Dead of Wynter: Chapter 62
Three trucks pull into the driveway one after the other, dust floating through the air and making the moment even more ominous than it already was. My stomach flips painfully at what I’m about to see. Even though we’ve done this a few times, it never gets any easier seeing the darker parts of humanity.
We have Doc and a few other trusted physicians on standby to tend to any injuries, but it’s not the physical wounds that will need healing. These women have been torn from their lives and sold like they’re little more than an object. The impacts of that will live with them for the rest of their lives.
The other men start pulling out their weapons, aiming them toward the trucks like the helpless people inside will be any match for them even without a gun, but it gives me the opportunity to do the same. My trigger finger has been itching since the moment I left Frost Industries, and I’ve never been more ready to end lives as I am right now. Every single one of these fuckers deserves a painful death for their involvement. I understand needing to put food on the table, but there has to be a limit to what you’re willing to do, and in my opinion that limit should lay somewhere well before selling other human beings for profit.
Something settles in me the moment the heavy gun is in my hand, the cool metal in my palm, and I can breathe just a little easier knowing I get to start killing people soon. I just have to hope Tommy and Rayne are close. After I sent the message, I was a little worried they would turn back around and defend the estate, but even if I have to do it myself all these motherfuckers are going to die tonight.
The trucks stop, one after the other and I hold my breath. The first time I did this, I wasn’t prepared for the stench. These people have likely been living in their own filth for weeks, and combine that with small spaces, you have one hell of a smell on your hands.
Just as men step toward the back of the truck, their hands raised to pull the back doors open, loud gunshots ring through the air.
Thank fuck for that.
I duck down with everyone else, not ready to give myself away just yet. I’m in the thick of Russo’s men. Even a whiff of my involvement and one of them may get the drop on me.
“Fuck. It’s Saint James men,” someone shouts.
“Take cover,” another man yells. I almost tell him he can hide all he wants, but he’s going to die like the scum he is tonight but decide to keep my mouth shut.
“Stay with the cargo,” I order.
The moment I have eyes on Rayne, his eyes filled with barely controlled rage, holding the biggest fucking gun I’ve ever designed, I allow myself to stand and cross to where he’s standing. For the first few steps, I keep my gun drawn to keep up the show I’m putting on, but as soon as I’m sure they have my back I lower it and shove it in the back of my jeans.
Tommy appears a moment later, a semi-automatic pointing toward the group of men on the ground. “I feel a bit like a bank robber, boys.” He smirks. “Look at all these bitches cowering in the dirt.”
I chuckle. “Now, now, Tommy, no need to rub salt in the wounds.”
“But that’s my favorite thing to do!”
“Can you two shut the fuck up? I want to get back to the estate and make sure my woman is okay,” Rayne snaps.
“Fine.” Tommy sighs and lowers his weapon, stepping toward the truck and wrenching the door open.
No matter how prepared I am for it, the stench never ceases to almost knock me on my ass. Scared faces hide behind the woman in the front, all of which seem dejected. Who knows what they’ve been through to get here. The last shipment we intercepted there were some girls who were just too far gone. They’d been through too much to recover and took their own lives. I understood it, but I fucking hated that there were people who did this shit in the first place.
“Call the house,” I tell Rayne. It’s the only way he and I are going to be able to focus on the task at hand.
He steps away from us, his hand sliding into his pocket and retrieving his phone. My hand itches to do the same, but I have to keep an eye on these fuckers until we can exterminate them.
“It’s okay,” Tommy says softly. He’s not the least threatening of us, but there are things in his past that make him the best person to deal with the initial contact. “We’re not going to hurt you,” he promises. “The men who planned to hurt you are all on the ground out here, and we’re going to get you to safety where we can get you all seen by a doctor, okay?”
A few quiet voices fill the silent night and it’s like music to my ears because this is the last fucking time we have to do this. After tonight, there will be no human trafficking in this city, and we’ll never have to see the ugliness of trading humans for cash again.
Movement out of the corner of my eyes catches my attention and I quickly draw my gun, aiming it at Dennis, whose cold eyes are murderous. His own gun is gripped tightly in both hands and aimed at me. “I knew you would double cross your family. Told them a hundred times you couldn’t be trusted, that you weren’t with the Saint James scum just for information. But they never listened to me.”
I laugh. “That’s because you’re a whining, driveling little shit who my uncles despise. But you’re too loyal to let go of, and you’ve been with them too long to risk anything you know getting out.”
“That’s not true,” he snaps, his finger tightening over the trigger.
“Isn’t it?” I tilt my head to the side. I shouldn’t be provoking the man, but I can’t help myself. I’ve hated him my entire life, and now getting to fuck with him is just that little bit of extra fun I need right now. “Because even today, they told me not to let you unload the girls. Said you hurt a few the last time and they couldn’t be sold.”
His eyes widen. The only way I would know that is if it were true, which it is. This motherfucker is going to the grave knowing the family he gave his entire life to didn’t respect or appreciate him.
“Everett,” Rayne shouts, and I immediately turn my head to see his panicked gaze. “Emerson and Snow are in the panic room, but Elijah has Storm and Wynter.”
Those are the last words I hear before gun shots ring out and an excruciating pain radiates through my gut. By the time I turn back to David, his smug smile is firmly in place. I grunt at the pain, but my weapon remains aimed at him, right in the middle of his fucking forehead. “Tell the devil I said hi.” I smirk as I pull the trigger. The vibration bursts through my arm, but a gunshot isn’t going to stop me from getting to my woman.
“Tommy, you stay here and coordinate the men. They’re just waiting on the call. Have the trucks taken to the warehouse. I’ll have doctors there, but Doc will be with us,” Rayne says, his eyes locked on the blood seeping through my shirt.
“Can I kill these fuckers?” Tommy asks.
“Abso-fucking-lutely.”