Trouble in Hell (Hell Night 1)

Her eyes drop to the bed I’m lying on, and they widen fractionally. Worry lines appear on her face.

“What’s wrong?” I demand hoarsely.

Her eyes meet mine, but she speaks to Trouble. “You might want to hurry. She’s hemorrhaging heavily.”

TROUBLE

“MAE’S GONNA BE PISSED we missed Sunday dinner,” JW remarks as I pick up my phone and check my signal. We’ve been in a dead zone the last couple of hours and apparently still are. I toss it back in the cup holder.

“She’ll understand once she knows what we were doing,” I tell him.

Mae and Dale have known from the very beginning our need for revenge against the people who got away from the raid that night twenty-three years ago. We never kept our plans a secret from them. Of course, they worried about us getting caught or hurt in our endeavors, but they knew it was something that they couldn’t stop us from doing. What we went through as kids, what happened to my sister Rella, and what the other children living in Sweet Haven endured, wouldn’t let us. It was not only something we wanted to do, but something we needed to do. They witnessed the horrors back then, even went through it themselves when they were children. One thing they asked was for us to wait. To make something of our lives first. Reluctantly, we agreed. We each sought a career, and luckily those careers have helped aid us in our pursuit to rid Texas of sexual predators.

What Dale never knew before he died and what Mae still doesn’t know, is that we not only hunt down the bastards from our past, but we also take out ones who are accused of sexual assault against children and women who may get off on the charges, or ones who had shit sentences. Who in the fuck sentences someone to ten years in prison for raping a child, or five years-probation for beating his wife? That’s our fucked-up judicial system. When the government doesn’t take care of the sons-of-bitches, my brothers and I step in and do it for them.

We never sentence anyone to our brand of justice without looking at all the evidence. The innocent are accused every day, just as much as the guilty are set free. We ensure the people we slaughter are guilty of their accused crimes.

The bastard who robbed a house and beat the woman so badly she needed surgery, won’t be hurting anyone else.

Just as with Sophia, we’ll randomly check on the woman to make sure she’s doing okay. We also make sure the people we avenge are taken care of financially. The money never comes directly from us, but from an offshore account under the name Mitch Justice.

JW sighs and rubs a hand down his face. “Yeah. It’s a bitch that she even has to know.”

I couldn’t agree more. The more Mae knows, the worse it could potentially be for her if we were ever caught. It leaves a knot of guilt in all of our stomachs.

“It would be even more of a bitch if we didn’t tell her. You know how she is.”

Another request from Mae and Dale was we told them of each kill. Not for perverse knowledge, but to know just in case anything happened to any of us. We didn’t like it, but we understood and relented.

My phone chimes, interrupting my thoughts, and I pick it up to see I now have two bars. Noticing the voicemail icon at the top, my brows furrow as I press the call button. It’s coming up on three in the morning. Dread forms in the pit of my stomach. The monotonous tone tells me the voicemail was left about ten minutes ago and then recites Susan’s number.

At first, there’s nothing on the other end of the line. I’m just about to hang up when a soft whining sound comes, followed closely by a cry so loud that I spot JW out the corner of my eye whipping his head my way. The line goes dead after a moment.

My blood runs cold when I recognize the voice as Remi’s, and she’s obviously in pain. What the fuck is wrong with her? Is she in labor? She’s not due yet, but that’s a big possibility. The last time I saw her, the baby had flipped and was sitting low in her stomach.

We were supposed to be back early Saturday morning, unfortunately, the man Judge sent us after was a bitch to find. It took us a full day to locate him at his sister’s house. Once we did find him, we made him regret ever touching the woman of the house he broke into. As we stood there and watched him draw in his last few breaths, he begged us to spare his life. It was plea we ignored.

I’ve caught myself over the last couple of days thinking about Remi. For some unexplainable reason, I’ve been anxious over not being in Malus, and I know it’s because Malus is where she is. I don’t understand why, but I hated leaving her.

“What’s going on?” JW asks as I hang up and press Susan’s number.

“I don’t know yet.”

It rings twice before she answers. “Where are you?”

“What happened?” I demand instead of answering.

“Remi’s in labor. I’ve got Jenny here with me.”

“Fuck,” I hiss. “I’m forty-five minutes out.

“I don’t think she’s going to make it that long. The contractions are coming pretty quickly, and she went from six centimeters to eight in twenty minutes.”

“I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

She’s quiet for a moment. “You might want to hurry. She’s hemorrhaging heavily.”

“Shit,” I mutter the curse. “Find out her blood type and get some bags ready. I need to know what I’m dealing with when I get there, so do an ultrasound. Get everything ready for a caesarean, just in case. I’ll be there in thirty.”