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“They were starving,” Ex whispered.
Rage simmered below my skin and I felt the Reaper
of every single man in the room rise to the surface once more. Snarls, curses, and growls of revenge filled the room.
We would end the cowards who dared to harm these young girls.
“Solonik and Voltoy,” I spit out, clenching my jaw. “This isn’t over, my brothers. The Black Market Railroad is still trafficking girls through Nevada. Venom said Sergei Resnikov wanted revenge for his Russian brothers.”
“We ain’t standing for it,” Rael added. “No fuckin’ way.”
After all that had happened with Nylah’s sister Naomi, I wasn’t surprised to hear him say it.
I was so overcome by rage it took a minute to gather my thoughts and process what this threat meant. Our club was about to venture down the same dark road of human trafficking, vengeance, and gruesome torment we just finished with Voltoy and Solonik.
And now they knew about Trish.
Fuck!
“No one says a fuckin’ word about this,” I ordered. “Not a damn word about what we found today. Trish doesn’t need to know every detail. I’ll be the one who tells her and only how much I need to say.”
My angel wasn’t going to take this well.
“You got it, pres.” Wraith’s voice was low, but I felt the emotion churning within his tall frame. His aura flickered and the onyx shimmer of the Reaper was close to breaking free.
None of us expected to find this kind of unforgivable and heinous crime.
We’d witnessed a lot of fucked up shit before, but this was one of the worst we ever stumbled upon. Bruises marred the thighs and arms of the girls in addition to all the cuts and nail marks. They’d been violated numerous times. I didn’t have to do a close inspection to know this. Someone else in that Black Market Railroad was on my shit list now.
I would find him and end that motherfucker Resnikov.
The deaths of Alexi Voltoy and Vladimir Solonik didn’t change a damn thing.
Young women were still be trafficked and harmed in the state of Nevada.
This was my fuckin’ state. My hometown. These assholes had no idea the war that had started between us, but they would soon.
Blood would be spilled. Souls reaped. And the guilty? They were going to learn a whole new meaning for the torture.
***
Back at the Crossroads, I banged down the gavel and sank into my chair at the head of the table. “What’s the word here, my brothers? What’s our next plan?”
“This all started with Rancid,” Ex spat. “Fuckin’ traitor.”
“And he’s dead,” Mammoth argued, taking his place next to my side. “Trish is sleeping, pres. Left two prospects outside the door.”
“Good.”
“Rancid trafficked bayou girls from NOLA into Alaska through Seattle, but there’s other states involved too. Rancid had girls taken from Vegas and then channeled through Carson City into Northern Cali on their way up to Anchorage. Been a shit show all over.”
Hannibal was right.
We didn’t know Rancid was involved with the Black Market Railroad in the beginning. We had no idea that Vladimir Solonik had used Rancid like a puppet for his own agenda, or that Rancid fed so much information on the club that Solonik knew many of the chapters and their day-to-day operations.
We were dealing with a cunning adversary.
Rancid was nothing more than a pawn but the Russians weren’t stupid.
