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That wouldn’t only put my brothers and me at risk but also my sister and her kids, and while it was no longer my home—I respected her choice to continue to make it hers.
Knowing now, though, that they had her locked up made me want to be a lot less polite and feel a lot more like I needed to remind these bastards who the hell they were messing with.
The Valley took a part of me once.
I wouldn’t let them take a part of her too.
“I think I need to know what the fuck those bastards have done to my sister.”
HAWK
My stomach churned as we rode down the narrow road, which was a far cry from the city streets and highways we were used to in Detroit. Bishop rode in front of me while Cain and Scoop rode at the rear. It wasn’t often we rode without Cain taking point. As road captain, it was Cain’s job to plan the route, get us where we needed to go, and make sure we had a plan if anything went south while we were traveling.
This time though, it was different.
Personal.
Bishop and I knew these roads like the back of our hands. They raised me—this land was my home for more than the first ten years of my life—and I’d spent the past twenty years trying to stay the fuck away from them.
The luscious green fields full of grass and crops began to disappear, and houses appeared in their place. They were mostly older buildings, genuine pieces of history that had been well looked after and preserved by the people in the small town of Barton.
It was a blink-and-you’d-miss-it type of town. Buildings lined the main road for about three miles before you were suddenly back in the middle of farmlands again. Bishop signaled to the left with two fingers, and the four of us eased into the parking lot of the Dollar General, which was one of only six stores, all owned and run by The Valley members.
The Valley had their fingers in every fucking pie you could think of. They had stores and farms, they owned real estate. There were politicians, CEOs and police—people in power—happily on The Valley’s payroll.
This wasn’t just a cult.
These bastards had connections that rivaled those of well-known crime families.
And me being here was about to make them incredibly fucking angry.
The four of us parked our rides side by side, facing the exit in case we needed to make a quick getaway, though I had no intentions of leaving until someone important knew that I was here because the purpose of this visit wasn’t to make demands that I knew they would never meet.
This was about reminding them that someone was watching.
This was their warning.
The only one they’d get.
“What do we do now?” Scoop questioned, kicking out his stand and climbing off his ride.
“We wait,” I answered, doing the same. “I give it ten minutes.”
Bishop scoffed, swiping beads of sweat from his brow as he kicked at the dirt. “They’ll be here in seven.”
Scoop raised a brow at us. “News we’re here will spread that quick?”
The front door to the Dollar General slammed shut, and all four of us turned just in time to see a small hand jam a closed sign into the window.
“They already know we’re here.” I glanced back down the road we’d ridden into town on and noted that the curtains, which had been open only moments ago, were now pulled tightly closed, some with eyes peeping through the slim cracks.
“This place scares the fuck out of me,” Cain said, standing tall and pulling his long hair back from his face, tying it in place with a ponytail holder. “It’s giving me zombie apocalypse vibes… and we’re the zombies.”
“I’d rather be a vampire,” Scoop said casually. “I could do blood, but brains seem like they’d be chewy.”
Bishop shook his head. “I swear to fucking Go—”
A run-down, single-cab pickup came shooting through town, kicking up dust and gravel as they pulled into the parking lot, circling around us before skidding to a stop. “Less than five,” Cain commented under his breath. “I’m almost impressed.”
