Consumed (Blood Ties Book 9)

Consumed: Chapter 43



The sound of the Mustang’s growl grew closer, pulling me away from the conversation in front of me.

“T,” Laz muttered. “Are you with me, brother?”

I jerked my gaze to his, finding pain in his blue eyes. “All the way.”

“Because I need you.” He stepped closer.

Freddy stood at the back of the room next to Caleb. On the wall, movement came on the black and white monitor. Tiny arms and legs kicked, pushing the blanket from his body for the tenth time. My son, Alias Banks, occupied as much of my attention as his mom did.

“I know.” I turned back to my best friend, my brother-in-arms. The man I’d die to protect…and who’d die for me. “As we need you.”

Car doors slammed closed outside. My body came alive just with the thought of her, her sad eyes and perfect lips. Christ, those sundresses she’d been wearing lately sent me wild. I wanted under them, my hands sliding up her thighs and between her legs.

“Tobias.”

I pulled my attention back to the head of the Stidda Mafia in front of me, knowing full well if I was any other male, I’d have been shot in the head by now. Fuck, that woman was going to get me into trouble…even deeper than I was in now.

“You take out the guards. I need Nick on the wheel,” Laz urged.

“That wasn’t the deal.” I shook my head. “You get me…and only me.”

But this Laz shook his head. This Laz demanded more. No, he demanded everything.

“I need you beside me, to be my right-hand man taking over the company. I need you hungry, T. I need you so fucking hungry even the Salvatores are scared.”

“They are already.” My voice deepened as savage rage rippled inside me. I lifted my gaze to his, finding that same spark of anger. “Everyone is.”

Laz stepped closer as her footsteps rang out from the foyer and headed along the hall toward me. This was the price we paid to keep her safe—the monitor hovered in the corner of my eye—the price I paid to keep everyone safe. “I can drive the cars, Laz.”

He shook his head as she stepped into the room, and it took all my fucking willpower not to go to her.

“With the Banks brothers at my side, we’ll be unstoppable. Not only will we end this fucking Order, we’ll make sure that no one touches us again. This is what I need, Nick.” He glanced at my brother as he followed her inside.

His hair was dishevelled and there was a leaf stuck to Ryth’s dress. Looks like they’d had fun. A little too much fun.

“Tobias,” Ryth murmured my name before she glanced at Laz. “What’s going on?”

Laz shook his head, but he didn’t look at her. He knew exactly what he was asking, because he asked the same thing of himself.

“You get me, Laz. That was the deal. You get me because if anything happened, if this all went wrong…” She’d still have protection.

“We need Nick,” Laz pushed. “He’s the best wheelman I know. He’s faster, more agile. Hell, he can drive almost anything.”

“I can,” Nick answered. “And yet you’re talking about me like I’m not in the room.”

“The intel is solid,” Laz said. “We know which gang worked for Hale, so we take them out. The only MC gangs that will be left in the city will be the ones loyal to us.”

“Can you be sure about that?” Nick stepped forward, cutting across the room to stand next to me. “Sure enough to risk our lives?”

I resisted the urge to look at Ryth, knowing she must be recoiling inside. That USB her father gave her was more than just a who’s who in the depraved world of The Order. It also had details in Lazarus’ world that couldn’t be ignored. A world that was now becoming ours.

“Aldolfo Martinez is a goddamn snake. His MC is done and his time is done. The moment he gave his allegiance to Hale was the day he sealed his fate. If you think I’m going to mourn his loss, you’re very much mistaken.”

“Mourn?” I murmured. “No. But we cut off one head and three more fill its place. We need to make sure who they are and how bad they want retribution.”

“We make it so they don’t come looking. We make it so they don’t think about retribution at all. We kill the fuckers. Those…slimy fucks who think riding their goddamn bikes and spewing their shit is going to save them. Tonight, they’ll find out no one will save them. We burn their clubhouse to the ground…with them inside.”

“So why do you need me?” Nick asked.

“It’s a three-pronged attack. You take out the Master of Arms. We take the clubhouse. Freddy and Alvarez Cross and his brothers wait in the wings to exterminate. We get this done and we make a statement.”

“That’s a pretty clear statement,” Nick murmured.

“Anyone who doesn’t stand with us is against us,” Laz ended. “The only question now, brothers, is…are you with me?”

“NICK, how are you doing? Are you in position?”

“Five more seconds.” Nick’s voice barely smothered the growl of his untraceable Mustang. “I have the bastard in my sights.”

We sat in a four-wheel drive in a parking lot across from the LionsDenz MC Club under a shroud of darkness. It was late…or early, depending on how you looked at it. I just wanted this to be done, so I could be home. “You tell me who I need to kill and they’re as good as dead.”

The Mustang’s engine roared in the background of the call. If we thought this was going to be easy, it wasn’t. The Master of Arms of the LionsDenz wasn’t just a nobody. He was the son of Marcus Diaz, head of the small but brutal Mafia seat in the south.

Marcus had a reputation of cutting off hands when it came to those who took form him, running a gambling operation that was worth hundreds of millions. He was mostly quiet and kept to himself. But after tonight, that was about to change.

I yanked open the car door and climbed out.

“One minute.” Nick grunted. I could hear the squeak of the window as he rolled it down.

To make a hit out in the open was brazen as fuck, but for who it was…it was goddamn suicidal.

“Mask,” I snarled.

“Already down, brother.”

I could hear it as I made for the edge of the building, the rush of the air, the muffled tone. I tucked the gun in the waistband of my jeans and made for the rear of the building. The music was still blaring, the fight that broke out when we got there was all over. Pity. I would’ve enjoyed the look on their faces when I walked in, took aim, and fired.

The screech of the tires came from my cell, I turned the volume down, listening to the roar of the wind before CRACK! CRACKCRACKCRACK!

My brother’s hard breaths filled the speaker. “It’s done,” he muttered. “Jesus fucking Christ, it’s done.”

They were the only words I needed. “Talk soon, brother,” I said quietly, then pressed the button and ended the call.

Get it done.

Just do what it takes and get it done.

In my head I saw the back of Ben’s head…bloodied, and brain fucking exploded.

I grabbed the fence at the rear of the compound and lifted myself higher, climbing fast until I reached the razor wire, then grabbed the cutters in my pocket. Two seconds. I watched the rear door of the club, hating it took me that long.

Snip.

I was over, heaving my legs until momentum took me and I hit the ground with a thud. My steps were fast and quiet as I pulled the gun free and opened the rear door. I was lead on this but not because I had something to prove, because Laz and Freddy wanted them running, right before we killed them all.

Cheers and laughter filled the air. I glanced right and left, leaving the kitchen alone to head for the bedrooms. Aldolfo Martinez was a fat, ugly fuck. One who liked them young…very goddamn young. Young enough to be a present from Hale himself, fresh from The Order.

There were four doors, three along the hall on the right, and one at the end that was cracked open. Moans came from that slip of darkness…and they didn’t sound pleasurable in the least.

“Suck…it.” Came the snarl.

A cry followed, soft, short, coming from someone who knew crying got you nowhere. I grabbed the handle, my focus on the thud of steps deeper in the club heading away as I pushed the door open and stepped inside.

The sick fuck was on the edge of the bed, naked, with his gut almost on his thighs. He had a fistful of her hair, shaking it until he made her dance. Christ, there were bruises all over her. Big, thick ones…the size of a goddamn fist.

All I saw was Ryth.

Ryth, bruised and beaten.

Ryth naked like they wanted.

“She can’t suck what she can’t find you fat, ugly, fuck,” I muttered, as I lifted the gun and fired.

CRACK!

His head snapped backwards before the rest of him fell. I swung around as she fell, crumpled into a ball, and curled herself tight. “You might want to get yourself out of here. This place is about to go up in flames.”

But she didn’t move. Not even when I headed for the door. I stopped in the doorway and looked back. “Did you hear me?”

She never moved, just curled her knees tighter to her chest.

“Fuck.” I spun around, searching the room…there was nothing…nothing.

Until I lunged for the bed, grabbed that ugly ass motherfucker, and heaved him upwards. The thud of boots sounded. Faint cries of “turn the music down! I heard a gunshot.” followed.

I pushed and heaved, wrenching my focus to her dark eyes. “You want to live? Then…help…me.”

That seemed to work, she slowly shoved upwards as I rolled Adolfo onto his front and kept pushing. She grabbed him from the other side, yanking him toward her until he fell from the bed and hit the floor. One yank and I ripped the sheet free. “Put that on.”

It was bloodstained and filthy, but she wrapped it around herself as someone called out. “Alfie! You okay in there?”

I moved fast, yanked open the door, and lifted the gun at the same time. “Just fucking peachy I’d say.”

Crack.

Crack!

CRACK!

Screams erupted as they went down. One asshole charged me, grabbed me around the waist, and drove me against the wall. All that did was trigger something dangerous inside me, something I tried to hide from the world…

The real me.

I drove my fist upwards and connected with his jaw. Crunch. His head snapped backwards, and I was moving, firing the gun, feeling the rush as it kicked in my hand. I lost count of how many I killed…I lost count of it all. They ran like I knew they would, hurling themselves out of the front of the building where Laz and Freddy waited.

She tore past me, the bloodied sheet flapping wildly asd sheb tripped and fell.

“Stop!” I lunged and grabbed her, my fingers almost slipping from her arm as I lifted her from the floor and turned away. “You don’t want to go out there.”

Crack, crack, crack, crackcrackcrack. Gunfire followed. The young woman kicked and bucked, fighting me as I turned around and grabbed a bottle of Scotch on the counter, lifted it high, and slammed it down.

Crash.

I found another.

And another, until the floor glistened with the fluid before I reached into my pocket…pulled out a lighter, and flicked it. Then she stopped fighting, turning her tear-filled eyes toward mine.

“For Ben.” I murmured and tossed it high, until it landed on its side.

The bar erupted in a whoosh. But I was already moving, heading out the back door…desperate to be home.

The growl of the engine kicked and spluttered. Nick was already waiting, with the chain on the gate now cut.

“Who’s this?” He jerked his gaze her way.

She gripped my waist. “Have no fucking idea.”

“She a whore?”

“No,” she whispered as I half-carried her through the gate. “I’m not a whore…I’m a Daughter.”

He stared at her as the sound of shattering glass came from the clubhouse behind us. His eyes widened. “What the fuck are we going to do with a Daughter?”

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“We call London,” I answered and hurried her toward the car. “He’ll know exactly what to do.”


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