Blake arrived at the edge of the tree line and followed Country’s lead, killing the engine as they approached the gravel road concealed by the thicket of bush and bracket. A path had been cleared to allow large vehicles to pass. Off to the side, there was a flat area of land surrounded by more trees and bush, and that’s where Country stashed his bike. Blake followed suit, as did Taco, Repo, and a couple of prospects they felt could lend a solid hand.
Under the moonless sky, the night was pitch black this far out into the countryside, and Blake couldn’t shake the unease that squirmed through him. Country’s recon work said that this was where Ricky Cruiz was running the bulk of his daily operations. He’d canvassed the grounds, checking security measures and the like, and even though Blake trusted his judgment and his word, his guard remained up. It had to. Getting himself killed out here was not an option.
His thoughts immediately reflected on Gabby’s hurt expression when he’d left her back at the house. He knew this was hard for her, especially since she hadn’t been raised in the life as he had, but she had to get over it if she was going to be with him. And she was with him as far as he was concerned. She might not like how they operated—keeping information at a minimum—but she’d have to understand that there was a reason for it. He wasn’t setting out to hurt or offend her in any way when he said that he couldn’t tell her anything. He was simply doing his best to keep them all alive and well.
Besides, if he got himself into trouble out here tonight—which was highly likely—then she wouldn’t be held complicit for anything.
But tonight was all about information gathering. They needed to know what was happening in their backyard so they could develop a plan to combat it. With Jodi sleeping with the enemy and Cruiz pushing in on their territory, they couldn’t afford to continue looking the other way. Before, when Cruiz was just peddling his services, he wasn’t worth getting their hackles up over. It was simply a wait and see how it plays out kind of thing. Now that Jodi was involved, however, things were more complicated. She had insider knowledge—however limited that might be—and it was imperative that they ensured the Spartans and their families were safe from any blowback she might cause.
Blake didn’t think for one second that Jodi wouldn’t do or say whatever she could if it meant destroying him. If she had proved anything at all since walking out that door, it was that she was a vicious, vindictive bitch.
Once they had their bikes stowed out of sight, Country led the way up the sloping grounds toward a large, weathered red barn that glowed from the lights on inside.
Off to the side, Blake spotted a sprawling farmhouse that had fallen into disrepair. It, too, was lit up internally, giving him the sense that, if they were outted, there were enough people on the grounds to cause them some serious trouble.
His men seemed to understand the inherent danger and kept close but quiet as they crept nearer to the barn. Signaling right, Country guided them around the side of the structure to a window that had been blacked out but retained enough scratches in some areas to provide a decent view inside.
Country took point, scoping out the interior and getting a read on what was happening inside before moving over to allow Blake access. The view wasn’t clear by any means, but he was able to make out shapes and colors well enough to get a decent picture.
“Meth?” he mouthed. Country nodded. The room on the other side of that wall was filled with bright overhead lighting that hung from the rafters and rows of tables manned by nearly-naked people. At the front of the room stood an armed guard wearing a face mask to guard from the deadly fumes. Guess they didn’t provide healthcare.
One piece of the puzzle figured out, they moved on toward the back of the barn. Another road made of compacted dirt wound a path through a field of corn to God only knew where. At its mouth was a large box truck, sat idling, while its driver—a middle-aged, brown-skinned man with a thicker head of black hair than his own—stood, engaged in a heated exchange with another man easily half his age. From their vantage, only a mélange of indiscernible English and what sounded like Spanish made it to their ears, but it was clear that whatever they were discussing they couldn’t agree on.
“You think that’s a deal?” Repo whispered over Blake’s shoulder.
He shrugged. Too early to tell. Taking Country’s lead, they held their position, waiting to see how the situation played out. Moving now was too risky anyway. Crouched behind an assortment of decaying farm equipment provided a modicum of protection from the naked eye, but any movement on their part could reveal their position in a heartbeat. They were literally sitting ducks out there.
Blake wasn’t sure how long they’d been hunkered down in that spot, but it was long enough for his legs to start cramping. He knew his men were feeling the strain too, but they remained stalwart in their efforts to stay hidden. None of them desired to go home in a body bag tonight. Or end up in a dry creek bed for the carrion to feast on.
When the older man began heading toward the back of the truck, Blake opened his mouth to suggest they take the opportunity to retreat, only to snap it shut again when movement from his left caught his eye.
The barn’s giant double doors slid open, leaving a gaping hole along the back wall. Once again, Blake and his men watched intently to see what came next.
Within moments, the younger man made an appearance…followed by a line of women. Blake counted ten in total, all barefoot, dirty, and wearing chains that connected them to one another.
Fucking A. Country’s girl had been right. Cruiz wasn’t just pimping women out, he was trafficking them.
Balling his fists, Blake clamped his jaw together to hold back his fury. Behind him, he could feel the barely restrained rage from his men as well. In their world, women were respected, not treated like animals or receptacles kept around solely for a man’s use.
The points against Cruiz just kept racking up. Blake couldn’t wait to make the fucker pay.
It took every ounce of restraint he and his men had to watch those women get loaded into the back of that truck and allow it to drive away. He had to tell himself they were already lost and make peace with it before he was able to gather his men and head back to their bikes.
Thankfully, they made it off the grounds without incident, but he and his men were definitely worse for wear. By the time they were back on the road headed for home, the weight of what they’d witnessed began to press down, and without a word spoken between them, they rode to the clubhouse together where they spent the remainder of the night and a good deal of the morning getting shitfaced in order to drown out the disturbing things they’d seen with the only solace being that, come time for church, they were going to form a plan. A plan that would focus on taking Cruiz and his men down once and for all, which meant that the last ten years of peace was over.
They were going to war.