Copper (RBMC: Tulsa, OK Book 2) Page 17

  “I need to call Copper,” I state, realizing I left my phone on the bed when I changed. “To tell him you’re here.”

  Dragon chuckles, dark and demonic. “Why are you scared of me, Stormy? The dogs aren’t. They love me.”

  Love is a stretch.

  They know him but aren’t exactly happy about the vibe he’s putting off. Hansel is tense at my feet beside me while Gretel has her eye on Dragon, ready to strike if necessary.

  “You can put your gun down now,” Dragon urges. “I’m not here to hurt you.”

  Yeah fucking right.

  I don’t trust this asshole as far as I can throw him.

  “Why are you here?” I ask again. “Is it to talk about Vidal and Collins?”

  Darkness shutters in his gaze and his jaw clenches. “I don’t want to talk about them per se. I just want to find them.”

  “Why?”

  “So I can peel their skin from their bodies and make them fucking eat it,” he snaps, earning a whimper from my sister and a growl from both dogs.

  “Okay,” I murmur, not dropping my gun even though my arm is starting to hurt. “I think we want the same thing more or less.” I ignore the horrified look my sister gives me. “They’ve taken our brother. We want to find them so we can get him back.”

  His body goes rigid and he shudders. Fear. Horrible, consuming fear causes the most fearless man I know to shake like a little boy. I remember the photos of him at sixteen. There’s no telling what they put this man through to transform him from that boy to a psychotic dragon.

  “Are they going to hurt Cove?” I whisper.

  Green eyes snap to mine. “They’ll kill him.”

  Tears flood my eyes, but I quickly blink them away to clear my vision. “How? Did you see them kill other people?”

  He pokes at his thumb with his knife, drawing a prick of blood. “They killed Chase.”

  Calla starts to cry. I can’t afford to take my eyes off Dragon. He’s losing his fucking mind right now and I don’t trust him with his knife so close to my sister’s head.

  “Chase was just a kid,” I say slowly. “How did they kill him?”

  His face goes blank. “Over and over and over and over and over and over.” He continues to repeat himself, his words finally fading.

  Bile rises up my throat. “Do you think they’ll do the same thing to Cove?”

  “They do it to everyone,” Dragon hisses. “Which is why we need to find them and kill them first.”

  Okay, so we are on the same page, even if it’s a really fucking terrifying one.

  “We can’t do this alone,” I murmur, lowering my gun. “We need the Royal Bastards. Koyn can help.”

  His brows furrow and he nods. “Maybe Koyn will let Cove be Batman.”

  Calla’s blue eyes are wide with a mixture of confusion and fear. I know he sounds fucking loony right now, but I understand what he means. When Koyn found Dragon and asked his name, he tried to get him to call him Batman. Koyn essentially named Dragon. Dragon, apparently, believes Koyn will rescue Cove too.

  “Cove’s more of a Robin if we’re being honest,” I say with a forced smile. “Why don’t you go get Katana and I’ll call Koyn?”

  He nods, disappearing toward the back door and leaving it wide-open. I rush over to Cala and yank her to her feet.

  “He’s okay,” I assure her. “We need to call Koyn and Copper, though.”

  “Who are these people?” she hisses as I drag her through the living room with me. “Hitmen?”

  “They’re a biker gang. A really fucked up one.”

  “But you’re a Fed,” Calla says, stopping and glaring at me. “Right?”

  I chew on my bottom lip before giving her a shake of my head. “It’s a long story and now’s not the time.”

  Bang! Bang! Bang!

  The dogs start barking and take off out the back door toward the sounds of gunfire that seem to continue. It’s too risky to go to the bedroom for my phone, so I jerk on Calla’s arm, hurrying her to the storm shelter closet. Before we reach it, Dragon howls—the sound of terror and agony wrapped into an awful sound before he calls out to me.

  “Run, Stormy!”

  One of the dogs makes a terrible yelping sound that makes my heart split in two. All I can think about is getting my sister to safety. That’s all I can focus on.

  “Quick,” I bark out. “Get inside.”

  I fling open the door and shove her into the closet. I follow after her, jerking the heavy door back into place. I’m just turning the lock when it’s yanked back open, sending me hurtling into the arms of a man wearing all black with a black face covering. He wrangles the Glock out of my hand but not before I squeeze off a shot that misses him and sails through the wall behind him. Another man appears, rushing into the closet for my sister.

  “Nooooo!” I scream, kicking out trying to free myself.

  The man drags me through the house and out the front door. Cold November wind assaults us, nearly knocking him over. We pass a vehicle where the men were supposed to be watching us. Two bodies slumped over, bullet holes in their heads.

  Oh God.

  A van drives up to us and a couple more guys rush over to us. They work together to bind my wrists and ankles, finally slapping duct tape over my mouth. I feel helpless when they dump me in the back of the van. Moments later, my sister is dropped beside me. Her eyes are rolled back in her head. I don’t know if they hurt her or if she passed out from fear. Either way, I feel like a failure for being unable to protect her. My sob makes it hard to breathe, so I do my best to calm down. Seconds later, another body is dumped in and then the doors slam shut. I wriggle around to face a dazed Dragon. Blood rushes from a wound on his forehead.

  “We got all three,” a voice says from the front seat. “On our way.”

  As soon as Dragon makes sense of his surroundings, his eyes glass over and he whimpers. Dragon the psychopath whimpers. This is so bad.

  I try my best to calm him, keeping my eyes locked on his. We’re going to get through this. Don’t panic. Everything’s going to be okay. Stay calm. Eyes on me.

  With a shuddering breath, Dragon clamps his eyes closed. The moment I see a tear leak out of the corner of one of his eyes and roll over the bridge of his nose, I’m the one who whimpers this time.

  We are so fucked.

  So. Fucked.

  Copper

  “Shell companies,” I tell Dan over the phone as Koyn taps away on his computer. “I got to thinking about it on the way here. Stormy said—”

  “Who?” Dan interrupts.

  “Agent Gale. Her nickname is Stormy,” I grunt before continuing. “She mentioned before that the building was generic. The business name was generic. He was doing business right under our noses here in Tulsa. Watcher’s Group was obviously a shell company. If I knew what fucking city they were operating in right now, we could start there and compile a list of all the businesses, pull aside the ones that sound like shell companies.”

  “We know they’ve operated in at least Houston, Tulsa, and Memphis. Perhaps even Fayetteville assuming they weren’t there just for the purpose of grabbing the Gale twins.”

  Dan continues to brainstorm, but my attention is now on Koyn, who’s on the phone. His face pales before a murderous expression crosses over his features.

  “Shit, Dan, I’ve got to go,” I blurt out before ending the call and growling at my brother. “What is it?”

  “We’re on our way,” Koyn barks as he stands. Then, to me, he says, “They took them.”

  “Who took who?” My blood runs cold.

  For a brief moment, Koyn seems distraught. Completely at a loss as to what to do. He’s a man who leads without question, so this has my heart in my throat because I know I’m not going to like what he has to say.

  “Vidal and Collins.” He scrubs a shaking hand over his face. “They’ve got the girls and Dragon.”

  I’m out of my chair in the next second, a full-on run out of Koyn’s office.
He hollers after me, but I don’t have time to wait.

  They’ve got Stormy.

  Fuck.

  I’ve barely made it to my truck when Koyn stops me with a loud whistle.

  “Hold the fuck on. Filter and Payne ran to grab some guns. We’ll load them in the truck and head out there.”

  I give him a clipped nod and climb into the truck, starting it up. Koyn disappears and a few minutes later, the three of them run my way, strapped with weapons. Once they’re inside, I peel out like a bat out of hell.

  “The other guys are going to stay here with Hadley and Caydence,” Koyn grunts out. “We don’t know if those motherfuckers will come here next, but I have them keeping guard. Bermuda and Nees are right behind us.”

  I beat my fist on the steering wheel, letting loose a string of curse words. “This is all my fault. I shouldn’t have left them.”

  Payne grips my shoulder from behind me. “You thought they were safe. Don’t put this blame on yourself.”

  “What the fuck was Dragon doing there anyway?” Filter asks from the back seat.

  “You know how he is,” Koyn grumbles. “A fuckin’ vigilante. Like Batman. But the dumbass forgot that Batman always gets his ass kicked. He should have picked Thor or fucking Spiderman.”

  His joke would be funny under normal circumstances, but right now, I’m seconds from losing my shit. If they hurt Stormy, I’ll lose my goddamn mind.

  “Why didn’t they take Katana too?” Payne asks.

  Koyn sucks in a sharp breath. “He’s hurt.”

  “Hurt?” I bark out, cutting my eyes to him. “How?”

  “I don’t know. He was wheezing. Sounded pretty bad.” Koyn pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs. “I think they left him for dead.”

  The truck goes silent after that. I do ninety-five down the expressway, hoping like fuck I don’t get seen by a cop. A trip that usually takes longer is cut nearly in half. When I reach the turn in on my road, dread consumes me.

  I won’t be going home to see my girl cooking.

  Stormy isn’t there.

  They fucking took her.

  As soon as I pull up in front of the house and my dogs don’t meet me barking, I get a sick twist in my gut, especially considering the door is standing wide-open.

  I climb out of the truck, sucking in deep breaths, trying to steady myself for what I’ll find.

  “You two look for Katana,” Koyn instructs Filter and Payne. “Copper and I need to check on these two guys.”

  I’m rigid as I walk over to the vehicle of the two guys Dan sent. They’ve been shot. In the fucking heads. Jesus. Bile rises in my throat and I swallow down the urge to vomit. These vile motherfuckers have my girl.

  “They…” I choke on my words. “If they killed my dogs…”

  Koyn gives me a nod, his face filled with pity. “Let me look first. Stay out here and call Dan.”

  My hands shake as I make the call to Dan. The more eyes and hands we have on this, the better, especially now since Stormy is gone. I’ve barely ended the call when Koyn motions for me to enter the house.

  I follow him through, noting the signs of struggle. The storm closet door standing open. The Glock I gave Stormy on the floor. A bullet through the wall. She tried. My fucking girl tried. Koyn walks out back. Both dogs are sitting next to Katana, who’s propped up against a tree. Filter is squatted in front of him.

  Hansel whines when he sees me. Gretel doesn’t lift her head from Katana’s lap. As soon as I approach, my stomach twists violently. All three of them are hurt.

  “Hey, boy,” I grunt as I kneel to check Hansel for injuries. The side of his neck is wet with blood where a bullet grazed him. He whimpers when I touch it. Not deep, but it’ll need stitches. “How’s our girl, Gretel?”

  Gretel sniffles but doesn’t move. It’s then I see Katana’s hand holding her side, covered in blood. Katana is bleeding from several holes in his abdomen.

  “Fuck,” I hiss out.

  Payne arrives with my first aid kit and yanks it open. He and Filter start assisting Katana, who won’t take his hand off my dog. I finally snap out of it, grabbing some gauze.

  “Thanks, buddy,” I tell Katana. “I’ve got her now.”

  As soon as I pull his hand from her side, blood seeps out. Quickly, I cover the wound. I’ll need to get both dogs to the vet immediately.

  “Dad!” Blake calls out. He skids to a stop beside me. “They shot our dogs?! Those fuckers!”

  I don’t stop to revel in the fact my son called me Dad. It’s been a long time since I’ve heard him call me anything but Copper.

  “We have to get them to Dr. Sanchez.” I scoop Gretel up, my heart breaking when she whines. “It’s okay, girl. We’re going to fix you.”

  I carry Gretel to Bermuda’s truck. His face is white and he looks seconds from puking. I know how much he cares about Stormy, so I know he’s fucked-up over this like I am.

  “We’re going to get them,” I assure him. “We fucking will.”

  Bermuda relaxes slightly. “Damn right.”

  Blake stalks ahead of me with Hansel in his arms. “We’ll put them in the cab. I can sit with them while you drive,” he tells Bermuda. “Dad, you need to stay here and find those fuckers. We’ll take care of the dogs.”

  As much as I want to go and make sure they’re okay, I know he’s right.

  “Thanks, Son,” I grunt out as I pass Gretel to him once he’s situated in the truck. “Keep me posted.”

  I give Bermuda a nod and then trot back into the house. Voices can be heard in the guest room. I follow the sound to find Filter and Payne carrying Katana.

  “Before we left, I called Animal. They’ve got a doctor there with them. She’s discreet. We just need to keep him stable until she gets here,” Koyn says to me. “Grab some towels and whatever else you can find to help staunch the bleeding.”

  Rushing from the room, I head to my bedroom. Stormy’s clothes she was wearing earlier are littered on the floor and her phone sits on the bed. Sickness roils in my gut. Did they strip her? Did they rape her? Did they beat her?

  I suddenly understand the blinding rage Koyn always felt after what happened to his wife and daughter eleven years ago. The very thought of something like that happening to Stormy makes me want to torch the whole fucking world.

  Tearing my gaze from her clothes, I force myself to head into the bathroom to grab the shit Koyn needs. I’m bent over, grabbing out towels, when something catches my eye.

  A pregnancy test.

  No.

  Pain slices through my chest like a gnarly knife, cutting out my heart in one go. I rise to my feet and force myself to look at the results.

  Pregnant.

  My fucking girl is pregnant.

  And they took her.

  I let loose a furious growl, slamming my fist into the mirror. It shatters into a million pieces. Pain lances across my knuckles. Blood pours down my fingers, splattering all over the countertop.

  “What is it?” Koyn demands, stalking into the bathroom. “Way to go, man. You fucked up your hand.”

  I flex my fingers and make a fist. My fingers will be fine. My heart…not so much. Clenching my eyes closed, I let loose a ragged sigh. An ache forms inside my chest and won’t subside.

  “Fuck,” Koyn hisses upon seeing the pregnancy test. “You knocked Stormy up?”

  Emotion burns in my throat and I nod, finally meeting his stare. “We have to find them.”

  “We will,” he assures me. “Fuck.” He takes a steadying breath. “Get your hand cleaned up and then get in there. We’ll brainstorm and keep an eye on Katana.”

  After he leaves with the towels and supplies for Katana, I run my hand under the sink to rinse the blood off. Only hours ago, I made love to Stormy. Not just fucked her. Our bodies made fucking promises that Vidal and Collins are trying to break.

  Images of a blond-haired, blue-eyed baby squirming in my arms is almost too much to bear. Stormy may have made lots of mistakes in
her life, but she got her shit together with me. All she wants is to be loved and happy. I could give her that. I was giving her that until these motherfuckers stormed into our life and ruined it. So help me, if they hurt her or my baby, I will lose my fucking mind.

  I dig around in the cabinet until I find some more gauze. After wrapping my fingers, I exit the bathroom. Stormy’s phone is still on the bed. I pick it up and turn to the last picture she took. It’s a selfie of us from the night before. Love shines in her eyes and her plump lips are quirked in a teasing smile. I don’t even remember what she was giving me shit about, but she was amused.

  Fuck, I miss her.

  My phone buzzes in my pocket. I shove hers in my pocket and grab mine, hoping it’s Dan with information on their whereabouts. Instead, I see that it’s Blake.

  Blake: Mom met me up here. Dr. Sanchez just took them both back. She said Gretel is going to need surgery, but she’s stable.

  At least there’s some good news.

  Me: Let me know once they’re good. Krista can stay with them for us. We’re going to need all hands on deck so as soon as you guys can, get back over here.

  Blake: K. See you soon.

  I give him a thumbs-up emoji that’s returned with some angry faces that I don’t understand. With a sigh, I pocket my phone and head back into the guest room. Katana looks better than he did now that they’ve done a good job of stopping the bleeding.

  “What can you tell us?” I bark out, ignoring the glare from Koyn. “Anything. Who were these guys? What the fuck were you two doing here anyway?”

  Katana groans, his eyes pinching shut. “Dragon wanted to ask Stormy’s sister some questions about Vidal and Collins.” He wheezes. “He wanted to hunt them down and kill them.”

  “So you showed up and then what?” I demand.

  “We parked on a trail near here and hiked our way to the back of your property since we knew you had guys watching the place.” He pauses, catching his breath. “I kept watch while he went inside to talk to the women.”

  Dragon’s lucky Stormy didn’t shoot his ass.

  “And…” I urge. “Come on. Anything will be useful to us.”

  “I heard the gunshots first,” Katana hisses. “I started for the house to warn Dragon, but then I was shot by a big-ass dude. I’m talking almost seven feet tall. He wore a black mask to cover his face, but…”