Consumed (Blood Ties Book 9)

He was dressed for war. Black on black, worn leather shoulder straps that criss-crossed over his thick chest were crammed with black handguns and loaded magazines. I’d only ever seen Benjamin Rossi in tailored slacks and open-collared shirts, looking like he’d spent all day in the boardroom.

But not tonight.

Tonight, he was made for terror.

A cell rang, the sound low and dangerous. Benjamin reached into his pocket and withdrew it, glanced at the caller ID before he swiped to turn it to silent.

“Your car is safe here, we’ll all go in my Rover,” he declared.

Colt glanced at the glistening black beast, then bent down and picked up a heavy duffel bag.Exclusive © material by Nô(/v)elDrama.Org.

“We have weapons, son,” Ben stated.

“I bring my own,” Colt answered simply and headed for the vehicle.

I said nothing and followed, realizing I hadn’t even thought of guns. The thick cross around my neck shifted as I turned and headed after the Son. But I’d made sure I had that. Tension grew inside me as Ben rounded the Ranger and climbed in, waiting for us to follow.

I said nothing as Colt heaved his bag onto the seat next to me and climbed in. The Range Rover’s engine growled into life. Doors closed and we pulled out, heading back out of the empty parking area that no doubt belonged to the building the Rossis owned.

I was pushed back into my seat as we accelerated hard, driving back onto the city streets.

“Do we have information?” Colt asked. “Is that what we’re doing here?”

Even he didn’t know.

Ben glanced into the rear-view mirror and met his gaze before suddenly turning sharply. Headlights flew past and people were a blur before we turned again. That ominous, heavy feeling returned. So I shifted my focus out the window, hit the button, and rolled down the window.

Sirens wailed.

Someone screamed as a fight broke out. Drunken men threw punches. We’d driven past before I knew it, speeding through the streets before turning once more. The landscape only grew more violent, and a lot seedier. Harley engines roared, the jarring sounds so loud I jerked and pulled back, then reached for the button on the window, until I stopped and slowly pulled my hand away.

Over the tops of clubs shone a vision. The cross of what must’ve been St. Stewart’s glowed in golden yellow, just like that vision of the cross that had spilled across the mountain at my feet. I pulled my hand back as we turned once more, pulling up on a darkened street outside the clubhouse of a notorious motorcycle club, Hells Saviors.

“You want to know what London’s men are doing?” Benjamin said as the vehicle idled.

As we sat and watched, three four-wheel drives pulled up outside the clubhouse. The driver and the men in the back seat eyed us as they passed. A nod from one of them and I knew they were aware we were friends and not foes. They climbed out and, in a blur, all the men rushed into the building.

The sound of breaking glass was followed by a BOOM! Smoke billowed before a steady stream of men and women dressed in cuts staggered outside, coughing and spluttering. Then four of the eight mercenaries who’d gone in came out mere minutes later, dragging three heavy leaders of the club and threw them to the ground.

“That’s what money buys,” Ben murmured. “Men with guns terrorizing criminals. But that’s not who we’re after. Our target is a whole new breed of vile bastard, ones who hide behind the money and the law.”

He shoved the Range Rover into gear and pulled out, leaving London’s men behind. We turned once more and, as we headed toward the sleek, towering business buildings, I caught sight of the glow of the cross once more.

It was a sign. I was sure of it and, as we slowed and pulled into the parking lot of one of the most prestigious buildings in the city, I understood why.

“Are you sure you’re in the right place?” I asked.

Colt just pulled a gun from behind his back, pulled back the slide, and lowered his hand. “Just tell me who I need to kill to find that fucker.”

He meant Hale, I knew.

We parked in front of the bank of slick steel elevators. But there was already a car waiting as we pulled up. Two men climbed out, one scruffy and dirty, his seedy eyes scanning us dressed in leather cuts and grimy jeans. The other was a stark contrast, in a neat black suit. He adjusted his jacket as we neared.

“Any complications?” Ben asked as he neared.

“Not really. Once Alistair here let us inside, it was pretty fast. He caused a fuss at first, but we straightened him out.”

I looked at the scruffy companion, trying to figure out where he fit in all this.

Ben glanced our way. “Alistair is undercover. He’s a plant from the motorcycle club the Banks brothers, along with Colt and Carven, destroyed. I’ve had him working for me ever since, gaining the kind of information that doesn’t make it online. Ignatius Bremmer is a master manipulator. Not only that, he is one of the lawyers behind The Order, helping it keep out of the courts for the vile things they do.”

“He is who we’re here to kill?” Colt asked as he readied the gun in his hand.

“No. We need information first. We need to know when and where Hale is running to. We get that and we’ll have no further use for him.”

That was all Colt needed. A nod, and the Son strode toward the elevator doors, then stopped and turned in front of them. “You coming, or do I have to torture this motherfucker myself?”

Ben gave a smile and headed after him without waiting for us to follow. But the moment we were inside the elevator, the Stidda Mafia leader changed. Gone were the brightness in his eyes and the remnant of a smile on his lips. He turned cold, so cold that goosebumps raced up my arms.

We rose all the way to the top floor of the building, and when we stopped Benjamin Rossi was the first one off the elevator, striding toward a set of frosted glass doors with the words Bremmer Johnson written in gold. Ben never slowed, just shoved his way through, passed the reception desk and headed for the hallway beyond it.

A man stood outside the door at the end, dressed in black. A Rossi man. He gave his boss a nod as we neared, opened the door for him, and stepped to the side. Why Benjamin wanted us here still wasn’t clear. He had men to do his dirty work. Men to kill. Men to torture. But here we were, following him into the massive corner office to stare at a graying older man sitting with crossed legs on a seat behind a desk.

“Benjamin Rossi,” he said slowly before glancing toward Colt, then me, and finally Caleb. “I see you’ve brought your lackeys with you.”

Colt unleashed a low growl and took a step forward. But the asshole sitting in the seat looked like he’d met his fair share of bullies. He never flinched, never even registered the movement at all.

Benjamin reached around, pulling out some kind of USB device from his pocket. “You remind me of a man I once knew. Someone who assisted another slimy piece of shit like Hale. He too had limited conscience and a large bankroll. I didn’t know the man he was helping to hide. It was just a job to me. One that paid very well.” He reached around the computer on the desk and plugged in the device. Tiny blue lights flickered as data processed.

“What the fuck is that?” Ignatius wrenched his gaze to where Ben had released the device and straightened to his full height. Our presence might’ve been ignored, but that wasn’t. “Get that out of my computer now. You’re breaking the goddamn law here. I’m going to ruin you, Rossi! I’m going to GODDAMN RUIN YOU!”

But Ben just stepped around the desk to stop in front of him. He pulled out a pair of black leather gloves, sliding them on one at a time. “Yes, you very much remind me of that slimy fucker. He roared and spat, too, until I started on his teeth, pulling them out one by one.”

The asshole couldn’t take his eyes off those flickering lights on his computer. When he turned back, Ben had secured the straps of his gloves around his wrists. He lunged, grabbed Ignatius by the throat, and clenched. The move was so fast and violent it took the asshole completely by surprise.

He unleashed a cry and flung himself backwards. But it was pointless. Benjamin gripped his throat in a vise-like grip and drove him backwards until the chair tipped. “When I started gutting him slowly, he passed out, but not before he pissed all over himself. If I did that to someone I didn’t know, imagine what I’d do to someone threatening my family.”

Ignatius turned gray and shook his head. “I…I don’t know anything.”

“Are you prepared to bet your life on that?” Ben growled out.

Colt knew exactly what Ben needed, so he reached to his belt and stepped forward. The overhead lights glinted on the honed edge of the blade the Son held in his palm.

“Not only will I leave the entrails of the bastard who went after my family on the ground at his feet.” Benjamin’s tone was chilling as he gave that bastard his entire focus. “I’ll go after his family, wives, mothers, children. I would kill and keep killing until I ended his bloodline.” He glanced at the desk and reached over to grab a large picture, staring at the massive family all crammed into the one frame. “That’s a lot of lives in your hands, Ignatius. I’d think very carefully before I spoke.”

“You can’t,” the bastard whimpered, his eyes so damn wide I could see the whites all the way around.

Flashes of Cassius’ terrified expression slammed into me.

“I can,” Ben answered, leaning down. “So help me God, I can. Because I’ve done it before.”

Ignatius unleashed a low, sickened sound and shook his head. There were tears in his eyes, thick ugly tears that slipped down his cheeks. My fingers clenched into fists. They were all the same…those sinners.

“Tell us what we want to know,” I croaked, my breaths racing. “Or be prepared to meet God’s wrath.”

He shifted that watery gaze my way. “I…I know nothing. All I have is a contact. That’s all, Haelstrom never gave me the details. He said he had to be careful, his cargo was too precious.”

“Cargo?” Benjamin growled.

We all knew what that meant.

Kat and his daughter.

“Give us the name.” Ben wrenched his shirt, dragging his gaze back. “You lie to me and I’ll fucking destroy you.”

“L-leroy Hay-Hastings.” The lawyer blubbered.

Benjamin shoved him backwards so hard the chair skidded and slipped, then fell forward and landed upright.

“Where can we find him?”

He shook his head. “I…I don’t know.”

Ben flicked the knife upwards, leaving the lawyer riveted by the movement. “He’s not a lawyer, some seedy bastard in Helenstown. That’s all I know…I swear, that’s all I know.”

Benjamin grabbed his shirt and yanked him forward. “And I believe you. You should thank your maker for that.” With one savage slash, he dragged the blade across the lawyer’s throat. Blood spurted instantly. I jolted, wrenching my focus to the smear on the knife before I looked back.

The lawyer’s wide eyes were fixed on Benjamin as though he couldn’t quite comprehend what just happened.

“W-what?” He spluttered, releasing a red torrent that streamed down his chest.

Benjamin was engulfed with the spurt as he stepped forward. It cut across his chest and dripped to the floor as he bent and wiped the blade on Ignatius’ shirt, before he stepping back. “No one comes after my family and lives. You can die knowing this ends here, your family is safe.”

But that meant little for him. He died like that, staring straight ahead. Just bled and bled and bled until the crimson mess had soaked into his shirt and stuck to his skin. Benjamin glanced at the USB in the back of the computer, then slowly peeled the glove off one hand and gave the blade back to Colt.

I tore my focus from that empty, dead stare and found the gaze of the stone-cold killer in front of me. “What do we do now?”

“Now we find Leroy Hastings,” Benjamin said coldly, folding his gloves and handing them to his man behind us. “And we keep going until we find where this piece of shit is hiding. We give him nowhere to run and nowhere to hide. If I have to kill every man in this goddamn city to do it, then so be it.”

I’d seen Riven kill out of pure desperation.

I’d even seen men shot in the head as he knelt alongside us on the filthy landing dock of The Order.

But I’d never seen anything like that.

Cold.

Mechanical.

Brutal.

Like he almost enjoyed it.

His man’s phone chimed. The protector answered it before the second ring and lifted it to his ear. “Yeah? Yeah, okay. I’ll ask. Hold on.” He looked at Ben. “Do we need our escort?”

Ben scowled, then slowly glanced my way.

Why the hell did he look at me?

”Yes, have him follow.”

He stepped around the dead lawyer as his man relayed the information on the phone. Ben checked that the USB was still processing, then said. “Tell the boys they can connect. Take them back to the garage. Call me once you have a location for Leroy Hastings.” He glanced our way, meeting Caleb’s stare. “Keep your cell close, I’ll call when we have something concrete.”

A nod from Caleb, and Benjamin turned and headed for the door, stopping only when he was alongside me. “You did well tonight, Priest. I didn’t think you had the stomach for it. But you’ve proved me wrong. You remind me of my brother before he died, you know that? He was different from the rest of us, kinder, more considerate.” His focus hardened. “But that didn’t mean he wasn’t capable of protecting those he loved, even if he demanded more from us emotionally than we were capable of. Keep that tenderness about you, son. It’s a trait we all sacrificed to violence a long time ago, including your brothers. Protect it, cherish it, and I promise I’ll do my best to keep you safe.”

“Okay,” I murmured, trying to keep up with what had happened.

Benjamin Rossi liked me, no, he more than liked me. He felt some kind of connection. Maybe it was all hidden under the ghost of his brother. Maybe it was a deeper yearning of his own soul. Either way, it looked like I had a guardian of sorts. His steps echoed and slowly faded as he strode through the door.

“Let’s get you back to your cars,” Benjamin’s man said.

We all turned, until I stopped and looked back over my shoulder.

To the gaping wound and the bloody lips of a man who’d had so much to live for, but instead, he’d died protecting the Devil. Haelstrom Hale was pure evil. There was only one place for his kind, the same cold, empty place this man was finding his way to.

“Good riddance.” I whispered as I turned and left the office and that building far behind.

“INCOMING,” Colt muttered from the passenger’s seat of the midnight blue Explorer.

Benjamin’s man glanced into the rear-view mirror and caught the glare of headlights that flooded the car. “It’s okay. It’s our date for the night.

Our date?

I turned to look over my shoulder as the blue Land Rover pulled up alongside us. Through the dark tinted window, a hulking beast of a man took up the entire space behind the steering wheel. He turned his head and stared straight at me before he gunned the engine and drove out in front of us.

“Who is he?” I asked.

Ben’s man met my stare in the reflection. “They call them Cerberus, the three-headed Mafia hound. If you ask me, they’re ruthless sons of bitches. Ones you never want to piss off, if you get my meaning?”

I stared at the ominous shadow in the driver’s seat and a sinking feeling gripped me. “Noted,” I mumbled as we drove into the underground garage and pulled up alongside our cars.

The blue Land Rover followed us in but stayed back in the empty car spaces, the engine thick and throaty as it rumbled.

“He’s going to follow you home, Priest.” Benjamin’s man glanced toward the car as we climbed out.

“Thomas,” I answered as I closed the door behind me.

“What?”

I met his gaze. “My name is Thomas, not Priest. I’m not that…not anymore.”

A slow nod and he gave a shrug. “Whatever you need.”

Thomas, that’s who I was. I reached into my pocket, pulled out the keys to Riven’s Audi, unlocked it, and climbed in. I didn’t start the engine right away, letting those words really sink all the way into my bones.

I wasn’t a Priest. I couldn’t be, not after what I’d done and all the things I was going to do.

But that realization didn’t hurt as much as it should’ve. In fact, I felt free.

Freer than I’d felt in a long time. The cross around my neck shifted against my skin as I leaned forward and started the engine. I had my faith, and now I had my purpose, and it was bigger than ever before. When I drove out of the garage, that Land Rover followed and pulled in behind me.

I drove through the city, my focus divided between the streets ahead and the blinding headlights behind me. Cars cut in between us and each time they did, my pulse kicked up. But they quickly moved on, the cars thinning out as I continued heading out of the city.

He’s going to follow you home, Priest.

Why?

Why me?

It seemed stupid having an escort, especially all the way out here.

I drove in silence, watching the road, and tried to push the events of the night from my mind.

Headlights shone, glaring in the rear-view mirror as two motorcycles overtook the Land Rover and closed in between us. I looked back as I started the climb up the mountain. The roar of the engines was very loud with them so near. I waited for them to overtake me, my focus more on the man behind the wheel of the Land Rover following me.

But as the road grew steeper, I realized the bikers weren’t going to pass me. They sat between us, hugging each corner, gaining that little bit closer.

“Come on.” I gripped the wheel tighter. “Just go around.”

The driveway to the house was up ahead, but I couldn’t turn in, not with those assholes up my damn ass.

Crack!

I flinched as the side mirror exploded. “What the fuck?”

Headlights veered as the outline of a bike pulled out. In the reflection of his headlights, I caught sight of the leather vests and the patches they wore. They were bikers…like the ones from tonight. The ones London’s men had bullied and beaten.

“Oh shit.” I swung my focus back to the road and pushed the Audi harder.

Crack!

The passenger side window shattered and some glass flew in. I unleashed a roar as the car jerked hard across the middle of the road. Get to the house…just get to the goddamn house.

As more gunfire came, I knew I had no time left. I gripped the wheel, punched the brakes, and prayed.