Ice (Regulators MC 1)

Fuck, what have I gotten myself into?

Making my way out into the backyard, I answer the blocked call. “Ice.”

“Good morning, compañero de negocios,” Sandoval greets through the phone.

“What?”

“Word has it that you are looking to expand your options in your house of whores.” The greed he has is evident in every word.

“Possibly. I have room for more should an opportunity present itself. The last girls we got are working out well,” I lie. We are still trying to sort out the women’s identities. They were hooked on the drugs so long the detox almost killed them. Their memories are fuzzy at best, for the time being, and patience is a virtue, one I don’t have. In my line of work, it is both a blessing and a curse.

“Three more. Price is the same. Meet me tonight at the hangar, ten sharp.” He disconnects the call without another word.

This is just the break we have needed.

Rushing inside, I try to push aside the laughter I hear from my daughter only a few rooms away. When is the last time she really relaxed and laughed? Clearly, she doesn’t do this enough. Making a mental note to work on this, I continue to my room to get dressed while making a call for the boys to come in for sermon.

A quick change, goodbyes, and I am out the door in less than fifteen minutes. Arriving at the bat cave, I have everyone waiting on me.

“Sandoval is ready to do more business. We get three girls tonight. Screech, get on it. Track every single one of those fuckers we can. All damn day. They have to pick the girls up from the warehouse.”

“On it, Ice,” he replies while clicking madly on his keyboard. The screen switches from the live feed of the girls to a map with blinking lights for each phone he has a lock on already.

“He just made the wrong move in his very own game,” Coal says with a smirk.

The adrenaline in the air rises with each moment shared between me and my boys. We are so close; we can’t fuck it up now with a hasty decision. It is time to get prepared for war, something each and every man in this room is more than familiar with.

“Prep time. Meet me in the armory,” I order.

“Checkmate, motherfucker,” Hammer says, heading out the door to do what he does best—ready our weapons and load up.

The day passes in a whirlwind of checking and double checking our weapons. We know tonight is a make it or break it meeting with Sandoval. If all goes well, we will buy three more girls from the man we are now confident is behind the missing women and pinpoint where he is holding the others. If Screech can give us that information, we will launch a mission tomorrow to rescue the remaining women.

When night finally falls, we arrive at the hangar five minutes early. All except two of my men come with me. Inside, three of Sandoval’s men are waiting for us. One of them speaks into a walkie-talkie, and it is an easy guess that he is informing his boss of our arrival because, a mere minute later, Sandoval walks in from the hangar’s back door.

Me and every one of my men are on edge tonight. For them, it is because they know we are close enough to the end of this job. They can almost taste victory. For me, it is because I know that, if everything goes well, I will be bringing Madyson home to Morgan and Brooke tomorrow.

Just because we are ready to end Sandoval, does not mean we are cocky, though. If anything, we are that much more vigilant to any move, threat, or possibility that could put our mission in jeopardy.

All of us are ready to end this fucker.

The hangar is no different tonight than any other night. Although Sandoval should change up his meeting locations, I have information showing he has some of the patrolling officers of the area on his payroll. Add to it being privately owned, and you get the result that the security checks are scheduled rather than random. Lazaro Sandoval may have made his biggest mistake in finally becoming too comfortable.

With his trademark smarmy smile, Sandoval strides slowly over to me. “Your asere here is insatiable, no?” He glances over to Coal and gives him a wink. Referring to my brother as insatiable whether in Spanish or English is so far from the truth.

My VP may be a seasoned warrior, but a man can only take so much before he snaps. I don’t want to take the chance that Sandoval’s ribbing pushes Coal beyond his limits.

Shrugging to our seller, I reply nonchalantly, “What can I say, I like to keep my men in pussy. If I take care of them, they’ll take care of me.”