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Turning to leave the boardroom, Montana, right behind me, carrying a large duffle bag over his shoulder, we both headed for the stairs that led down into the basement of the Soulless Sinner Clubhouse. The dark musty smell permeated the hall as we passed the club’s mailroom, our attention focused on a door at the end of the hall. I stopped before the door as I reached around my neck for the key I kept on a chain.
Montana did the same.
“For the record. This is a bad idea. We still have people we can reach out to.”
“Don’t care. That motherfucker has my wife. I will burn this city to the fucking ground to get her back and if unleashing the very hell that can make it happen works, then so be it,” I growled, looking at the bag at Montana’s feet. “This is my call. I made a fucking promise to him. Fucking swore a damn blood oath. We both did. He fucking finds out we knew and didn’t tell him, he will come after us. Fuck, Montana. His God damned temper is legendary. We all agreed to this fucked up plan. You knew it was a shit plan from the start.
“If that fucking Irish idiot hadn’t blown his cover, then none of this would be happening.”
“Well, he did,” I sighed, knowing the plan wouldn’t last forever.
We never intended it to. We had an endgame. “The bastard is in the damn wind, maybe even dead. If he’s alive, he’s the only one who can find him and you know it.”
“For the record, this is a bad fucking idea,” Montana barely said, and I had to agree. It was a bad idea all around. Why I agreed to go along with this asinine plan in the first place was beyond me. But it was done. I wanted my wife home and if bringing the dead back to life would ensure her return, then so be it. Petrovitch would never see him coming. Over the last few years, our mole had accomplished the impossible. He infiltrated Petrovitch’s organization and gathered a lot of information for us. Everything was working perfectly until it wasn’t.
Now we were scrambling to control the fallout.
The bodies were piling up fast, and this was the only way to stop him. “We are out of options. We knew this wasn’t going to last. Fucking miracle it lasted as long as it did. He is the only one who will know where to find our Irish mole. We have no choice. Or do you want to walk away and let the chips fall where they lay?”
He growled, “You know I don’t.”
“Then we are releasing the devil,” I said, inserting my key into the lock as Montana took a deep breath and inserted his key next to mine.
Together, we turned our keys and unlocked the door.
The only way we would ever have a chance at finding Illyria and ending Petrovitch was to bring in the one motherfucker who had nothing more to lose and no more fucks to give. It was a gamble, and this could go very fucking wrong, but we were out of options.
Opening the door, Montana followed me into the dimly lit room as I looked around. The room wasn’t much. Then again, the bastard never asked for much.
Just a bed and a lone picture.
Sitting with his back to us, we entered the room.
The first thing I noticed was the large Golden Skull tattoo on his back, mocking us as we moved closer. Almost as if it watched our every move, condemning us for our failure. Never imagined a fucking tattoo chastising me, but there it was, glaring at me.
I bet if I looked closely, I would see it shaking its head in disgust.
Neither of us knew what state he would be in.
Total isolation could drive even the most normal person insane. Considering he was borderline crazy to begin with, well, his mental state was anyone’s guess.
When we came up with this plan, none of us knew the outcome.
It was a Crapshoot. A gamble.
We all had our reasons for ending Petrovitch. We all had something to lose.
Montana wanted to protect his club.
I wanted to protect Illyria.
And he wanted to protect his wife.
It had been months since I saw him last.
The night we forced his hand.
I didn’t know what I expected, but not the fit, muscular man that was before me. It was as if time didn’t touch him. His hair was longer and the beard he sported gave him a more sinister look. He never moved from his spot as we walked closer. Hunched over, holding the only personal effect he had brought with him. His thumb slowly moved over her beautiful face.
