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I clenched my jaw, my hand tightening around the phone. “Name the location, and I’ll come unarmed and alone. Just let her go.”
“No. I think we’ll play a while. Has my brother arrived yet? I’m dying to see him. Of course, you’re my favorite, Gate. We spent countless days together. I have to say, I like her. She’s a real trooper.”
“What do you want?” I ground out.
He laughed and it sounded wet, as if he had too much saliva in his mouth. “Why, all of you, of course. To make you suffer and—”
My heart stopped at the sound in the distance. What the fuck?
The phone clicked and went dead.
I was already moving toward the door. “Horses. I heard a fuckin’ horse whinny.”
My hands curled and uncurled as Macayla’s screams replayed in my head.
Jaeg jumped to his feet. “The fight ring beneath the stables.”
Saint was already on his cell, calling Callum as we ran out.
Vic
Callum crouched beside the body lying in a pool of blood on the cobblestone floor of the stable. His throat was slit, and the blood had already congealed and was like gelatin.
“He’s been dead a good eight hours, maybe longer,” I said, peering at the sixty-something-year-old man. “No signs of a scuffle. Who is he?”
“Carlos,” Callum said, staring down at the body. He straightened with his jaw clenched. “He’s been looking after the horses since we were kids.” He straightened, eyes lingering on the body. “Carlos was family.”
Family in Callum’s world was much different than in most. Family wasn’t just blood, but included the men who worked for the James’. Loyalty was paramount. You break that trust, betray them, don’t expect to survive very long.
“He likely killed him before he even took her,” Jaeg said. “The sicko planned ahead.” He glanced at Callum. “Sorry, man. But you should’ve ended him.”
“I’ve been looking for him for ten years,” Callum said.
Ethan slammed his fist into the stall door. “He’s a lunatic.”
“Look at this,” Saint said, crouched down beside an open stall door. He swiped aside the fresh shavings and gestured to three wires running along the ground. “He’s rigged the place to blow.”
It felt like black, ice-cold sludge was moving through my veins. Macayla was under the stables. She wouldn’t stand a chance if it collapsed.
I looked at each of them. “He doesn’t escape alive.” My gaze landed on Callum, and he gave a curt nod.
“You think he’s down there?” Jaeg asked.
Callum shifted his weight, his jaw tight. “He’ll be there. He likes fire and to watch people suffer. What he didn’t count on was us so quickly finding out where he is holding her.”
My blood ran cold. I knew Aiden’s love of fire and suffering. We’d seen it as kids, but I’d tried to block it out.
I had to keep my shit together and not run straight into Aiden’s trap. And he had a trap. Aiden may be psychotic, but he was patient and calm. Fuck, he could’ve been planning this for years. Watching. Waiting.
There were only three ways in and out of the underground fight ring. One tunnel ran from the main house. One from the stables. And another to the far side of the property where it came out in the woods. The tunnel system had been built in case the place was ever raided.
Aiden knew about them all.
“You know the plan,” I said. A plan they’d fought against.
Saint shook his head. “Gate, I don’t like it. Too many variables. He might not even be down there.”
He was right. There were too many variables, too many question marks, ellipsis, and whatever fuckin’ else. But time was a factor. And if we all went down there, I guaranteed Macayla and the rest of us were dead. If I went alone, there was a chance I could exchange myself for Macayla. And then we’d do it Saint’s way.
