Page 78 of Carver’s Crusade

Perfect.

Two targets separated with two of our women acting as bait. We have two chances to expose these bastards.

“You got eyes inside?” Dante asks.

“Prospects are recording,” Byte answers. “I’m monitoring both locations.”

I roll my shoulders, trying to loosen the tension wound tight through my muscles. My patience is running thin. Every second Tony Martin remains inside that house pisses me off more.

When the front door to the house opens again, we all go still. Tony steps out alone.

“There he is,” I mutter. “He’s leaving. Should we follow?”

Tony moves quickly down the driveway to his yellow Mustang. He climbs inside and starts the engine.

Dante’s voice immediately cuts through the comms. “Carver, Shield—you’re up. See where he goes. Take him down if he grabs a woman.”

I shove away from my bike and pull my helmet on fast. The engine beneath me roars to life.

Beside me, Shield swings onto his bike and does the same.

By the time Tony’s car turns onto the main road, we pull out and follow. We stay far back enough to keep from spooking him, but we won’t lose him.

Streetlights streak across the pavement as we weave through late-night traffic. The steady vibration of my bike usually calms me. But not tonight. This feels wrong. We aren’t heading downtown. We’re heading toward a residential area. These streets are older, with modest homes and cracked sidewalks. I narrow my eyes as I realize where we are.

“Shield,” I growl into the mic. “I think I know where he’s going.”

“Where?”

I stare at the Mustang ahead of us as Tony slows near the curb.

“This is Nancy Filby’s house.”

Silence slams across the comms.

Then Dante’s deadly calm voice cuts through.

“You sure?”

“Positive.”

When Tony pulls into the driveway, I glance down the street, and my heart stops when I recognize the car parked there: Raven’s.

Every ounce of blood in my body turns to fire.

“Fuck,” Shield snaps.

I barely hear him.

My vision tunnels on Raven’s car sitting there beneath the streetlight.

Why is she here?

Fear and fury collide inside me so hard it makes my hands shake around the handlebars.

“Carver,” Dante barks sharply through the comms. “Do not rush in blind.”

Too late.