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“Are you in?” Blade asks when Rage puts the phone on speaker.
“No one is answering. The door is locked. Do you see anything from where you are?” Rage asks.
“No. Stone and I are checking the back, but everything is shut. I can see a light on, but with the blinds closed, we got nothing. I say just break in. We got this place surrounded if anyone tries to run,” Blade says.
Rage and Vance have a silent conversation with their eyes while I step past them and let my rage fuel me.
“Prepare yourselves,” I say loud enough that Blade can hear it as well over the phone. Raising my foot, I kick the seam of the doors and watch as the weak double doors break apart with ease. Yanking my gun out I begin checking each room.
As we make our way through, I freeze at the entrance to their large dining room. Rage steps up next to me and lets out a slew of curses just as Vance walks in from the entry on the opposite side of the room.
“H-help,” the woman before us stammers, her eyes just barely crack open, letting us see the same exact blue eyes that Ben has.
Rage approaches the woman as she lays on the floor, her hands tied behind her back. Her face is covered in bruises, and there is blood coating her from head to toe. I can’t even make out if it is hers or not.
“Who did this?” Rage asks as he checks her over.
“He’s lost it—” she gasps. “He’s gone off the rails.”
Sobs wrack her body, and she wraps her arms around her stomach when Rage cuts off the binds around her wrists. She rocks back and forth on the floor, sobbing and praying.
Vance approaches the other person in the room, who I guess would be Ben’s father. He is in rough shape. Bleeding from multiple wounds and passed out. Vance pulls out his phone and shoots off a text.
“Is he alive?” I ask.
Vance nods. “Barely.” One of his men walks in and hands something to Vance. When I raise a brow, he smirks. “Smelling salts.” He puts them under the man’s nose, prompting him to instantly wake up screaming in pain.
Vance slaps his face to get him to concentrate. “Where is Benjamin?”
“Vance? What are you doing here?” he croaks out, finally seeing who hovers over him.
“Where is your son?” he asks again.
The man shakes his head. “Gone. He isn’t my son anymore; he’s lost it. V-Vance… he’s working for your enemy. I swear I didn’t know—I tried to stop it. I tried.” He starts gurgling, and blood begins pooling in his mouth.
Vance stands and steps back, watching him die, but his body is tense. He looks on the verge of snapping and killing everyone in the room.
The man who brought in the smelling salts watches Vance carefully. “Does he mean—”
“Yes,” Vance snaps, turning his glare on him.
“What’s going on?” I demand.
“It would seem that Benjamin has dug himself a very deep hole, and if I had to guess, things aren’t working out how he thought they would. My greatest enemy, an enemy my family has had for decades, the Mafia Don of Montana has decided to stir the pot once again,” he says through clenched teeth.
“She is still alive and needs a doctor,” Rage insists.
Vance nods. “Let me call my men. They will get her taken care of. We need to ask her questions, so alive is good.”
A few minutes later, everyone has gathered inside. They searched everywhere, and Ben is not here now. His father is dead, and his mother is being taken to a hospital that will fix her without asking question since Vance owns it.
To sum it all up, Ben isn’t fucking here. Christ.
If we don’t find him before he can get out of town, then he could go back to Montana or contact them and ask for protection. We don’t know how deep their relationship goes and whether they would step in if he asked them to.
We might be out of our depth here.
“We need to go speak with Presley’s parents,” I say to Rage as we walk out.
