrowed on the guards loitering at the entrance, their laughter a discordant note in the quiet that preceded the storm.
