His answering laugh was dry and humorless. “Not even fucking remotely. I’ll be better when we get back to her. Don’t ask me any more dumb shit until she’s in my arms.”
Fair enough. A voice finally sounded on the other end of the phone—some detective on the case whose name I hadn’t bothered memorizing.
“I’m fixing to make your day. No names, no questions. And don’t even bother trying to trace the call. You’ll find two high-ranking members of the DiAngelo family restrained inside a house at the coordinates I’m sending. Along with several of their goons, all restrained but, for the most part, unharmed. You’ll also find physical evidence inside to make your case airtight, including body cam footage that covers every inch of what my people found inside. There were children in the holding cells in the basement. They’re safe, and I’ll make sure they’re cared for. That’s all you need to know. You’re welcome.”
I disconnected the call mid-question, and looked at thetime before dropping the phone on the floor and stomping on it.
Jackson joined us in the hallway, and the three of us made our way out of that hellhole. A team would come through after we left and remove any evidence of us having been there.
Diego could sense something was wrong the second we got back to the van. “What happened?”
I shook my head. “Nothing that affects what happened here today. Just… let’s get home. Then debrief.” Diego glanced at Jackson, who shook his head. A subtle sign not to press me. Dalton sat with his head pressed against the side of the van, face to the roof and eyes closed. I climbed in across from and, a few minutes later, we were headed home.
*
I surveyed the scene in front of me. Three vans had pulled up about thirty minutes ago, and my heart bottomed out when the doors opened to reveal children inside. All wrapped in soft blankets, all looking like they were seeing the light of day for the first time in years. The light of hope. Medics were waiting. Volunteers too. People who didn’t ask questions. They approached the vans, and coaxed the kids out with steady hands and warm hearts. I wasn’t a crier, but I couldn’t deny the tears in my eyes. My boys did this—they saved these kids. If that wasn’t enough to make a girl fall in love, then I don’t know what would.
I was so distracted watching the team of volunteers take care of the survivors that I almost missed Mac and Dalton’s van pulling in. A second later, Holly joined me. Maria had already gone home to the kids, but I had sent her a text when the other vans got here so she was already onher way. Jackson got out first, and Holly immediately headed towards him. I saw her pause, and then she was reaching for him, her eyes scanning his face before pressing a kiss to his lips and resting her forehead against his. His hands were trembling as they came to rest on her back, probably from the adrenaline.
My heart was in my chest. I had never been the one waiting at home before. I was the one charging in, saving the day. This whole time had been about forcing myself to breathe, to stay calm. I zoned in on the sight of the van door opening. Mac stepped out, and it felt like my whole world exhaled a sigh of relief. I covered the distance between us as quickly as I could without running. My eyes scanned every inch of him. He looked tired—no, beyond tired. Blood on his sleeve, dirty jeans, and his walls were up—his face hard, and almost unreadable. But he was home. Alive. For the moment, that was all I cared about.
He waited for me to get to him, and I threw my arms around him before he could even say a word. He didn’t resist, his arms coming around me and holding me in a way he never had before. Like he needed to know I was there. A drowning man, and I was his lighthouse.
“You’re okay,” I whispered, “you’re okay.”
I wasn’t sure who I was trying to convince. When I leaned back to look at him, I could see a million feelings in those blue eyes. But mostly I saw pain. Not the kind that would come from a right hook or stray bullet like I feared. No, this was the deep emotional pain that came from the soul. He definitely wasn’t okay.
Dalton climbed out of the van next, a stiffness to him that made his usual fluid movements almost jerky. His nose was broken, but other than that, he was fine. Physically. His jaw was locked, and when his eyes met mine, they were far away despite the small smile he tried and failed to give me.
“Dalton—” I reached for him but, to my surprise, he stepped back. Away from me.
“Not now, Vixen. I need a minute.”
I felt like a rughad been pulled from underneath me. He turned and headed back to the clubhouse, shoulders rigid. As he disappeared inside, Maria’s car pulled up and she ran out almost before it was parked. Diego caught her in his arms. There was tension in him, too.
Something was wrong. Not just mission-went-sideways wrong. Deeper. Really, really wrong. I turned back to Mac, questions on my lips, but he pulled away. Stepping around me, he raised his voice for everyone to hear and said, “I need to talk to everyone. Inside.”
I reached for him again. “Baby? What happened?” He looked down at me and, for a second, his mask fell away, and I saw the storm in those blue eyes. The grief. The betrayal. The pain.
Holly and Jackson came to stand next to me as I watched one of the men I loved head inside. The pair were hand in hand, but Holly reached for me, giving my hand a gentle squeeze before letting go. Maria and Diego were as close as two people could get and still walk in a straight line. We followed them inside, and found everyone in the garage heading into the kitchen. Pretty much every member of the club crammed into the room.
Dalton was nowhere to be seen, but Mac leaned against the counter, waiting for everyone to get situated. After the room quieted down, he looked up from the drink he was sipping. His eyes met mine before scanning the room.
You could’ve heard a pin drop when he finally said, “I know many of you were fond of my mother. Pretty much all of you, really. Which is why I feel you deserve to know the truth.” He paused, seeming to gather some inner strength. “Silas Greyson killed her. He gunned her down in the streets.”
I tried not to react, not visibly. I had never met the woman. Never seen the love she had for this club and everyone in it. Never got to witness the relationship she had with her sons. To me, she was a story. A cherishedmemory, wrapped in hurt. But for them, for Mac and Dalton, she had once been everything to them. I never looked away from him, barely registering the gasps and whispers and looks of horror. Maria started to cry, while Holly looked ready to burn everything to the ground.
Mac continued, “Silas had been planning to work with the DiAngelos before my dad died. My mother found out and, knowing she would expose him, he…” Mac swallowed, his eyes flicking to mine again and then away. “He said he pulled the trigger himself.”
Holly made a sound of strangled rage, and Jackson placed his hand on the back of her neck as if to calm her. Maria sank into Diego, who held her close. I watched Mac struggle to stay standing on the foundation of everything he thought he knew as it crumbled beneath him. I hadn’t liked Silas from the moment I met him. Now, I had never loathed a man more violently.
The room came alive with whispers, and Mac let it go on for a moment before saying, “There’s more. The ambush… the one that nearly killed me. That was Silas, too. He fed us the bad intel.”
Several of the guys stood up at that, and the whispers turned to shouts. I had a feeling that if Silas were to magically walk in right then, he wouldn’t last a second. And part of me wished he would.
One question sounded above the rest. “Why? Why would he do that?”
Mac took a sip of his drink, taking his time swallowing. “He said I was in the way. That I had to be sidelined so he could take over the club. And when he pulled me out, saved my life… he did it so I would owe him. So I would give him what he wanted—the club.”
