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“And we need to find her.” I swear I’m gonna lose my temper with him.
“Who’s this guy?” He stares at the disturbed looking stranger, who's claiming to be Savannah's fiancé.
“I’m Daniel, I’m—”
“He’s Savannah's fiancé,” Maisie interrupts him and suddenly even my brother looks shocked.
“Well, he should be the one to find her then. Come on, we need to find out who these dogs belong to.” He places his hat on his head and heads out the door
“Go with him. We’ll find her,” Maisie promises me, and figuring the best place for me is somewhere away from this whole fucked up situation, I follow my brother out the door.
“Holy shit.” I shine the torch on the ground where the blood and guts are spread out from the massacre.
“Mitch heard the commotion from the cabin he’s staying at, he came out here just in time to see the trucks pulling away.
“How many?” I ask.
“Four trucks full of dogs.” His eyes are full of anger. He’s only wearing a white tee and his boxers and must be freezing his balls off. I got the number plate from one of ‘em. I’ve already sent it to Zayne.”
“I don’t think we need it.” Garrett shakes his head as he looks down at the massacre for himself.
“Only one person I know of around here who keeps that many dogs.”
“The Bambrooks fight their dogs, they don’t do this shit. Besides, they got no issue with us,” Mitch points out when he gets what Garrett’s suggesting.
“The Bambrooks will do anything for a fast buck,” I back up my brother. This has got them written all over it.
“Come on. Let's go have a talk with them.” He starts heading for the truck
“Garrett, that's not a good idea.” Mitch quickly pulls him back.
“Of course it is, there are over thirty dead cattle here, Mitch. I don’t know why they did this, but I’m sure as fuck gonna find out.”
“I ain’t saying that they don’t need to be spoken to. I’m just sayin’ that it can’t be by you who goes. You can’t risk nothing right now, boss, you gotta step back and let other people deal with this kinda thing.”
“But—”
“No buts, not until we’re clear of Harvey. Cole’s got this. Dalton’s already on his way back. They can go with Tate and Finn and do what needs to be done. You, you go home to your wife and your kids and you plan what you're gonna say at the charity auction on Friday night.”
“I fucking hate this.” Garrett slams his boot into the dead carcass by his feet.
“I know.” I grip his shoulder. “But don’t you worry. I’ll make those assholes wish they never heard of our family, let alone fucked with it,” I promise.
We arrive at the Bambrook house an hour later, the place isolated from anywhere, tucked inside a valley, but you can hearit from miles away because of all the barking dogs. It ain’t their fault, the poor bastards have been trained to kill since they were pups, the real beasts are their owners, the ones who put ‘em in the fights and work ‘em ‘til they’re dead. The men who ensure these animals will have to be caged their whole lives because they’ve had aggression bred and trained into them.
Every one of those men are gonna die tonight.
“How many?” Dalton asks as Tate looks through the binoculars.
“I count six.” He looks up. There’s only four of us but that doesn’t matter, after hearing about Savannah’s secret fiancé, I got the power of a dozen men inside of me.
“Come on, ain’t no use sitting around here waiting.” I wanna unleash my anger and spill blood. I lead the silent march down through the valley and up to the Bambrook brothers’ front door with Dalton, while Tate and Finn head around the back. The dogs are barking at the metal cage they’re trapped in, covered in our herd’s blood, frothing at the mouth, and looking ready to fuckin’ kill all over again. Which is why we have to make sure the cunts inside don’t get the chance to let them loose on us.
“They wouldn’t kill a human, would they?” Dalton whispers as we wait for the text to come through from Tate to say they’re in position.
“I don’t think they have a preference.” I shrug, taking a breath when my phone lights up, then moving fast to kick the door through. Three startled faces look up at me, proving that these fuckers are cowards when they haven’t got the power of their dogs to back ‘em up. Two run for the back door while the one bolts for the kitchen, and that’s the fucker I chase down and grab by the ankles before he can climb out of the window. I waste no time, there are six of ‘em to kill. That’s why this one gets the privilege of a quick death when I wrap my hands around his jaw and use it to snap his neck.
One of his buddies comes down from upstairs to see what the commotion is and Dalton gets to him before he can run back up, grabbing him by the ankle and dragging him back to the bottom so he can kick the shit into him. Tate and Finn are busy causing pain for the two men that ran for the back door, while I rush upstairs to find the other two men Tate counted. I find one in the shower, his music playing so loud that he’s oblivious to the carnage happening downstairs. Sneaking up behind him, I grab him by the back of his head and slam him face-first into the facet. He moans like a fuckin’ pussy as blood spurts from his nose and when I continue to ram his face into the tiles over and over again, he cries so loud you can hear him over his drum and bass.
