Page 101 of Broken Warrior
Then he storms out of my house, ignores Dori as she yells over Zak’s shoulder, and disappears into Jackal’s truck before peeling out of the driveway.
And I just stand there inside my front door, blinking, angrier, more scared and alone than I have been in a long time.
This is far from over, Finlay MacAllister, and fuck you for thinking it is.
CHAPTERNINETEEN
FIN
“John!”I yell as I pound on the front door of his house. “John, you motherfucker, open this goddamn door!”
“Cool it.” Jackal puts a hand on my shoulder but I shrug it off and keep banging on the wood in front of me. “You’re going to draw a lot of attention if you keep yelling like that, then Little John will be even more pissed off about our five a.m. wakeup call.”
I shoot my cousin a look over my shoulder, one that would turn him to dust if I had the ability to do so, then I turn back to the fucking door that won’t fucking open.
Any other situation, I’d listen to Jackal.
Fucking with Little John is dangerous regardless of how old the son of a bitch is, and if I were in my right mind, I sure as fuck wouldn’t be waking him up after getting out of MACs a few hours ago, especially unannounced and rolling seven deep on his front porch.
Ask me if I give a shit?
I don’t.
I don’t give one goddamn shit right now because my little buddy is fucking missing and I know in my gut that Little John can put me in contact with the only bastard in Sabine Woods who might have a line on the location of the motherfuckers who took him.
Tears—angry ones, terrified ones—spring to my eyes as I crumple that fucking note in my hand and think about James, think about how scared and alone my little buddy must be feeling.
The note says it all, really.
Come alone. Tell no one. Do as I say and he won’t get hurt. I might even let you both live if you do.
It sums up all my boy’s fears and when I found it outside James’s window, I knew without a doubt that I had failed him.
Howbetrayedhe must feel after listening to me promise to protect him from the boogeyman only to have the asshole break into their goddamn apartment and steal him right out from underneath us.
Howbetrayedhe must feel after listening to me promise to protect him from the boogeyman only to have the asshole break into their goddamn apartment and steal him right out from underneath us.
He must hate me.
James probably hates me almost as much as I hate myself because I fucking failed him.
I failed at keeping Tate safe while I was cleaning up the mess I made of my life and now I failed to keep my little buddy—my goddamn son—safe after promising I always would.
I’ll fix it, though.
I’ll get James back, I’ll kill his sperm donor with my own two hands, and then I’ll walk out of his and his mom’s life forever so this shit never happens again.
I will fix this.
“John!” I scream as I stop knocking and get ready to break the goddamn door down. “John, you have—”
“Jesus Christ, Spider,” he grunts as he throws open the door and lowers the shotgun in his hands. “What the fuck are you—”
I don’t give him time to finish his sentence because the minute the weapon is out of the way, I charge Little John like a raging bull, wrap a hand around his throat and use it to shove him against the wall across from us.
Squeezing just enough to make my point, I stare this scary bastard in the eye and grit, “Where is he?”
John blinks as his face reddens, his brow furrowing.
