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Fuck.
“They called me from Mom’s phone.”
The emotion draining out of Rome’s expression had to mirror mine. He didn’t have to ask me who “they” were. They were behind the attacks. That meant they had Mom, or maybe they were fucking with me.
I really wanted them to be fucking with me, but until I got ahold of them…
“We’ll go with you,” Vaughn said before another cough wracked him. I cut a look back at him then Rome shook his head.
“I’ll stay with him,” Rome said. “Go.” Then he held up his phone. “Call backup. Don’t get dead.”
Yeah, our backup was a little thin at the moment. “You too…make sure a doctor looks at you too.”
My other half just flipped me off. I stayed in place until they were inside, then I floored it out of the parking lot. Security called when I was a block from the airport.
“They aren’t here, Mr. O’Connell,” Billings said, his tone professional if tense. “Alarm was disabled. No sign of force. Everything appears neat and orderly. There is a note on the fridge addressed to you.”
“Open it.”
“Stand by, sir.”
I tried not to twitch as I pulled over to the side of the road. Head on a swivel, I scanned everything around me. What the fuck time was it? It hadn’t even been eleven when we rolled out of the club, and now it was four—no, five in the morning. Fuck.
Updates had hit my phone from Rome. He just ticked off the words the nurses and doctors told them. They were okay. Smoke inhalation and needed oxygen. Bruises. Scrapes. And Vaughn had managed to crack a couple of ribs in there. Rome had some burns, though he didn’t seem to care about those.
I’d check them later.
Hellspawn—
“Mr. O’Connell,” Billings said. “I considered offering you the opportunity for reparations. However, after some thought, I decided against it. You and your friends took something of great value to me. With this in mind, you will all be repaid in kind. A loss for a loss.
“What you treasure, you will lose. What you value, you will see taken. Understand that this might be the first move, yet it is by no means the last. You made the mistake of stealing from me. There will be no mercy. No negotiation. No salvation. When I have destroyed you, I will take back my prize.”
Billings cleared his throat. “There is no signature. Only an address.”
“Give it to me.”
I recognized the street name immediately—the old house.
“Bag the letter for evidence. Sweep the house, full breakdown. Get another security team to the hospital to keep an eye on my brother. I want a third set of teams on all the stores.”
“Yes, sir. Should I send someone to this address?”
“I’ll take care of it myself.”
Whatever happened there was done. This wasn’t so much a warning shot as a swipe to score first blood. He—and I had money on Bradley Fucking Sharpe as the culprit—wanted us to feel this loss. To suffer.
The tires squealed as I jerked the car around to go the other way. Tires screeched as other cars hit their brakes to avoid colliding with me.
My phone began to buzz as orders went out. More messages were coming in. I kept my focus on the road. Rome was at the hospital with Vaughn. They had each other’s backs.
Jasper had Hellspawn and Freddie. Kellan, Milo, and Doc would back them. That knowledge helped me ice over the cracks as I risked more than a few reckless driving tickets to get to the old house.
The driveway was a blur as I raced down it. I must have hit the gate access, but I drove right up to the circle in front of the house and pulled out the gun before heading inside.
Acid left a sour burn in the back of my throat. Inside the foyer, the house was quiet except for a hushed scratch and skip of the record player. It was dated, even though Dad had it in his old office. I’d just finished restoring it when I bought the house.
The interior was cold, colder than the air outside, if possible. Still, sweat dotted my skin as I crept into the home I’d claimed for myself. A home built and created by the two people I was here for. Moving on silent feet, I followed the hush and scratch from the vinyl down the hall to Dad’s old office.
