Page 55 of Marked By Ink

“Remember what we talked about,” Kenny says a moment later.

I sigh darkly. “I know.”

Deacon Jones is a wanted man, despite what aliases he uses. If we take him alive, we can deliver him to the police, and for his combined and twisted crimes, he’ll spend the rest of his life in a cage.

“Are you going to be able to let him live?” Kenny asks. “I’d understand if you’re tempted to go down the other path. But let me know now.”

I grit my teeth, sitting up.

“I’ve never enjoyed killing. I did it when we were in the service because I had to, and we were keeping our brothers safe. Here, with Mr. Red, I did it for Yasmin and Felicia. But I won’t murder a man in cold blood. Even if the monster deserves it.”

Kenny nods grimly. “Then let’s get to work.”

* * *

My heart is thumping at the base of my throat as Kenny, an ex-SEAL called Markus, and I approach the rear of the bar. There are three men out front, ready to toss in their flashbang grenades when Kenny gives the signal.

My hand is tight on my rifle, my head a little hazy, not as clear as it usually is before a job. The ideal situation is to be almost mindless, to become nothing but a body executing the plan…and then to allow my mind to return when it’s time to make important decisions.

But as we get closer, all I can think about is Freya, the look of gorgeous concentration on her face when she was applying my tattoo.

I try to imagine how she would’ve reacted if I’d told her right then how I felt.

After a moment, I force the thoughts away or at least do my best to make them disappear. The best I can do is push them to the corner of my mind, not letting myself dwell on them.

The fact this mantried to make me kill my girlfriend.

And the fact that I let fear for Yasmin and Felicia turn me into his assassin.

I hate all of it and wish I could take it back, despite what Kenny said about not being able to find him until recently.

But at the same time, I know the truth. I never would’ve met my woman if not for Mr. Red.

What a twisted world it is sometimes.

Kenny looks at me, his eyes the only part of his face visible behind the mask. He makes a hand signal, asking Markus and me if we’re ready.

When we both nod, he presses the button on the walkie, saying nothing.

Thetskit makes is the only signal the men out front need.

A few moments pass, and then several flash bang grenades go off. Enough to ensure everybody inside this criminal bar is disoriented but not severely injured…after all, there may be innocent men in here, or women, maybe even children.

I wouldn’t put anything past this psycho.

Thankfully, when we rush into the room, I’m able to switch my emotions off. My training overrides everything else, and I hone down to the moment, clearing the rooms adjacent to the hallway before moving to the main bar.

The other three men are already securing people, zip-tying their wrists.

“Where is he?” I ask the closest. The man shakes his head.

I turn to the thug Kenny’s man is zip-tying, grabbing him by the front of his shirt and dragging him to his feet. The stink of booze and something else, a harsh chemical smell, washes over me.

“You smell that shit?” I ask Kenny at my side.

He nods. “Somebody’s cooking meth.”

The thug’s eyes widen, and I give him a one-handed shake, his feet barely brushing the floor.

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