Page 107 of Broken Warrior
So, after running through his extensive file and mentally comparing it to what I remember from mine, Victor took us to that rundown motel just outside of Rolling Meadows and when we walked into the room, my blood fucking boiled.
Rosco Shapiro had clearly been watching Tate and James for weeks, possibly months based on what we saw, and if the fucker wasn’t dead and turned to ash in Berk’s back room, I would have killed him with my bare hands.
Tate at work. On stage, coming and going from The Dollhouse, talking with Ember. He had pictures of her with Trent, studying with Elias, walking in and out of the dressing room backstage. Rosco had photos of my dark angel leaving her apartment, grocery shopping, and I’m almost positive a couple of them were of Tate leaving the nursing home my fucking mom is in.
And while all of that had my adrenaline through the roof and the need to kill everyone affiliated with him stronger than ever, what sent me over the fucking edge were the handful of photos on the writing desk along with his notes.
They were of TateandJames.
My dark angel and my little buddyleaving Cy and Theo’s place. Multiple times.
That bastard got on Kings’ territory without ever being noticed, completely undetected, and not only was he a threat to the only two people I will ever love the way I love them, Rosco threatened my brother, his wife, and their unborn child.
The only silver lining through all of that was the fact it seemed like that slimy fucker hadn’t had the chance to mail them off to Valetti yet based on his notes and the envelope sitting with them. It was addressed to a PO Box in California but there was no postage on it, so I could only assume that meant Valetti didn’t have Cy’s address.
Hopefully.
Once I calmed the fuck down, we scrubbed the room, took everything pertaining to Tate and James as well as Shapiro and the motherfucker he worked for, which was how we stumbled across a very important piece of information.
An address.
An address to an abandoned church, a very specific and secluded location in Rolling Meadows.
That little town breeds and feeds the worst of the worst human beings, and it’s Demon Seed turf, so having someone like Rosco working out of it in any capacity makes total sense. If Beau the Butcher got wind of the Valetti family moving in temporarily he wouldn’t even bat an eye, so long as they didn’t interfere with his business or try to move in on their territory.
I hate to admit it, but it was actually really fucking smart.
The Wulven Kings don’t do much with Rolling Meadows, nothing more than occasional patrols because the entirety of El Paso County is ours, and after all the shit with the Cobra Cons, Prez felt like we needed to be more present there. But we’ve had patches and prospects doing most of that shit so there’s no real way we would’ve known Rosco Shapiro was holed up in that shithole because they haven’t been let in on the specifics of our activities outside of the club; they weren’t looking for him or anyone like him.
Shacking up just outside Rolling Meadows, picking some rundown and forgotten church to meet Valetti in, none of that would go noticed by our members, and most likely didn’t hit the Demon Seeds’s radar either. It was a smart play by a dumb shit.
Until he caught the eye of The Harvester of Bones.
And knowing what I do now, that Victor was—is—living in Little John’s junkyard in Birch Creek. That the two of them have a history I’ll deep dive into when all of this is said and done, and his connection to the Kings is by default as well as an outside affiliation, definitely meant Rosco drew attention from the wrong guy.
And I’m glad as fuck he paid for it.
Once James is safely back with his mom and I’m out of their life for good, I might bring Victor to Prez and see if we can’t convert or at least recruit the serial killer to be the Kings’ very own Little John. Given I don’t strangle the bastard between now and then.
“We’re close,” Pope grunts as he slows the SUV to a crawl. He glances at me from the corner of his eye then pulls off the road and idles the Escalade, no doubt giving me a second to review the plan I put together and decide if that’s still what I want to do.
It is.
My plan is the only way, it has to be, and if I can’t pull it off then whatever happens to me because of it will be deserved.
With a deep breath, I twist in my seat and look at the four men ready to save my son, ready to do whatever it takes to bring James home safely, then dial Brick and put him on speaker as his truck pulls up behind us. “I go in alone.”
Jackal flinches, goes tense, but nods.
“The four of you get out here, wait with Brick, Chop, and Crunchy. I’ll take the Escalade up to the road, park it at the church in a way that blocks any incoming or outgoing vehicles. Based on Shapiro’s notes, Valetti should only have two of his guys with him—Nick and most likely Bruno, Rosco’s brother.”
“You sure it’ll only be the three of them?” Brick asks through the phone.
“Almost one hundred percent.” My heart starts to race but I ignore it for now. “Since this is more about Tate than James, Valetti will want to be there when they get her back. And he wouldn’t have felt like he needed more than his two most trusted goons, especially since he probably has no idea what happened to Rosco yet. He thinks Tate is still terrified of him, thinks she was the one who found the note he left about contacting him without involvement from the Kings or the police.” The note stating as much with the phone number to a burner phone scribbled on it, the one I found outside the window in James’s room when I went running after them. The note only my brothers know about. “Not only is he expecting to get a call from Tate and no one else, Valetti is assuming that none of us know what’s happened because he figures Tate will keep her mouth shut in order to ensure James is safe, and I’m the last person he’d expect to see come walking through those doors.”
“And you’re sure he won’t just…” Jackal swallows thickly. “Valetti isn’t going to shoot you on sight?”
I shrug. “It’s possible but unlikely. There’s a better chance that he’ll keep me as extra collateral once James reacts to seeing me.” Then he’ll wait for Tate to show up, shoot me when she doesn’t, and probably dump my body on Cy’s porch to get her to do what he wants. “If Valetti has two pawns in his game, he will assume the chances of him winning are even higher.”
