Chapter Ten
Hush
My eyes snapped open. It was pitch black. I wondered where the hell I was . . . then fragmented pieces of lost memory began flooding into my mind. I shook my head as the sound of deeply spoken Spanish words circled above my head . . . heavy footsteps on wooden floorboards . . . screams, shouting . . . and the sound of gunshots being fired.
No . . . I scrambled to get up. My head hit something immediately above me. I looked up. Light was creeping through some slats. My hand hit the wood above me. It moved a little, yet somehow it was sealed shut. I pushed and pushed, using what little strength I still had to force it open. With a snap, the wood gave way; it was a door, built into the floorboards of Sia’s closet downstairs.
“Sia!” I called as I climbed out, my voice quiet and hoarse—the after-effects of the seizure. I needed water. My mouth was bone dry. But my feet led me through the house instead. I checked each room, my heart beating faster with every step. “Aubin!” My chest tightened. Every room I went in was trashed, furniture thrown over on its side. “No,” I whispered, my skin slick with sweat.
I burst out of the front door. I ran as fast as I could toward the barn. I saw the blood coming from under the stalls before I’d even flicked on the light.
I didn’t bother looking, knowing that all Sia’s prized horses had been killed . . . then my feet ground to a stop when I saw a hand on the floor, blood pooled around the fingers as it lay limply on the concrete.
I was welded to the spot. Because it was a female hand. “Sia,” I whispered. My legs shook, but I made them move. I couldn’t breathe as I rounded the corner. Every fucking part of me was braced to find her gone. Then when dark hair came into view, I exhaled a quick breath and jumped to the girl’s side. “Clara,” I called gently and checked her pulse. But I didn’t need to . . . her eyes were staring up at the ceiling, frozen, Hades’ hand clutching her firmly in his death grip.
A gunshot wound tracked through to the center of her heart.
Shit. I got to my feet, searching around me, trying to figure out what the fuck to do. I raced back toward the house. I opened the garage door, jumping on the old Harley. I gunned it out of the ranch and onto the back roads that would lead me to the Hangmen.
With each mile the bike ate up, I tried to think on how long I was out . . . and who the fuck put me under the floorboards. And more than that, why the fuck didn’t they get in there too?
Clara had been warm, but below normal body temperature, which told me she had been there a while. “Fuck!” I screamed into the wind slapping my face.
Garcia. It had to be.
“Fuck!” I screamed again and turned right toward the compound. My hands shook on the handlebars. My body wanted to rest, but there was no fucking way that was happening.
Aubin.
Sia.
Fuck!
Zane and Lil’ Ash sat on the gate. I pulled to a halt. I saw them look at each other, obviously worried. “Open the fucking gate!” I yelled, revving the engine.
They looked at each other again. I was suspended. They’d have been given orders not to let me or Cowboy near this place. “It’s an emergency!”
Zane went for the cell, but Lil’ Ash met my eyes. Clearly seeing something on my face, he let me in. The gate had barely opened when I tore through it. I practically threw the bike to a stop and launched off the saddle. I ran, swaying slightly, and burst into the bar. The minute I did, my brothers jumped to their feet, hands on their guns.
AK rolled his eyes. “Fuck, Hush. Thought we were getting invaded.” His sniper eyes narrowed, and he pushed past Viking to say, “What’s wrong? You look like shit.”
“I need to see—”
“What the fuck are you doing here?” Ky barreled out of the prez’s office and beelined for me. His blue eyes, the same fucking eyes as Sia’s, were red and tired . . . but filled with fucking wrath.
“They’ve got her,” I answered. Ky stopped dead in his tracks. I felt my face contort with fear and rage. “They’ve fucking got them both.”
The color drained from Ky’s cheeks. The brother didn’t move. Styx pushed past him and got in my face. His hands flew in sign, but the few words I’d managed to learn were a blur as I struggled to focus, still feeling the effects of the seizure.
“I don’t know what you’re saying!” I shouted.
AK stepped beside Styx, keeping his eyes on his hands. “What happened? Who got them?”
I shook my head, my feet needing to move, to go after them. But I didn’t know where the fuck they were.
“Garcia, I think . . .” I squeezed my eyes shut, racking my head for some kind of memory. “I heard Spanish . . .” I opened my eyes to find Styx’s eyes boring into mine. I dropped my gaze to the floor. My hand ran over my shaved head, over and over again, just so I had fucking something to do with it. “They killed all her horses.” I felt the tension in the room rise. “And her assistant . . . Clara. Fuck, the bitch was too young. Shot her in the heart.”
“Where were you?” AK asked the question, but I knew it had come from Styx. I was mute, the need to keep my seizures hidden soldering shut my lips.
“Where the fuck were you?” Ky’s voice was like death itself. I kept my head down, my heart fucking kicking into a sprint. Two hands slammed onto my chest and knocked me back. I collided with a table and chairs. I kept my ground, but once again Ky’s hands were on my cut, pulling me to smash against his chest. “Why have my sister and Cowboy been taken and you fucking haven’t? You were there, protecting her! Why the fuck has she gone, but you’re here?” he snarled. “Is it because you’re a fucking pussy? Because you fucking saw them coming and saved yourself? I should never have let you near her. You don’t fucking belong with her. Saving yourself, and—”
“Because I’m epileptic, motherfucker!” I smacked his hands from my cut and fucking pushed him back. I was done. So fucking done. Done with it all. With all these fuckers who kept saying I didn’t belong. I was fucking done. “I’m epileptic and I had a fucking seizure.” I went for him again, but hands grabbed me around the waist. I glanced down, seeing Nazi shit against my cut, and I fucking saw red. I spun and smashed my fist into Tanner’s jaw. His head snapped back. Tank dove forward and pulled Tanner back from my flying fists.
I turned, panting, and glared at Ky. “And I fucking belong with her. With both of them!” Tears of rage built behind my eyes. If Cowboy were here, he would be telling me to calm down. But he wasn’t. They’d fucking taken him . . . taken her . . . and I was out here on my fucking own.
“Let’s speak the fucking truth, brother. It’s because I’m black. You didn’t want your sister with a fucking half-breed, right? A mongrel?” I knew I should shut my mouth, but I couldn’t stop now I’d started. “The coon failed on protecting your sister—your sister who you’d just thrown to the fucking wolves, no protection of the ranch, because she was fucking a spook. If it had just been Cowboy, you wouldn’t have given two shits. But because I was there too, it became a real fucking issue for your Aryan self. Yeah, VP?” Ky opened his mouth, but I couldn’t stop. “This fucking club! You’re all just like everyone else! You only just started letting anyone of color in ten years ago. Only white brothers up until then.”
I glanced at the clock on the wall. My stomach twisted with dread. “Four hours,” I guessed, and felt my fucking heart shred. “It’s been about four hours since they were taken.”
“It ain’t because you’re black.” Ky’s voice was like thunder in the silent
room. I worked on breathing. I worked on calming my pulse. I just worked on not falling apart when my best friend, my fucking brother, and the bitch I was fucking in love with . . . the only ones I’d ever let in . . . had been taken by a trafficker. A sadistic bastard who wanted to own Sia . . . and would probably kill Aubin for the inconvenience that she loved him too.
Ky’s boots entered my peripheral vision. “I couldn’t give two shits that you’re black. Fuck, you could be neon pink, or even a ginger—”
“Hey!” I heard Vike protest.
“But it ain’t because you’re black.”
“You get seizures?” AK asked. Looking up, I saw that Styx’s hands had been working.
“I’m coming to Mexico. I’m not staying behind. That’s my fucking bitch and best friend they’ve taken. I’m not getting grounded. And if I ain’t going with you, I’m going alone. I had a fucking seizure, and they moved me. Hid me, so I wasn’t taken. I don’t know why they didn’t hide too.” I swallowed the lump in my throat. “I woke up to fucking carnage, and them gone.”
Styx’s jaw clenched. He lifted his hands. “Not grounding you,” AK said, translating. The massive brother came to stand next to Ky. “You should’ve told us,” AK went on, following Styx’s hands.
“How do we get them back?”
“Church, now,” Ky ordered, and we all followed.
Ky spoke, translating for Styx. “We know where he lives. We’ve been there before.” I thought back to Sia, to how she said she managed to get out. Styx glanced at Ky, then the rest of us, and said, “I’ve been in close contact with Chavez, the Diablos’ prez. He agreed to help if shit went south with Garcia.”
Styx paused, and Ky, this time, spoke for himself. “Garcia is part of the Quintana cartel. When we went in before, he had a small operation; now it’s huge. Alfonso Quintana, the cartel boss, invested heavily in Garcia’s business.” Ky rolled his hand into a fist on the tabletop. “He doesn’t just traffic bitches now. He moves guns and snow.”
Styx signed and Ky said, “They’ve been encroaching on Diablo turf. Snow, mainly. Chavez is pissed.”