Chapter 6

COLE

I rode out of that garage and down the road, feeling every muscle in my body tense with anger. Vex Mercer was a complete asshole, everyone knew that. I myself had known that in theory, but actually meeting the man… that was a whole other level of irritating.

The way he’d towered over me, all smug and threatening, and yet his daughter had the audacity to call him out. I’d never get used to this twisted family dynamic. Even I as the Vice-President of the Revenants, I was a little scared of the man. How come his daughter wasn't?

The streets of New Orleans blurred past me, with the rain still slicking the asphalt in patches. Canal Street shimmered under the glow of neon signs and I swerved past the tourists who clearly had no idea how deep into danger they were wandering.

Turning down another str3et, I headed toward the route Ronn had described. There was a collection of abandoned industrial buildings clustered near the Mississippi River, mostly warehouses with rusted metal siding and boarded-up windows. It was a perfect place for criminals to move stolen goods under the radar.

I parked the woman’s bike behind a crumbling brick wall, hiding in the shadows. The river was shining through the gaps between the structures and the smell of decaying wood filled the air. It was way too quiet and that made the hairs on my neck stand up.

Then through the darkness, I spotted them. The Crimson Jackals were working like clockwork, hauling barrels and crates of ammo into two waiting vans. Our ammo. Goods that they had stolen right under our noses!

I counted and there were seven of them, all talking and laughing happily.

“You guys see that?” one of them asked the others. “We pulled this right under the Revenants’ noses. Can you believe it?”

“It was like they were asleep at the wheel,” another replied. “Their boss will be pissed when ge finds out.”

"Little pieces of shit!" I growled under my breath. There were too many of them to take on by myself. Ignoring Ronn’s suggestion to bring two Revenant boys along had been a mistake, but hindsight was useless now. I had to make this work, and I only needed one of them Just one to use as a scapegoat and send the rest scrambling.

One Jackal dropped a barrel, cursing and scrambling to lift it again. I shifted slightly behind the wall, holding my sidearm. If this went wrong, it was going to get messy fast. But if it worked…

I waited patiently until six of them climbed into the vans. They slammed the doors and turned the engines on, and then they rolled out one by one, kicking up dust and gravel as they went. But luckily, one of the Jackals stayed behind.

I watched him from my spot behind a rusted-out dumpster, keeping low and keeping still. He was young, maybe in his mid-twenties, with a skinny build. He was wearing a faded Jackals cut over a black shirt. He glanced around, then walked toward the back of one of the buildings like he had something to do.

Perfect. I moved forward stealthily.

He was halfway through unzipping his jeans and peeing into a patch of grass when I came up behind him, and slammed my forearm into the side of his head. He gasped and went down hard, hands scrambling against the dirt as he tried to get away from me.

"And where do you think you are going?" I growled. Then I grabbed a fistful of his jacket and dragged him backward, away from the open space and into the shadow of one of the buildings.

"Hey... hey, what the—"

I cut him off with a knee to the ribs and he folded like a bad hand.

"Shut up!" I bellowed. "You talk when I ask you to."

"Fucking hell!" He coughed and tried to push himself up. I kicked him back down.

"You're one of the Jackals, right?" I crouched next to him, close enough that he could see my face. "You and your boys just hit one of our warehouses. Took a whole lot of ammo that didn't belong to you."

His eyes widened in recognition. "Cole Maddox!"

"That's right!" I smirked at him. "You know names, don't you? I wonder how many useful names you'd spill once I'm done with you."

His eyes darted left and right, looking for help that wasn't coming. I smiled menacingly and grabbed his chin, forcing him to meet my eyes.

"You're looking for your pals, no?" I asked with venom in my voice. "They're not coming back. It's just me and you, dog."

The boy looked like he was about to break down in tears. I smiled wider, enjoying the utter terror in his eyes. He was scared of me. He'd probably heard stories of what I did to people. I liked that.

"I don't know what you're—" He started to say. But I grabbed his collar and slammed his head back against the ground. It was not hard enough to knock him out, but just hard enough to make a point.

"Try again!" I urged him. "How'd you do it? How'd you get in, load up and get out without anyone noticing?"

He spat blood onto the dirt. "Go to hell!"

I laughed; I couldn't help it. "That's cute. Real tough guy."

I stood, planted a boot on his chest and leaned just enough weight down to make breathing uncomfortable. The boy started to gasp and thrash around, but I didn't let up. By the time I started to press even further down, his face turned blue with suffocation.

"Let me explain something to you," I growled. "I don't need all seven of you, I just need one. And lucky you, you're the one I got. So here's how this works. You give me what I want, maybe you'll get I let you crawl back to your crew with a couple of bruises. Or you keep playing hero and I make sure they find your body in tiny, unrecognisable pieces."

He glared up at me silently. I waited and counted five seconds, then ten. But he didn't say a word.

I smiled again. "All right then. I guess you just tied your death noose yourself."

Then I yanked him up off the ground by his jacket and pulled him towards the bike.