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GAVIN
I drop my neck to the side, tensing it just enough so that it cracks.
“You shouldn’t do that,” Gideon says from the front seat. He lifts the Glock he’s been loading and slaps the magazine into place.
“I don’t think it’s true about cracking bones and arthritis,” I tell him, and do the same to the other side.
He shrugs. “Maybe not. But I knew someone that did it often. When I broke his neck, his bones were so brittle, it snapped like a twig. Didn’t even make it fun.”
Rowan, who is sitting in the backseat of the black Suburban with me, shakes his head. He gives me an apologetic look, one that says, sorry this piece of shit is my brother, but he’s the best I could do to help you.
It’s true. Gideon is a piece of shit. So was my brother. Maybe even more so because I don’t think Sean would be driving me, much less my friend, into the heat of battle.
If I see things that way, I can tolerate Gideon a bit more. Even his grating arrogance is easier to swallow.
I still want to kill him someday. Maybe break his neck and test out that theory of his. For now, I need him.
The plan we’ve formulated over the last two days is a nighttime attack using only the tunnels not revealed on the blueprints.
When I showed Gideon the true map of The Red’s underground, he was so giddy I almost regretted telling him at all. I could see the wheels in his head turning. I don’t know what plans he conceived of while he studied the layout, but I’m sure I’ll find out soon enough.
Seven of us enter the southern tunnel entrance, located two blocks from the casino. Another seven go in through the northern, eastern and western entrances, equally.
Once we’re in place, the diversion is set into motion. An attack right through the front door. Through the street surveillance system we tapped into, we watch the four vans that screech to a halt at the entrance. Twenty men, all armed, pour from the vehicles and pound through the locked doors of The Red.
Instantly, gunshots ring through the air as the attack is met with full force. I cringe with every burst, aware that my home is being destroyed. But hurting her is the only way to get her back.
I glance at Rowan, who is standing at the ready, his firearm in hand. Then at Gideon. He too is ready, fully armed, but dressed in a suit like he’s heading to a business meeting. Anyone that saw him would assume he’s some fashion model. I know better. He’s as deadly as any of us. Maybe more so.
Rowan peers at his phone. “Ten seconds.”
Nine. Eight.
My palms are sweating. My heart pounds in my chest.
Seven. Six.
I’m filled with the adrenaline I’ve chased for years. But it’s not the same. Not when someone is waiting for me.
Five. Four.
Thoughts of Andie fill my mind. Images of her in my bed. In my arms. Of her eyes on mine.
Three. Two.
Adrenaline is replaced with something more powerful. Longer lasting.
Determination. I have to see her again.
One.
We all burst forward, clearing the tunnels of anyone that may have accidentally stumbled into them, until all teams meet in the center of the basement. Then, we follow the path assigned to each of us.
Rowan leads several men directly to Club Voyeur, clearing each floor as they go. Gideon remains in the lower levels with his team, ensuring no one comes or goes.
I lead my group directly to my office. Because if I were Marco and wanted to feel like king of the hill, that’s where I’d go.
Getting there proves much harder than I anticipated. The men we encounter aren’t just Marco’s own, but mine. Men that know the layout almost as well as I do. Their familiar faces would make it difficult to dispatch them if it wasn’t for the guns pointing at me.
