Chapter Twenty-Five

He’d been moved twice and Creed knew it was a tactical move.

They planned on either killing him outright or arranging so it looked like he was killed in jail. Walking down the stone steps of the police station, he found himself in another section of the jail. He was pretty sure the records wouldn’t show him being at this particular spot. It looked like they’d moved a shit ton of prisoners in the same large cell at the back of the room and it was toward that door that Creed was shoved.

A cop stepped forward and uncuffed his hands.

“I want my phone call.”

“Shut the fuck up,” the cop said in an ugly tone and opened the cage door.

Creed was shoved, but he didn’t move…the guy didn’t have the muscle he did.

“You really think you’re working for the good guys?” he sneered at the cop.

The guy laughed. “My bank account thinks so. Now get in or I’ll fucking shoot you in the leg and claim you tried to escape.”

He almost rolled his eyes and wished the fucker would pull his gun because if he did, then Creed would take it from him and use it to put a bullet in the man’s stomach so he’d bleed out real slow like. The crooked cop seemed to understand that because the gun stayed tucked away and the man suddenly put a bit more distance between them.

“Get inside,” the cop said again.

This time, Creed entered the area and the door clanged shut.

Keys rattled in the lock and the cop pulled and banged his night stick on the bars.

“Don’t feel like you need to play nice, boys, we won’t be back tonight,” the cop said and left with the six other cops that had accompanied Creed downstairs.

Creed put his back to the cage door and swept his eyes around the room when several of the prisoners, big and small, got to their feet.

If at all possible, he wouldn’t kill any of them.

But he couldn’t make any promises.

Just around midnight, Stone found his big badass cousin sitting in a jail cell on a metal bench with his head resting back against the concrete wall.

He had to grit his teeth to stop the sound of rage that threatened to escape.

Four cops escorted Stone and two other men, and when they reached the jail cell, they unlocked the cage.

Walking through the cell’s doors, Stone stood for a moment along with two men at his side as the jail cell was locked and the cops beat a hasty retreat up the stairs, shutting the outer door.

After a moment of assessing the situation, Stone made his way through the mass of sprawled bodies. Some of them were bloodied and bruised, sporting broken faces and limbs, some were unharmed and huddled in corners and against the far wall.

Stone crouched next to Creed’s legs and placed a gentle hand on his cousin’s knee. The man tensed, eyes snapped open, and then focused on him in a daze.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Creed asked through bloodied lips, his bruised face almost unrecognizable.

“You didn’t think we were going to let this party happen without us, did you?”

“Us?” Creed whispered and Stone gave a very tiny tilt of his head.

Creed focused his one good eye over Stone’s shoulder and found Wrath’s gaze first and then moved his head to see whom else.

One of his best friends in the whole fucking world stepped forward.

Fisher wasn’t smiling. He found nothing about this situation funny in the least. He swallowed and clenched his fists. They’d beat Creed so badly, Fisher almost didn’t recognize his friend. Rage settled low and deep and he moved to take up a position at Creed’s side.

They had come just the three of them, and had led the guards to believe they could easily be bought to do their bidding for the right price.

They came without weapons so the cops had laughed and agreed.

They were so fucking wrong. Wrath, Fisher, and Stone didn’t need weapons.

They were weapons.

Something tight finally eased inside of Creed with his brothers at his side.

“Did you call Dave?” Creed whispered through his clenched teeth because it hurt too much to move his jaw.

“Yes,” Stone said softly so the other prisoners in the cell wouldn’t hear. “You just need to hang in there.”

“I didn’t think I was going to make it out of here,” Creed mumbled.

“I’m pretty sure a few of them won’t,” Fisher said in a flat and deadly tone of voice.

“Dave, what’s up?” Ace gripped the cell phone in his hand.

“Tell me you got the call to have Creed released?”

“Yeah, it just came in, but,” Ace let out a deep breath, hesitated, and then growled. “Shit. Stone, Wrath, and Fisher let themselves be arrested.”

“What did you say?” Dave said extremely quiet and even though the words were soft, Ace heard the bottled rage in them.

“They went inside,” Ace repeated and released a slow breath. “What I didn’t find out until a few minutes ago is that Police Chief Harvey Dennison was drugged last night, he’s in the hospital.”

“Fuck.”

Ace was momentarily stunned into silence. He’d never heard Dave drop the F bomb before.

“Harvey should be released in the morning,” Ace said. “But right now, we’ve got some jackass taking over.”

“And?” Dave asked through his teeth.

“They moved Creed somewhere we don’t know of. That’s why Stone, Wrath, and Fisher went inside.”

“Do you know if they’ve found Creed yet?” Dave asked after a long, heavy silence.

“I don’t know. I can’t get any cooperation from the guy running Ventura PD at the moment. I’m assuming the guy works for Senator Garner.”

“I already put a call into the President. He’s having the current Secretary of Defense call your mayor. I’ll let him know that there are four that need to be located and released,” Dave growled.

“Thanks, Dave.”

Dave grunted and ended the call.

Dave stood gripping his phone like a vise and then he made a snarling sound and flung his cell across the room where it clattered to the floor with a crack. He turned on the silent man in the wide chair in front of his desk.

“You need to get a handle on Erebus or I’ll have them disbanded,” he snapped.

Solomon smirked. “It’s Stone. I can’t control him.”

“He’s not even part of them,” Dave raged and paced, pulling at his hair.

Solomon shook his head. “No, he’s not, but Creed is his cousin and Fisher and Wrath are his best friends. How in the hell could I let Stone do that alone? Did you want him going in there by himself?”

“No,” Dave hissed with frustration. “I didn’t want him going in at all!”

“Look… you can’t keep him in a bubble. That’s his kin. You had to have known deep down that Stone would do something like this.”

“Are they planning a jail break?” Dave’s voice cracked.

“I have no idea.”

“Fuck!” His hands were clammy and he grabbed a crystal glass from his desk and filled it halfway with the bottle of whiskey nearby. He drank a few gulps and then sank into the chair at his desk.

“They’ll be okay. Just remember who and what they are,” Solomon said, his voice trying to comfort.

Dave stared with burning eyes at his friend. “I’m getting too old for this shit.”

Wrath and Fisher turned on the rest of the people in the jail cell. Most of them backed the fuck up, but some of the braver ones who thought they were the shit didn’t bat an eye.

“What?” a tattoo riddled fuck twat with a bloodied nose said to Fisher and puffed up.

Fisher didn’t even blink nor hesitate. He flew across the distance between them and hit the guy in the throat. The blow was just shy of rupturing the man’s windpipe, but it dropped the big fucker to his knees. Clutching his throat with both hands, the man stared at Fisher in stunned surprise before he toppled sideways.

Fisher ran his dead, dark gaze over the rest of the room. “Anyone else?”

The rest who thought to back up the guy on the floor raised their hands and backed away, murmuring amongst themselves.

Wrath snickered.

“What?” Fisher asked, turning with a smirk.

“You remind me of someone.”

“Who?”

“My youngest brother.”

Fisher walked over and gestured to the men sitting on the same bench as Creed.

“Get moving,” Fisher said flatly and they did. They scrambled up and out of his way even though most of the men in the cage outweighed and stood taller than him by a good bit.

None of them were taking any chances. The big fucker on the floor still hadn’t recovered. Some of the smaller guys stayed close, sensing that protection was near from the others. Fisher didn’t mind it; he knew what it was like to be picked on. He’d been in their shoes when he’d been a teenager.

Taking a seat next to Creed, he reached out and gently lifted his friend’s closest hand and studied the broken fingers. “We should probably set these,” Fisher murmured.

Creed gave him a smile. “Go ahead. Stone won’t do it.” His friend gestured to Stone, who had taken a seat on the other side of Creed.

“No, I can’t either,” Fisher admitted. He’d kill anyone who came near Creed right now, but he couldn’t administer pain to his best friend. He turned his gaze to Wrath.

The man’s face was expressionless and he stepped forward and lifted Creed’s hand. “You trust me? I’m a former Navy Seal and medic.”

Creed gave the good-looking assassin a slow nod. With his blond hair and blue eyes, Wrath reminded him of Ice. “Do your best.”

“Tell me how many it took to get you in this state,” Wrath said, running his fingers over Creed’s hand and then fingers. They were numb already so he really didn’t feel a thing.

“Thirteen, I think?” He furrowed his brow, trying to remember. “Maybe fourt—”

Wrath cracked his fingers one by one so fast that Creed had only enough time to suck in a breath of agony. Stone clamped a hand around his shoulders to keep him from jerking away.

Breathing through his nose, Creed fought down the bile threatening to rise. Wrath smoothed his fingers gently over Creed’s while Fisher tore a piece of his own jailhouse shirt for Wrath to gently wrap his hand.

“Tonight, you sleep,” Stone whispered and Creed nodded.

He fucking needed to close his eyes so badly.

“In fact, do it now,” Fisher murmured and rubbed at the back of Creed’s neck.

Wrath turned and faced the room and everyone in it glanced away.