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His head jerked up when he heard the truck racing up the gravel driveway. It skidded to a halt in typical Jax fashion, gravel, snow and dirt flying. Hawk knew he appeared ravaged, but he forced himself to his feet to met Jax as his friend bounded from the cab.
Jax tugged him into a quick, hard hug. “We’ll find her.”
Cannon joined them from where he’d been watching Hawk from the porch. He looked as bad as Hawk felt. Fuck. Hawk wanted to kick himself. He’d been so overwrought, he’d left his other lover alone in this grief and worry.
“I’m sorry,” Hawk muttered and tugged Cannon against him, hooking his arm behind Cannon’s neck. Cannon buried his face in Hawk’s shoulder, and inhaled a long shaky breath.
“I can’t believe this happened,” he whispered in a shaky voice. “After all this time…”
“We’ll get her back,” Hawk assured him. “I promise we’ll get her back. No matter what I have to do.”
Cannon nodded. “What we have to. Not just you.”
“Zoran, we’re all here,” Jax said beside them, holding his phone between them as a man with a faint Russian accent answered over the speaker.
“Thank you for helping us,” Hawk said.
“Nyet, it is I who should apologize. The troubles the Baranovs bring to my city have not been crushed, and now, their foulness has tainted your small town, as well. My brothers and my men stand at the ready to rescue your woman and put a final end to this scum.”
Wide-eyed, Hawk glance over at Jax, who merely shrugged. He seemed rather nonchalant for a small-town lawyer dealing with the head of one of Chicago’s mafia organizations. Despite his days in a gang, it didn’t settle well with Hawk, and Cannon looked green. But Jax? Jax seemed unfazed.
“So what’s the plan?” Jax asked.
“My soldier on the inside tells me she is being brought back to the city on the Baranov pakhan’s plane.”
Pakhan? Hawk mouthed.
“Their leader,” Jax supplied.
“Da. The so-called leader of that vermin. I have sent my own plane to get you. It will be at the Gillette airport by the time you arrive there. Jax, I will text you further directions. Safe travels, and I will meet you at the airstrip when you land here.”
The line disconnected, and Jax looked over at them. “Let’s go. I’ll text Briar and Ram when we’re taxiing for takeoff. That way they can’t kill me until I get back.”
Hawk grimaced. Shit. He didn’t want to drag his friend any farther into the middle of this. “Are you sure? You should just let us—”
Jax held up his hand, stopping him. “She might belong to you two, but she’s important to me, too. You’re my best friends, and she’s your woman. She’s my wife’s closest friend, too. We will all go to get her and bring her back. That’s what we do.”
Hawk nodded, slightly choked up about how willing his friend was to run into danger with them.
“Let’s do this,” Cannon gritted, grabbing Hawk’s hand and squeezing it in a bone-crushing grip. Hawk knew his man was digging deep for his tenuous calm. Anything even close to peace evaded Hawk. He wouldn’t be consoled until he and Cannon had Dev back in their arms.
“Yeah. Let’s do this,” he echoed. He nodded and headed for Jax’s truck with the other two men on his heels. They could call the sheriff on the way and let him know Dev was on her way to Chicago and they were following. The man wouldn’t be happy, but all that mattered to Hawk was getting to his woman as fast as possible.
Nineteen
Devon came awake, screaming, the sound raw from being pent up inside her when she’d been drugged by that syringe. She jolted upright in an unfamiliar chilly room. Naked.
“No… No,” she gasped, though her protest would do no good and she wasn’t completely surprised. Terrified? Yes. But surprised? No. This was what had been promised to her. More than once. She’d tried so hard to avoid it, yet here she was, plunged into her worst nightmare. All her running had been for nothing.
Assessing her situation, she scrambled backward on the bed, intending to huddle into the pillows and hid her nudity. She couldn’t. The fucking bastards had stripped her and chained her ankle to the footboard.
The bed had no pillows. No blanket.
She yanked at the sheet, but no matter how she pulled, it wouldn’t give. She had no way to cover herself with.
“Breathe, Devon. Breathe,” she muttered to herself.
Regardless, she wasn’t letting these assholes have her. They wouldn’t win, even if she died while trying to escape their clutches. She didn’t want to imagine the ways they might punish failure. All she knew was, if she didn’t escape, she might as well be dead.
