28. Ares

28

ARES

" Y ou know it's a trap, right?" Patrick asked, leaning back in his chair. His feet were resting on the table as he balanced himself on the back two legs.

Secretly, Ares wished the legs would break off the chair, and the pretty little psychopath would fall flat on his rock-solid ass. No, Ares was not jealous of the man's eight-pack, youthful good looks, or the bulge currently filling out the man's jeans.

Fuck, when did he get so old?

Now, Ares had a one-pack, the sexual stamina of a man in his mid-forties, and aches in his body whenever he stood up too fast. On the plus side, he still had a big dick. At least, that was one thing that could never be taken away from him.

Ares began to pace the tiny apartment he and Elijah used as a safe house in Toulouse, located in the southern part of France.

It was always helpful to have a few of these safehouses scattered across the globe in case he or any of his crew members ever needed a place to lie low or conduct their business. Today, they were conducting business—gathering intelligence and making rescue and murder plans.

"Of course I know it's a fuckin' trap. No kidnapper ever makes it this easy to find someone. They may as well have just shot a beam up into the night sky that said, ‘Hey! He's over here!'" Ares gave the cocky Irish prick a dirty look. He had been dealing with criminals since Paddy could barely walk.

Elijah had reached out to a few of his contacts in neighboring countries, asking if there was any word on a team hired for a high-priority capture. It didn't take long before whispers of names and travel routes were pouring in. Elijah and Ares immediately knew that something was up. This level of information was never so easily found, especially within such a short time frame. No. Someone wanted them to know. Someone wanted them to come and find them.

"Okay, so how do you want to handle this?" Mickey asked, standing next to Elijah and Chase.

"Well, I'll go in pretending to be alone. Then when they grab me, you assholes come in and shoot up the place." Ares's plan was simple and to the point. "In fifteen minutes, everyone should be dead, except for us, of course. Then we all go grab something to eat."

See? Nice and simple.

"Oh… kayyy… Well, I was thinking of something with a little more… flare ," the man wearing black eyeliner and a mesh top added.

"And who are you again?" Ares asked, not recognizing the gothic young man. In addition to the sinful shirt, he also wore tight leather pants and a spiked collar around his neck. Oh , and black lipstick.

Throwing his arm around the sexy young siren, Patrick's smile nearly swallowed his head. "This here is Sky. My husband. The only man as sexy and dangerous as me." He leaned over and gave his husband a kiss on the cheek.

It was weird seeing Patrick being so… lovey. Usually, he was all badass and… death.

"Well, I have to congratulate you, young man. You, apparently, have the biggest balls in this place if you're willing to get naked with this man." Ares shoved his thumb toward Satan's guard dog, who had apparently found his "forever person." "I'd be too worried he'd wear my skin as a coat while I slept," Ares noted, shifting a suspicious eye toward Patrick.

Patrick's husband smiled. "It's a burden I'm happy to bear."

"So, let's hear this plan," Patrick said, wrapping his muscular arms around his smiling husband.

While Sky outlined his much more entertaining plan of attack, Ares finished double-checking their weapons with Elijah. The two sat in silence, double-checking cartridges and adding weapons to their bags.

It was Elijah who finally broke the silence. "Hey, boss. This whole thing with you and Matteo, I think you're both being dumb."

That was not what Ares was expecting the covert ops killer to say.

"I mean, you're both spending all this time pretending to hate each other when it's clear that you both still have feelings for one another."

"I never said I hated him." Ares gave his friend a sarcastic smile.

"No, but you refuse to tell him how you really feel about him."

Ares glanced over at the others. Isaac was sitting in Jared's lap with Jared's arms wrapped possessively around his body. Jared's chin rested gently on Isaac's shoulder as he listened to his boyfriend chat up a storm. Next to them, Levi was leaning against Chase. Another inseparable couple.

Then there was Patrick—the scariest one of all. Even he had found his "special person." The two sat on their own, but Ares couldn't help but notice the way their knees still subtly touched. It was barely noticeable, but the connection was still there.

Going around the room, Ares took note of all the couples happily interacting with one another. They may have all come from different backgrounds and suffered through various traumas, but here they were, together, all of them willing to fight for one another.

It gave Ares hope.

"I think Matteo is well aware now of my feelings. I wasn't exactly subtle about them these past few days."

Elijah smiled.

"Good. I expect to be your best man at your wedding."

Ares chuckled. "I have to get the man to speak with me first. He wasn't too thrilled when he found out about the security cameras, the motion sensors, or the tunnel that runs from his cabin to mine."

"Why? Nothing says, ‘I love you' like possessive lover vibes."

"Ain't that the truth," Skyler added from where he was sharpening a knife with a stone next to his husband.

The room filled with laughter.

Six hours later, they were in Sicily crouched behind a row of oil drums, trying to remain unseen by the dozens of men carrying assault rifles and machetes. They were all busy corralling their latest shipment of merchandise out of their pens and into the dozen or so minivans.

Ares immediately recognized the activity. They had inadvertently stumbled upon a human trafficking ring right in the middle of its arrival and transportation phase.

They all watched as people were collected and placed in large holding pens as if they were nothing more than cattle awaiting transport. Women cried, children clung to their mothers, while men struggled against their captors. But in the end, they were all unprepared for the nightmare they had somehow stumbled into.

"What the heck's going on?" one of Matteo's boys whispered from someplace behind Ares. Ares didn't bother wasting time explaining.

Off to the left, another van containing eight people slammed its doors shut, then began to drive off.

They couldn't let the assholes get away with this. They needed to help these people. But Ares also needed to rescue Matteo. Damn it!

It was at that moment that Ares was glad he had so many people willing to help rescue Matteo—even if some of their special skills involved dick swallowing and spinning around on poles. Hey, perhaps they could be useful as a distraction or an extra set of hands when it came to busting in some kneecaps.

He could see the headlines now: "Coven of strippers take down Italian trafficking ring."

"We got to stop this," Skyler whispered, crouching down next to Ares.

Ares agreed.

They watched as yet another group of men and women were loaded into a van.

Ares looked over at Elijah and Patrick, who were already loading their guns. They still needed the element of surprise. If they started shooting up the place right now, who knows what Matteo's captors might do to him inside?

"Elijah, split up the squad. Follow those vans and do what you need to do to rescue those people."

At least Ares's squad was a team of trained killers and expert marksmen. They should be able to neutralize the situation without many causalities on their side. Hopefully, none of the people getting trafficked got hurt in the process. But realistically speaking, that was highly unlikely.

Turning to his other friend, "Patrick, you take your guys and the strippers guild and go help the rest of those people still being held in those pens." He nodded over his shoulder at the large boxed-off area, currently holding primarily women and children at this point.

If Ares had to venture a guess, the traffickers had probably separated the men from their families to create panic and uncertainty. Women were easier to control when they had no idea where their husbands were being held. Fear was a powerful tool.

There appeared to be approximately eight different vans being loaded on various sides of the facility. If Patrick's team focused on saving the people being loaded into the vans, Ares could sneak into the facility and rescue Matteo on his own.

"Jared, Diesel, you guys think you can give me a hand taking down those guys?" Patrick asked, pointing toward a group of men taking inventory of people before loading them into a van.

"We might take our clothes off for a living, but I served in the British army for three years before joining La Maison , and Diesel here has spent enough time on the streets to know how to fuck up a dude. So, this strippers guild's got your back," Jared asserted, giving Ares a dirty look.

Ares didn't have time to worry about hurt feelings and "safe spaces." There were too many people to kill and one sexy-ass Italian to save.

"Isaac and I are good with distractions—you know, in case you need someone to shake their ass in front of the scary men with guns… or… something," Levi offered, eyes darting between Patrick and Ares.

Ares let out a groan. He glanced over at Elijah and his team of trained killers. Thank fuck he had some decent muscle behind him on this mission.

"Duly noted," Patrick entertained.

Next to Patrick, the strippers guild smiled in unison. This was the third time these guys were being sent out on missions to rescue their loved ones. Pretty soon, Matteo was going to have to start paying them as security personnel as well, given the number of times they were putting their lives at risk.

But wasn't this what family did for one another?

Looking around at the temporary crew Ares had put together for this job, he realized that while they might all come from different backgrounds and corners of the world, they were all there for him and Matteo.

Their family.

They weren't here out of a sense of obligation or because they were being paid… well, Ares's team of trained commandos were being paid… but still, most would be here helping him, even if they weren't.

"What about M?" Levi asked, always concerned about his surrogate father and mentor's well-being.

"Don't worry. I got him," Ares answered, pulling out a gun from his coat pocket and cocking it with a smirk.

"Wh-what should I do?" a quivering, meek voice asked over Levi's shoulder.

Ares glanced over at the now-familiar voice. It was Jorge. The treacherous little traitor had insisted that he come on this rescue mission. Ares wasn't quite sure if the little shit wanted to come as a way of redeeming himself or if perhaps the little fucker planned on betraying them once again.

To be honest, Ares didn't care. The second the Spanish bastard tried to betray them again, the kid would get a bullet between the eyes.

That thought made Ares smile.

"You can come with Isaac and me. We'll show these muscleheads how the strippers guild takes names and leaves bodies," Levi announced, wrapping his arm around his new best friend—because, apparently, this was how people made friends in their inner circle.

God, he was too old to be babysitting twenty-somethings.

"Everyone good?" Ares asked, glancing around at the band of unlikely friends.

His team was about as diverse as you could get. It had military-grade trained commandos, a guy who liked to torture people, his gothic husband, an ex-police officer, and of course, a team of mid-twenty-year-old strippers who ranged from beefy muscle jocks to slim and pretty twinks. Oh, yeah, and one deceitful little prick.

Yes, the criminal underworld should fear Ares and his band of murderous killers.

Giving them all the signal—a growly nod of his head—the groups split off, each making for their assigned areas.