Heart Recaptured Page 61


An angry roar split the silence of the riverbank. Turning, I saw Styx fuckin’ raging, mouth and muscles tight. Fixing my attention back on AK, I tried to keep a level head and asked, “Anything else you can see?”

AK frowned as he studied the footprints, then his expression changed and his head snapped up. “Military boots. Some serious heavy-duty military boots. And a smoke.” AK picked up the half-smoked cigarette and shook his head. “Still warm but cool enough to tell me whoever it is will be long gone with Lilah.”

“Who the fuck would be wearing boots like that ‘round here?” Cowboy asked.

“N-N-Nazis,” a voice sounded from the side. We all looked to Styx in shock. He’d spoken again. That’s how pissed the brother was. His fear of talking was overtaken by pure rage.

“He’s right. Those cunts all wear ‘em,” Vike said, and I closed my eyes.

“The distraction,” I said, everything now making a shitload of sense.

All eyes snapped to me. “Fuck!” Viking shouted.

“Tank. I need to speak to Tank,” I said and set off running through the woods. Just as I broke through into the yard, Tank, Bull, and Smiler were already running out toward us, faces hard as stone.

“Tank!” I yelled. “Those motherfuckin’ fascists have taken my bitch!”

Tank paled and threw his head back. “Fuck!”

All the brothers began to gather in the yard, all glaring at Tank, waiting for intel. My skin felt on fire with the need to chase tail and get my woman back in my arms where she belonged, but I had no fuckin’ idea where to start. And what the hell did the Klan want with her? How the fuck did they know she was here?

“My source, Tanner, heard Landry order the last of his fuckin’ redneck minions to move against us, to distract us with the IED, then extract the beautiful bitch…”

Tank hesitantly looked at Styx, who had moved beside me, and his eyes winced.

Styx jerked his chin at Tank, signaling for him to continue.

Tank sighed. “To take out Styx’s old lady. They were told they’d know her, as she looked like a goddamn supermodel. Mae was the target. He didn’t know more than that.”

My mind raced and adrenalin pumped through my veins. Fuck, this must be what Flame felt like twenty-four-seven. I wanted to kill, murder every bastard that fucked with my woman.

Styx was a statue beside me, but I knew he was teetering on the edge of losing his shit, ready to go track and slice up the Nazis. “What did they want her for? What did Landry want her for?”

Tank shook his head. “Tanner didn’t know. She weren’t going back to Klan HQ, that’s for sure. Looks like it was a cash run. Came from outside. Someone wanted her and no doubt paid a shit ton for the Klan to carry out the dirty work. Whoever it was didn’t want us to know it was them.”

I stepped forward, quickly losing my last shred of patience. “We need a name, a location, something to go off. We don’t get it, I have fuck all problem going over to Klan Kunt with a motherfuckin’ flame thrower in hand and an arsenal of semi-automatics to tear the fuckin’ place apart.

Tank ran his hand over his shank scar, eyes to the ground as he thought shit through. I never broke my stare on the brother, thinking up some goddamn creative ways of slitting Nazi throats. Tank eventually lifted his head and addressed Styx.

“Tanner gets us this intel and he’s dead. We gotta give him our protection. Hell, we’re gonna have to keep him in hiding here. They’ll lynch him if he’s found out giving up their business, and knowing Landry, he will find out. I ain’t losing one of my best friends without doing everything in my power to cover his ass first.”

“He ride?” Bull asked.

“Like a motherfuckin’ bat outta hell,” Tank replied. “Strong bastard too and a fuckin’ genius. Can hack into anything, get intel on anyone, anytime. The brother got skills… skills we could use. We got more enemies piling up at our door than we can count. Tanner could be a fuckin’ golden asset.”

“Why the fuck’s someone like that in the Klan?” Smiler asked, the question I’m sure we all were asking.

Tank’s eyes narrowed as he looked at each brother. “His old man brought him up White Power and hating every fucker else. He’s rooted deep in Texas Klan, never known no different. Not sure you’re getting how fucked they’d all be if he left. He’s their motherfuckin’ golden child.”

“Who’s his old man, Hitler?” Vike tried to joke, but Tank’s jaw clenched and he shook his head.

“His family line ain’t public knowledge and that’s they way he likes it.”

Styx broke from his frozen position and walked forward, signing, “You’re a Hangmen first and this racist fuck’s friend second, so you better get to sharing. And brother, that ain’t a request.”

It was the first time I’d seen Tank pissed at Styx, but knowing Styx wasn’t up for bullshitting, he replied. “Sometimes you’re a fuckin’ cunt, Styx. A goddamn cunt! I swore I’d never tell! The guy did a shit ton for me when I wanted to get out of the Klan, and if it weren’t for him, I’d have been with the boatman and now burning in hell,” Tank hissed.

Styx remained stoic and crossed his arms over his chest, a hard, expectant expression on his face.

No one at the club fucked with the Hangmen Mute.

“Fuck! Fine! His old man is… Governor Ayers,” Tank spat icily.

“Governor Ayers is a Nazi?” I asked tightly, Styx’s eyes widening. That guy controlled all’a Texas. And we paid him a shit ton of green annually to overlook our businesses. Hell, we went to war with White Power, we got feds and cops suddenly coming our way from every fuckin’ angle.

“Fuckin’ Imperial Grand Wizard of all Texas,” Tank said. “The guy is one of the leaders for the whole US of A.”

“Fuck!” Vike spat, and Tank’s shoulders sagged.

“What?” I asked Tank.

“That’s not all.”

“Then fuckin’ speak!” Styx signed, all his patience gone, and I swore Tank was actually gonna try and send his prez to the boatman. Bull put his hand on Tank’s shoulder, holding him back as Styx smirked, taunting the brother to even try.

Some fucker wanted to kidnap Mae. Styx weren’t to be fucked with right now… and neither was I. I was with Styx all the way. Those Klan fuckers took my bitch.

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