Steele: Into Your Heart (Carolina Bad Boys #3 (29 page)

Hitting the red line on my rage, I bit out between my teeth, “How the hell is that taking him unawares? Next time why don’t you just skywrite that shit? Or better yet, send up fireworks that say
Hey, Dirk! We’re coming to arrest your ass!
”

“Goddammit!” Pressing down on his walkie-talkie, Hunter snarled in a low voice, “I said go in soft and quiet, not with a fucking police parade.”

Fists balling. Heart pounding. I thought I might dry heave on the shoulder of the road. Every single second that passed felt like an hour with no word about Ashe coming across the wire.

I crouched down, balanced on the balls of my feet. Keeping my eyes on the forest in front of me, I held both my curled hands against my mouth, willing her to be okay. The baying of the dogs drifted away. The helicopters flew back the way they’d come.

Out of the silence Hunter’s walkie-talkie screeched with shouts from the SWAT team on the scene.

“Clear!”

“Clear.”

“Vic and perps not here.”

I leaped up and pushed Probie on the chest. “Wrong place,
muchacho
. Wanna try again?”

“I don’t know, Brodie. I’m sorry.” The blue and red lights now whirling on the cruisers illuminated his worried face.

I stalked back and forth a few paces before spinning to Hunter. “There was this place I overheard him talking about a few times. Pawn shop. Owned by one of his asshole pals. They used to play poker there.”

“Tell me more.” Hunter silenced his handheld.

“Yeah, this place on Rivers Avenue in North Chuck. Money Pit Pawn.” They had to be there, because if they weren’t I was all out of ideas.

Working a big paw into his dark hair, Hunter tugged it like he could force information to the forefront. Then slowly, he smiled. “Money Pit Pawn. I remember it from the paperwork. Owned by another fine example of a lousy lowlife.”

I stepped toward the SUV. “Let’s go.”

“Not so fast. We need to give the heads-up.”

“Fuck the heads-up. Your crew brought in barking dogs and goddamn choppers, how the hell is this circus supposed to be undercover? We can’t futz around with cop shit. They got caught with their pants around their ankles this morning when Dirk snatched Ashe, and they just did it again. Meanwhile, a psycho has my woman.”

Hunter stared at me without blinking for a full ten seconds before nodding. “No circus. Just us. But you
will
fucking listen to everything I say and obey every order I give, because this is about saving Ashe. Got it?”

“Done deal.”

“We need to go now while they’re still looking for leads in the cabin and surrounds.”

We sped out in the dark with the headlights off, reversing all the way down the dirt road. Hunter handled the SUV as he talked at me, but all I thought about was Ashe. It was well after midnight now. She was strong, but how long could she hold on? And what was Dirk doing to her?

On Rivers Avenue, Hunter parked down the block, diagonally across from the storefront. The Money Pit was dark, but then again in an area like this the windows could’ve been painted black from the inside. It wasn’t the nicest ’hood in North Charleston, not by a long shot. Teens loitered on corners. Homeless folks held up signs asking for money. Women who’d seen better days clacked on the pockmarked pavement in their hooker heels.

“Certainly looks like a motherfucking pit.” Boomer slid out of the SUV.

Hunter ranged toward a scrawny scruffy boy who looked more skin and bones than flesh and blood. “Hey, dude. You seen any action coming from that place tonight?”

Maybe it was because the four of us didn’t look one bit like we were part of a police sting operation—more like four scary MC outlaws—or maybe it was the precisely folded fifty dollar bill Hunter slipped the kid, but he squinted at the Money Pit and nodded.

“Closes at ten thirty on weekdays. Saw a car drive up an hour ago, ’round eleven o’clock? Looked like the guy was moving a rolled up carpet inside, know what I mean?”

I knew exactly what he meant. And it didn’t fucking bode well. I inhaled a sharp breath and felt for the Heckler stuck into the back of my pants.

“I got another fifty for you if you can get all these geezers away from the joint.” Hunter greased the kid’s palm.

The boy gave a lazy salute of two fingers before slipping the extra cash into his jeans. “BLAM! I am your genie in a forty-ounce bottle.”

“You realize you just contributed to the delinquency of a minor?” I watched the ratty-haired teen swagger off, corralling his homies and the streetwalkers.

“I’ll come back tomorrow night and cart his ass to social services.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re a hardass, Hunter.”

“Yep. And about to get harder. Here’s how it’s going down. Brodie, you’re with me. We go in through the front. Boomer and Cole, you’ve got the back entrance. I take it one of you knows how to B and E?”

When he was met with silence from Boomer and Probie, Hunter grinned. “That’s what I thought. I’ll be checking your records next.

“We move in total silence, hand signals only. You do not engage unless someone’s life is in danger. I’m the
only
one calling the shots, hear me? Because I’m the one who’s gonna take heat.”

“Got it.” Boomer, Probie and I agreed.

“Our goal is to incapacitate Dirk and Leta, and extricate Kingston. I’m alerting all units right now. Ambulance, SWAT, Fire, and the hospitals in the area.” Hunter flicked his gaze to me. “We’ll have five, possibly ten, minutes tops before they get here, and trust me, Brodie, you will want them here when we find her.”

I swallowed hard and repeated roughly, “Got it.”

A few minutes later, after making a solid recon of the building, Hunter got us through the front door. The alarm light started flashing immediately, but he quickly disabled it, prying off the cover on the box and cutting through several wires. It was dark and dim inside, the only light filtering in from the lampposts out on the street.

What I saw when shapes started to form in the murky light could only be called a hoarder’s delight. Junkyard garage sale shit everywhere. The Money Pit smelled of mold and filth.

Hunter motioned me to keep to his rear, and I stayed slightly off his left shoulder. We picked our way through old furniture, stereo equipment, dusty jewelry display cases, sweeping both sides of the room as we traveled toward the back.

Punching his fist to the air, Hunter halted me in my tracks. He squatted down, and only then did I see why. There was a body on the floor, directly in front of him. A woman, by the shape.

Time stopped. My
world
stopped. I fell beside her on my knees, assaulted by the sight of drying blood spreading from a gunshot to her chest. My gaze moved higher. I didn’t think I could contain the gasping breaths threatening to break free of my throat. My eyes swept up over her neck and finally . . .

“
Oh thank fuck
,” I whispered. It was Leta. I shifted back on my heels, scrubbing my hands down my face.
Thank fuck.
It was Leta, not Ashe.

Hunter checked her pulse, shook his head. We stood and started forward again.

Adrenaline hummed through my veins. I saw everything more clearly, heard every single noise. The creak of wood, the sound of our low breaths, our boots sliding along the floor.

If Dirk had killed Leta—a woman he’d supposedly liked—what the fuck had he done to Ashe?

We advanced faster to the back of store, swinging from left to right.

“You bitch.” Dirk’s voice. It came from somewhere in front of us. The muffled thud of flesh meeting flesh was the next sound heard.

We stopped with the being quiet shit and sprinted forward only halting when we came to a door that had to lead to a storeroom or office.

“On my count. Ready your weapon. Fire for his gun arm or the legs only if necessary,” Hunter whispered.

He held up his fingers.
Three. Two. One.

We busted inside to find Dirk grinning like a maniac over a broken and bleeding Ashe, his pistol in hand.

Hunter shouted into his walkie-talkie. “Officer down. Repeat, officer down! Last coordinates given.”

Dirk swung his gaze to me. “’Bout damn time. I mean, I held off killing her waitin’ for you to get here. Next time I’ll have to leave fuckin’ breadcrumbs or somethin’. Maybe do somethin’ serial killer-like mail you a few chopped off fingers.

“Drop the gun, Dirk.” The command came from Hunter.

I couldn’t take my eyes off Ashe. Her body was crumpled. There was blood on her face, matting her hair. I couldn’t tell if she was breathing. Terror clawed through my body.

“I like my gun. Had to use it on Leta, but I guess you already saw that. She kept mouthing off. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think Detective Kingston got to her. Had to shut that shit up.”

“You sick fuck!” I aimed my gun at Dirk’s chest.

“Brodie, you do not want to do that.” Stepping between Dirk and me, Hunter attempted to keep me away.

“Like hell I don’t.” I pushed him aside, intent on plugging a bullet right through Dirk’s chest.

“
Uh uh
. I agree with Hunter. Yeah, I’m onto you, Mr. Special Forces Fuckface.” Dirk trained his gun on Ashe’s head. “You keep moving forward, Brodie, and a bullet goes through her head. She’s still alive, ya know, even though she looks like crap, right?”

“What do you want?” I said with cold steel in my voice.

“A fifth of whiskey? An island named after me?” He shrugged. His greasy hair clung to his head. Dirt, sweat, and blood stained his flannel shirt. He remained where he was, slavering and slobbering over Ashe’s prone body. “I wanted to rough her up. So I did. I wanted to prove to her once and for all
I’m
the big man. I wanted to hurt you. Fucking golden boy with his perfect family.”

“You’re messed up. My folks died. There’s nothing golden about my life.”

“Boohoo, fuck you. Always lookin’ down on me. All of you think I’m stupid. Guess what? I ain’t. I run this city. I own the pussy in it. I deal the drugs from up on high. And I’m gonna stop this bitch from running her mouth and ruining my life ever again.”

I roared at him, my muscles straining as I stayed put.

“Drop the weapon.” Hunter’s voice lowered as he edged slightly closer.

Dirk cocked his gun, keeping it aimed at Ashe’s head.

“She has a fucking kid!” I snarled.

He merely smiled at me before grinding his boot against Ashe’s hand. “Wake up, Officer Cunt. You’re boyfriend’s here. I want you to watch his face when I kill you.”

“DROP THE FUCKING WEAPON!” Hunter shouted.

Dirk pulled back to kick Ashe, his face sickeningly happy. My muscles flexed, ready to pounce. The door behind Dirk opened silently. Boomer slipped through it, Probie directly behind him. Dirk let his kick fly, but before his boot made contact with Ashe’s body, the two men crashed into him.

With an almighty yell I charged forward. I landed on Dirk, bringing us all down in a tangle of arms and legs and live guns.

A bullet fired, whizzing past my ear.

I was aware of the chaos around me, but all I felt was rabid anger. Rolling Dirk away from the others, I slammed his gun hand to the floor over and over again. When the weapon clattered away, I dragged him up to me with one hand wrapped in his shirt. Then I pounded. Nose, cheek, chin, mouth, nothing stopped me. Not even the sickening crunch of his bones beneath my knuckles as he bleated. Not when he tried to cover his head with his arms to stop his skull from being cracked wide open by my punches. Not when his blood splattered my shirt and the sound of my rings bluntly echoed off exposed bone.

“I’ll kill you. I will fucking kill you!” The rage came from so deep inside nothing would ever stop me. I’d put him in his grave.

Voices battered against my ears:

“Ashe needs you, Brodie.”

“
Brodie.
”

“BRODIE! ASHE IS ALIVE. SHE NEEDS YOU NOW!” Boomer hoisted me off the piece of shit whose face was now a meaty pulpy mess.

My chest heaved as I scrambled away from Boomer. At Ashe’s side, I shoved down the hatred about to swallow me whole. I touched her as gently as possible, resting my fingers against her un-swollen cheek. Containing everything inside—the violence, the raw anger, the fear—I skimmed a hand down her neck so I could feel her pulse beating against my skin.

“I love you, Ashe. I need you. Cara needs you. You’re a fighter. Fight for us now.” I curled over her body. She was so pale. Bruised all over. Too still. “I’m sorry it took me so long to find you.”

The EMT kneeling on the other side of Ashe touched my wrist. “Sir, you have to move.”

I shook my head.

“Sir, you have to move, now!”

The whole scene exploded in an instant. Boomer moved me out of the way so they could work on Ashe. I only caught snippets as the EMTs took stock of her injuries:

“Blunt force trauma to the head.”