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Zach and Rocket exchanged a look while she seethed in her seat. Really, she didn’t need their permission for any of this, but the boys club she’d fallen in with had her outnumbered, so she was at their mercy.
“All right.” Zach ran a hand over his face. He turned in his seat and speared her with a look she hadn’t seen from him. This was enforcer Zach, all serious business and don’t-fuck-with-me attitude. Izzy squirmed in her seat. “You”—he pointed to her—“are not on point here. You’re here for the girls. To keep them calm, to help get them out, and to prevent freak-outs. You hear me? No GI Jane shit.”
Izzy frowned and opened her mouth, but Zach held up a hand. “Not because you can’t hack it, but because that man”—he jerked his thumb over his shoulder—“will lose his shit if something happens to you. If you can’t agree, I’ll tie your ass to the steering wheel. Yes?”
Izzy swallowed all the retorts bubbling up in her mouth and nodded. She stared out the windshield at the back of Jig seated in her car. Maybe she’d been too hard on him. Since he’d lost his wife in the most horrifying of ways, the man was bound to be a little overprotective as a result. And he’d probably spoken without thinking, pushed to his limit by her.
Not that it mattered because this had been an eye-opening afternoon. A reminder she couldn’t put herself in a position to be disappointed and abandoned once again. It was time to end things with Jig.
The rain had slowed to a thick mist, and within minutes a large panel van pulled up behind Zach’s car. Rocket, Zach, and Jig left the vehicles and met LJ at the van. Izzy followed, careful to avoid Jig’s gaze. Weapons were distributed, plans were made, then Zach and LJ spent a few minutes hiding the vehicles down the road.
They jogged back just as the rain picked up again. Soaked to the bone, Izzy shivered and caught Jig’s gaze. His eyes were cold, shuttered, and flat. Much as they’d been the first few times she’d met him.
“Okay,” Zach said. “Us four”—he indicted himself, Rocket, Jig, and LJ—“are going to do reconnaissance. We’ll take out who we can and text when it’s safe for you to enter, Iz. You’re on lookout. Anyone comes down this road, we need a text ASAP. Your kid said there were four guys here, plus him makes five. No idea on the number of girls. Everyone good?”
They all nodded. Izzy risked another glance at Jig then immediately wished she hadn’t. He wouldn’t even look at her. It hurt like hell in her stomach, her head, her heart, but she had to shove it aside because it was nothing compared to how the girls in that barn would be hurting.
“All right,” Rocket said, “it’s go time.”
Then all four men disappeared into the woods, weaving toward the barn while Izzy settled herself against the van.
To wait.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
ROCKET AND MAVERICK had access to all sorts of spy-level gadgets, but seeing as how they hadn’t anticipated a takedown today, they didn’t have comms or any other high-tech equipment. Just four cellphones, three handguns, five rifles, some C-4 Jig would never ask Rocket about, and four men committed to ruining the fuck out of Lefty’s trafficking business.
As they crept their way through the woods toward the barn, Jig’s anxious fury only grew. The past and present were mixing in his head, causing a host of fucked-up feelings he couldn’t handle. These weren’t the men who hurt his family, but they were attached to the gang that injured Izzy. And they destroyed the lives of an unknown number of innocent girls. Jig was so hungry to take these fuckers out, he was practically salivating at the thought of making them bleed.
When the barn was easily visible through the foliage, Jig anchored his back against a large oak tree. His brothers were spread out and hidden in much the same way. Both being prior military, this scene was Zach and Rocket’s comfort zone. Jig could hold his own, but both of those men were skilled at leading and planning operations. He kept his eyes trained on Zach and waited for instructions.
Wouldn’t be long. A few minutes at most. Anticipation flowed through him. If only Lefty were there as well, so they could end his sorry-assed life, but part of him loved the fact that Lefty would be forced to watch his empire crash and burn. To know the Handlers had fulfilled their promise to tear his house apart brick by brick.
Then, when he was at his lowest, they’d kill the motherfucker.
Zach pointed to the barn and held up five fingers. Five men outside. Then he held up one finger and dropped his hand about hip level. One little one. Probably the errand boy who’d come to Izzy’s shop. They’d gotten damn lucky, following the kid when he was bringing food to the guards. Most likely, all four of them had abandoned their posts in favor of eating, and the Handlers could catch them off their game.
