Reign of Wrath (Dirty Broken Savages #3)(39)

Fuck.

Did we miscalculate? Did our chess pieces not line up right?

Something should have happened by now, and I feel the anxious restlessness like tingles under my skin as I stand there.

Next to me, Knox is tapping his foot and cracking his knuckles. A sure sign that he’s getting antsy too. We can’t let Cyrus leave the club tonight. For this plan to work, he needs to die, and we all know that.

Knox’s hand twitches, and I can imagine he’s thinking about doing it himself. Would Gage let him? His point about us needing to be clean on this still stands, but we can’t let Cyrus get away.

It’s not an ideal situation, and the longer we sit there with nothing happening, the more the tension ratchets up.

Over by the door of the club, there’s a small commotion, and that catches my attention for a second. People start to part like the Red Sea, getting out of the way of a group of men who come striding into the club on a mission.

I recognize the one at the front as Apollo, and a feeling of relief washes over me. Thank fuck.

They move fast through the throngs of people, making a beeline for the VIP area and Cyrus.

Cyrus’s guard is way the hell down. He’s got his head tipped back against the booth, and his dick in a woman’s mouth. He doesn’t see it coming, and even his bodyguards are too slow.

They got too complacent, and it’s all Apollo needs.

He walks right up to the roped off area, pulls out his gun, and shoots Cyrus right in the head.





14





Gage





Chaos erupts at the end of that gunshot.

The woman who was sucking Cyrus off screams, a high, terrified sound, and she jerks back and scrambles away from the now dead man. There are flecks of his blood in her blonde hair, and dotting her bare shoulders, and she looks horrified.

Cyrus’s guards finally snap to action, yelling and pulling their own weapons to fire on Apollo and his crew. Apollo’s men fire back.

It only takes a few gunshots before people start to realize something is going down. They start running from the bar and the dance floor, crowding and stampeding as they flee toward the exits.

People are running and screaming, trying to get out, and it’s a mess. A mess we need to slip out in.

I don’t wait to see if Apollo lives or dies in the fight, or even what else goes down here. The part we needed to happen—Cyrus getting killed—is done. Nothing else really matters.

“That’s our cue,” I tell the guys, raising my voice just enough to be heard over the screaming and the music. I grab River’s arm and drag her away from the bar, shoving my way through the crowd so we can get to the doors.

Knox and Priest take up on either side, and Ash guards our back. The five of us move like a unit, shuffling people out of our way so we can get through the crush of people faster.

Now that we know Cyrus is dead, I just want to get River out of here in one piece.

It takes a bit, but we make it through the chaos and out of the club. It’s immediately quieter, and I can hear myself think again. But there’s no time to stand around enjoying the night air.

We hustle down to the parking garage and get into the car, driving off.

I’m back in the driver’s seat, and everyone’s quiet as I take us away from the club. I can feel some of the tension finally bleeding out of my shoulders, and that’s echoed by the tension leaving the car as I drive. We’re all less tightly wound than we were before, now that we know the plan worked.

I let out a slow, controlled breath, and glance into the rearview mirror to get a glimpse of River.

She’s in her usual spot, between Ash and Knox in the back, and I can’t quite read her face. All I can hope is that this put her in a better place than she was before and not a worse one. There was a lot of shooting and death, and I can imagine that made her think of her sister being shot. But I hope this helps her see that we can actually achieve our goal and tear Julian down. We’re one step closer now, and we can all feel that.

The drive back to the house feels shorter than the drive to the club, and we’re all relieved to walk back inside in one piece when we get there. No mishaps, no tragedies tonight.

Dog greets us by barking and leaping around our feet like he can tell that we were victorious tonight.

“Aww, you’re happy people died tonight, aren’t you?” Ash says, scratching the dog under the chin and rubbing his ears. “You’re a little murder happy beast, huh? Aren’t you, Manson?”

“After the serial killer? Really?” River says, shaking her head. She pats the dog on the head, and I roll my eyes.

The animal really needs a real name and a fucking collar, since it’s obvious he’s not going anywhere now. He’s been here as long as River has, and since we don’t plan to be done with her any time soon, I guess the same goes for the dog.

But the thought is fleeting as I focus on River again.

She stands up and looks at me, and I take a step closer to her.

“Are you alright?” I ask. It’s the question I’ve been wanting to ask her since we got back into the car after the club, but it seemed better to wait until we were home to actually ask it.

River looks at me strangely, something obviously going on in her head. There’s a second where I wonder if she’s going to say anything, and then she smiles.