Chapter 38

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Noble

I don't know what to make of the scene Gunner and I walk in on.

Bless sits on one of the club chairs. It's a hell of a time for her to be taking a break, but she is fucking covered in blood. Maybe she got the party started a little earlier than the rest of us.

She's got a bloody knife in one hand and a Glock in the other.

There are two dead older women and an older man slumped around the room. Two men sit side by side on a small, uncomfortable-as-fuck-looking sofa, glaring at Bless like they can melt her skin if they try hard enough.

My head tilts. "Did you run out of ammo or…"

"No," Bless says as blood drips from her knife onto the pants of the suit she's wearing. She lost the jacket somewhere, and the white undershirt is stained red.

"Okay, cool, just checking." My head bobs a little like a chicken.

Maverick pops up in the comm feed, asking for information about what he's supposed to do with Bianca Manzo.

There's chatter that I mostly tune out.

Bless tilts her head, looking at me over her shoulder. "Someone should let Locke know I've got his biological father here whenever he's ready for him."

"You fucking bitch," the man on the right growls.

"You killed your own mother." The one on the left looks at the blood on his hands a little like he's in shock. "My wife."

"And your aunt," the guy on the right snarls.

"I'd say they got what was coming to them," Bless says, shrugging. "A true mother protects her daughter. She doesn't cover for her son or lie to child services about the terrible shit she knows he did. Honestly, they got off easy in comparison to what I had planned."

My eyes widen.

Oh, yeah, she's got a lot of rage.

And I can't say I blame her.

"Would you like to hear about how Braxton died?" she asks the man on the left. I'm guessing that one is her father, and the one on the right is Locke's dad. "I can give you details of all the ways he suffered. I'm sorry to have to inform you, but dying wasn't an easy process for your favorite child."

"Noble," Gunner growls, aiming down the hallway.

I move until we're back-to-back, facing opposite ends of the corridor.

It only takes a second for movement to come my way. Grabbing my gun, I take out the guy running in my direction. His gun goes flying as two more men follow behind him.

Huh.

We could probably just camp here and take out a whole shitload of people. Although, their corpses would eventually pile up and block the walkway.

Maverick comes over the comm feed, asking for advice on Thorne and Bianca. Once he starts growling for Bless, I step back into the sitting room, but Bless apparently had enough of waiting.

She's full-blown lost to the alpha rage.

I still should probably ask her about Thorne, so I do.

"Don't fuck with Thorne. He's not a bad guy. He's the guy Lennox is hung up on," Bless says, finally climbing off the bloody body of one of her male family members. "Tell Locke to get his ass in here, or I'm finishing this without him."

Gunner takes over, giving Locke a heads-up.

A second later, Maverick asks for an update on our position.

"Come on," Gunner says. "He sounds stressed."

The three of us head up the back stairs. I'm up front, but Gunner and Maverick are hot on my heels. We make it to the second-floor landing, and I aim down the hallway on the right as they move in front of me to scan the rooms.

This mansion is massive, and there's an entire second wing to the left, but I follow my instincts. Something is pulling me in this direction.

"Has anyone located the primary target?" Maverick asks.

The chorus of "nos" makes my skin itch.

That's been the consensus, but his ass has to be here somewhere.

"Tomlin Manzo is down," Soren says. "Kostov is currently removing his head as a trophy."

"Jesus Christ," someone mutters, but I don't recognize the voice.

"Are the Russians on another channel?" Ranger asks, suddenly sounding intrigued.

"Um, hold on," Merrick says. It takes a few seconds of silence, and he continues, "Sorry, I pushed Bless's team to their own channel. The Russians are on their own network. It was Soren's idea to keep the languages on different feeds to prevent confusion. Also, I'm keeping a copy of their communications?—"

"Because I asked him to," Soren says.

Maverick and Gunner come out of the rooms and move to the next room on either side of the hall.

"I'd love to be filled in on why you thought that was necessary," Ranger says blandly.

"I will do so on the ride home," Soren replies.

"Fine. Come along, Locke," Ranger says. "It's time you dispatch your father."

The glass windows at the end of the hall catch my attention, and I swivel slightly to see if the movement I'm seeing is my own reflection.

But. It's. Not.

"Where's the primary bedroom?" I ask, striding down the hall.

"Second floor," Locke says. "Hey, Merrick, can you pull Ranger and me from the group channel? It's about to get loud in here."

I'd laugh if I wasn't currently distracted.

I bet that man does have some lingering resentment after being ousted from his family, all for trying to clean up their act.

Maverick pops out the door as I'm striding past. "Gunner, come on." He follows after me. "Care to follow protocol?"

"No," I growl, pulling up the assault rifle. My foot slams against the door, shattering the wooden doorframe.

The deadbolt top lock is still intact, holding the door to the piece of the frame that gave way, but that only distracts me for a millisecond.

Avan stands not ten feet away, pulling huge stacks of cash from a wall safe and shoving them into a duffel bag.

The greedy motherfucker.

He has two guards standing nearby, and one gets a shot off immediately before mine lands in his chest.

Maverick or Gunner handles the other.

"Avan," I growl, without even meaning to. My first shot zips through the air in the very same instant. The hand holding all that dirty money explodes with the force of impact.

I frown as another shot lands in his temple.

That wasn't me.

"Primary target is down," Gunner says, stepping up at my side. "I repeat, primary target is down."

"All high value targets are accounted for," Merrick replies. "I'll notify the other teams since I never added them back into your feed."

"Thanks, Merrick." Gunner shoves his Glock into his holster and moves to rip off his mask.

"Damn," Maverick mutters. "I thought the plan was to sweet-talk Ranger into bringing him back to Virginia to toss him into the basement. I wanted to go visit and watch his ass suffer for a while."

Gunner shrugs. "That was until I remembered he tried to have Brooklyn and Libby killed."

"Well, I'm not going to be left out," Maverick says petulantly.

He pulls the knife from the sheath in his boot and walks over, giving Avan a couple of stabs for good measure. He wipes his knife off on the carpet and slides it back in his boot.

"Not a bad team-building exercise." Maverick laughs, holding out his fist for me to bump. "But you're still going to need to learn the combat commands."

I snort. "I'm actually thinking about retiring. Maybe I'll see if the tech guy is hiring." Or if Soren still does hits, I can get in on that. This was fucking chaos. It's way easier to take out a single target when you've stalked them for weeks and know every step of their daily itinerary. Stepping outside of my normal routine is what jacked me up with Dustin and his crew.

"Always," Merrick says, reminding me he can hear everything. "Well, for someone with your skills? Fuck, yes."

Gunner laughs. "Let's find the others and a water hose. I'm so fucking ready to be back with Brooklyn."

That is a sentiment I one-hundred-percent agree with. I'd really like to slide into bed next to my sweet little omega and cuddle the fuck out of her. Maybe if I play my cards right, I can slide inside her .