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I knew the road well. My Gulfstream was tucked away in the same complex. My pilot was on standby, the jet fueled and ready to go at a moment’s notice.
If Hale was running…it’d be fast and under the radar. So this was perfect. I gripped the wheel and focused on the road. But it didn’t matter how hard I stared at the flashing white lines as they passed me. Vivienne’s words rose to haunt me.
Right now, we’re all dangerous…
I clenched my jaw as the sparkling lights from the hangar shone in the distance. She couldn’t be more fucking right. I never slowed, even when the road veered to the left and away from the private area. The place was illuminated by security floodlights, hidden behind a high eight-foot fence topped with razor wire. But that didn’t stop me from jerking the wheel and hurtling the Audi toward the gates.
Thanks to Vivienne, I knew the car could withstand the impact.
I clenched my grip, ground my teeth, and braced for impact as the Audi hit the gates with a brutal bang. The locks on the gate shattered as I flew forward, hitting the steering wheel hard enough to knock my breath free in a whoosh. Steel scraped as I burst in and tore toward the far end of the massive steel building. Lights were on in the hangar Hale owned, the shine spilling under the door.
I fixed on that glow as I pumped the brakes and wrenched the steering, skidding the car to a stop just outside the cracked open roller door. There was no room for thinking now. I acted on emotion alone as I stabbed the seatbelt and shoved out of the door.
My boots thundered as I yanked my gun from the waistband of my pants and ran. I ached to put a fucking bullet in Hale’s brain, right after I got Colt back. Then I’d wipe that motherfucker from this world…forever.
I focused on that feeling as I grabbed the open roller door and shoved, striding into the private hangar. Hale’s Boeing 767 was still there. Gleaming. Perfect…and silent. I scanned the space, searching for Hale or his pilot. Maybe I caught them before they geared up?
My footsteps were quiet as I lifted the gun and took aim. I’d take out his pilot, Ulrich, if I could. He had another on standby, but if it cost him time before he fled the state and the country, then I’d fucking take it. Anything to give me a few more precious moments to track Colt down.
But the moment I stepped around the front of the jet, I realized something was off. There was no pilot, just a worker sweeping the concrete floor of the hangar like it was a normal fucking day. He worked with his back to me, earphones on, humming away, oblivious to me standing behind him with the gun in my hand and murder on my mind.
My mind raced as I glanced around the space. I’d thought for sure he would be here…but he wasn’t. I took a step backwards, moving without a sound, until I stepped around the nose of the plane and kept on moving.
Hale wasn’t flying.
That meant only one thing.
He was still here…
I strode out of the hangar and climbed back into the Audi, ignoring the cracked headlights and deep gouges at the front. My thoughts turned to the many dark corners that cockroach could hide in and, as I backed out and drove forward, one pushed to the front of my mind. If he wasn’t at The Command Room, then he wouldn’t be far away.
After all…it was where he enjoyed watching the Daughters ply their skills.
I flew past the open gates of the hangar area and kept driving.
Thoughts pushed in…I killed her…I killed Ophelia.
“Jesus, Colt,” I murmured. “What the fuck were you thinking?”
My gut clenched at the thought of my son being pushed to do what he had. Blood-matted hair, a smashed in skull. Ophelia had looked like she’d been in a car wreck. But it wasn’t a car that had done that…it was my son.
The kind of rage that came from someone broken.
I fixed my gaze on the lights of the city and turned along the built-up streets, heading to the whorehouse that doubled as a nightclub for the elite. The place where Hale came alive. I jerked the wheel and pulled into the small backstreet that led to the club, then braked at the entrance.
Cars packed the small parking lot. I braked behind a sleek black Bentley and climbed out. The faint thud of a heavy beat reverberated in the air, growing stronger as I headed for the rear door. There was no downtime in this place, just a constant, steady stream of Daughters from The Order and men who paid well to use them.
I swallowed hard as I punched in the code for the rear door. A code I’d used enough times to commit to memory. A code I’d never wanted to use again. That heavy beat vibrated through the handle. I turned, pushed through the door, and stepped into the darkened hallway.
There were already Daughters waiting.
One knelt on the floor just inside the doorway. The sheer red lingerie drew my gaze as I closed the door behind me. She was posed for that act alone. Just inside enough that I had to look down on her…
I imagined what that image might invoke in another man. It’d make him feel…superior, powerful…dangerous, for her, that is.
I swallowed hard, my gaze moving over her bowed head and parted thighs. Shaved and clean. She wore suspenders hanging lose and nothing else, leaving her bare and open to view.
My cheeks burned as I looked away. But there were five more of them waiting. Barely dressed, conditioned to be used.
