AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Once we're in position, everyone takes down the warehouses at the exact same time.”
“We gave them mercy last time, and look where it got us. Quince is dead and Ace is fucked up. Threats against our town—our families?” Nova shakes his head. “Nah, they don't get the chance to follow through on that.”
My phone vibrates in my hand, and a slew of p's fill the screen. “We're ready.”
Silas nods, his expression drawn up tight. “No mercy.”
The three of us ease out of the black SUV, guns drawn and carefully walk toward the warehouse.
The dull gray exterior is marred with graffiti and rust. All the windows on the first story are boarded up, and most of the ones at the top of the second story are broken. It looks like the kind of thing you'd see in a horror movie. Which I guess makes it a good hideout for assholes who do terrible shit.
Fresh tire tracks in the dirt around the outside inject some confidence inside me. Someone's been here recently. But something else feels off. It's quiet—too quiet.
Silas opens the side door, flecks of rust flying off, revealing a dark interior. The familiar dank smell of weed wafts out, and it seems like my intel was right. They've been using this location as a grow house.
“You good?” I murmur.
Silas takes point, first one inside the building while Nova covers him, and I cover us from behind. The three of us have done enough dangerous shit together that we naturally fall into this pattern. It's like riding a bike, some things I don't think I'll ever forget.
We carefully enter the warehouse, stepping over broken glass, cardboard boxes, and random pieces of metal. Dust swirls in the air, visible in the beams of sunlight from the upper windows. A few flickering fluorescent bulbs dangle from the ceiling, illuminating the space.
“What the fuck,” Nova curses.
“I'm going to find the other guys,” Silas murmurs, carefully weaving his way through all the shit on the ground to the rest of our guys.
I don't go with him. I don't need confirmation from them. I already know there's no one here.
I pull out my phone and send the letter c. As far as code words go, we're going elementary today. It's the best I could do with so many different people on such short notice.
I keep my gun close as I impatiently wait for text to come in. More c's fill the chat, but it's only enough for one of the places.
“Fuck.”
“Which one?” Nova asks, picking up on it immediately.
“The one just over the city limits.”
“Give them time, yeah? Jagger will come through. He always does,” Nova says.
Chances are they drew the short straw, and they're in the thick of it now. But if Savage Souls and Hell Hounds are there, they might need our help. Sweat breaks out along the back of my neck. This is why I don't make a move before I have all of the fucking information.
“Goddammit.” I pace a little bit, indecision weighing down my shoulders like a fucking lead blanket. “He's got five minutes for one of them to check in or we're just fucking going there ourselves.”
It's part of the very simple agreement. Text h if your warehouse is crawling with psychopath assholes and the rest of us will come. If they're not texting it's clear or that they need help, it can only be one of two things: they're pinned or they're already dead.
My head swims with possibilities, exit strategies, and backup plans. Every second that ticks by feels like a gong going off inside my head.
Two minutes later, my phone vibrates. I open the screen.
“C,” I murmur.
All the blood drains from my face as I scan the warehouse, searching for clarity. I look past the garbage everywhere, the overturned crates, and the ripped up couches. At first, it looked abandoned, but now that I'm really looking, there are signs of recent activity. A flatscreen TV in the corner, seedlings on the table, a half-full coffee pot.
This isn't an abandoned warehouse.
It's a carefully crafted scene. Something to keep us here, to distract us.
Adrenaline floods my veins as realization drowns me in its icy depths.
