Jagger (Broken Doll 2) - Page 17

“What?” I pushed past Milo and grabbed Shade by the shoulders. “Where? How? Why aren’t we on our way? Fuck, tell me everything.” I motioned for him to follow me and barked out orders as I turned to leave. “Milo, call in the troops.”

“Yes, Boss,” he replied.

I strode out of the kitchen and hurried up the stairs, Shade close on my heels. While I changed clothes and strapped on my weapons, including my handgun and three knives, Shade told me everything, from who found Cuchillo, how they tracked him down, to the address of El Cuchillo’s safe house in Victoria, a two-hour drive from both Austin and San Antonio, to how many guys were guarding the property, and what weapons they had.

“Motherfucker,” I said in awe. “I can’t believe that plan worked.”

“Yep. You made the right call, Boss. Reaching out made it happen and I really think we’ll get her.”

Praise from Shade, a man I’d known for years, including the last five he worked for me, was not handed out without reason so I believed he meant every word. I clapped Shade on the back.

“It will. Don’t say anything to any of the men. We still don’t know who told Cuchillo about Miri and how important she is to me or where to find us. Now,” I adjusted my wrist sheaths. “We have a war to fight.”

* * *

“Boss, I should really come with you,” Milo said for the umpteenth time since we arrived at the pre-arranged meeting place outside the remote town of Victoria, Texas.

I spun on my heel in the dusty parking lot and Milo nearly crashed into me. Shade and Sarge stopped as well, their eyes bouncing between my lieutenant and me.

“This is how it’s fucking going down, Milo. If you don’t like it, too goddamn bad.” I stepped up into his face, ready to just slit the asshole’s throat and be done with it. “Stop talking, stop thinking, stop fucking doing anything but what I tell you, got it?”

I held his furious brown glare. Milo’s nostrils flared and the muscles in his cheeks pulsed, but he backed down.

“Yes, Boss.”

Halle-fucking-lujah!

We entered the dark building and wound our way through a few turns until the hallway opened into a large, well-lit structure. I scanned the space and recognized my men, all of them, standing along one wall, shooting hostile looks across the way.

On the opposite side of the room stood an almost equal amount of men, just as intimidating and untrusting as my guys. I only knew a few of the faces. One in particular stood out.

He nodded his head toward a door at the back of the room. I returned the gesture and followed the man as he strode with confidence toward the door. Using caution, I slipped my hand into my waistband, ready to pull my nine mil if the guy tried anything funny. He opened the door and stepped aside so I could check it out.

The room was empty.

I dropped my hand back to my side. “After you,” I said, gesturing for my guest to go first.

He grinned and the skin around his light eyes crinkled.

“Always so careful,” he said with a hint of amusement. “Smart man.” He entered the room and I closed the door behind us.

We stood on opposite sides, silently assessing each other. It had been a long time since I’d last seen the man. He hadn’t changed much. Still tall, though a few inches shorter than me, his dark auburn hair clipped military short. He wore a crisp suit and I easily spotted the bulge of his weapon under his left arm.

“So, Boss. Long time, eh?”

“Yes. It has been a long time, Brick.”

“Let’s not beat around the bush then,” Brick said. “You wanted my help, I delivered.”

“You did,” I agreed.

He stepped forward, pulled out a chair from a small table, and sat. With his hands folded on top of the worn surface, Brick smirked.

“Have a seat, my friend. Let’s make this deal.”

I dropped into the other chair and nodded. “You will get everything I promised, Brick. When I get her back, alive.”

“Those were the terms,” he acknowledged. “But I want the announcement made before we leave.”

Tags: Heather C. Leigh Broken Doll Dark
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