Bratva Boss’s Secret Triplets by Bella King
Chapter 23
Rebel
Goddamn it!
How could she have possibly dismissed me like that?
I offered to give her literally everything she could have ever wanted and she acted like I tried to give her a stick of gum I found on the sidewalk. For somebody who complains about being so fucking poor all the time, she sure does know how to lose something valuable.
I have no fucking patience for this anymore. I’ve given her a place to stay. I’ve kept her safe from her psychotic ex-boyfriend and still she treats me like I’m her evil stepdad.
The problem is that I don’t want to confront her about it.
Confronting her will inevitably lead to another argument, and if we fight again, she might just leave in the middle of the night, and as pissed off as I am at her right now, I know that isn’t the right answer. She has no idea what she would be up against if she happened to run into someone like Dean that she can’t talk down. There could be multiples of them.
All this thought pattern does is reinvigorate my disdain for Dr. Ryan and his crackhead goons. Now is as good a time as ever to storm the clinic, armed to the teeth with weapons and men, and find exactly what he’s been synthesizing in that lab. Wouldn’t hurt to steal all of it and sell it too, if it’s good.
With three armored trucks here at the base alone, I have more than enough weaponry to take down a skinny pretentious asshole like Dr. Ryan. Even a whole army of tweakers couldn’t break through my preparation. At this point, I have no more grace for him. I’m going to fuck him up tonight.
Finding men to go with me isn’t hard either; most of them have been chomping at the bit for an assignment like this for a while now. One of the younger guys, Damien, hasn’t even seen a raid like this before. He’s practically vibrating with anticipation as we leave.
Rolling through the streets in an armored van tends to warrant some odd looks, but most people associate them with military and will sometimes wave at us or salute when we drive past. It’s pretty fucking funny, at least to me.
“Hey, so, what exactly is the plan? We didn’t go over a plan this time,” Damien says, holding his rifle like he’s about to blast through the back door and hose down a street full of civilians.
“The plan is to look for an important-looking asshole in a white coat and fill him with bullets, but only after we’ve found his lab. We know the drugs are coming out of the clinic as the source,” I reply. “Also, you need to relax a little. We’re all going to have your back.”
The tension in Damien’s soldiers falls a bit, and his eyes grow less piercing. “Okay, good to know. Thank you,” he says, now staring out the front windshield.
It’s just a little past 10 PM, and I’m almost positive that Dr. Ryan will still be at the clinic working hard at ruining the streets of our city with a new amphetamine or whatever the fuck it is. Unfortunately for him, he doesn’t appear to be the most criminally inclined. He has the resources and the knowledge, but he won’t be able to withstand a fire fight. That’s the advantage that being a bad person has in this world.
When we arrive, I only see two cars in the parking lot: one is a rusted-out 2001 Corolla, the other a brand-new Lexus. The Corolla I recognize as being Deans, which means the Lexus is almost definitely Dr. Ryan’s. This is already going so well for me.
Just before I motion for everyone to storm the building, I see a side door fly open, and out runs none other than Dean, ambling toward his car like a zombie in a B-rated film. Damien immediately aims his weapon at Dean, his hand firm on the interior door handle of the van.
“Okay, okay, everyone wait,” I say. “You guys haven’t really seen much of this yet, but that dude is off his face like you’ve never seen, alright? Don’t fire yet. I’m not sure how many bullets it would take to subdue him in this state.”
Damien lowers his weapon, glancing at me with confusion in his eyes.
“Really, you don’t want to get too close to him, trust me,” I reiterate, hoping to reaffirm my team’s trust in me as a fearless leader and not a coward who can’t handle the impotent rage of a tweaked-out asshole.
As I watch Dean climb into his car, I decide that following him might be a better option than capturing or killing him immediately. “Okay guys, we’re going to follow this fucker to wherever he’s going. That might get us exactly what we want right now,” I say as Dean tries and fails to start his car a number of times.
After the fourth or fifth attempt, his shitty little car finally starts, and he peels out of the parking lot with abandon, completely ignoring the fleet of armored vehicles that hadn’t been there when he arrived. We follow him, and his erratic driving almost loses us several times, but eventually I recognize the route we’re taking, and I don’t like it.
We’re on our way back to the compound.
And Dean is leading us there.
I don’t know how the fuck he figured out where we were, but he’s speeding through every light to get there. His driving has the potential to draw police attention, so I relent to slowing down and trying to keep an eye on him from a distance as we drive. Him having the upper hand here is not what I expected at all.
When we arrive back at the base, Dean flies through the front gates, hitting and killing one of the guards on contact. I don’t have time to think about it before he’s slammed on his brakes, parking the car sideways in the grass and fleeing the vehicle without shutting it off.
He’s definitely on something stronger than he was before. His eyes can’t stay in one place without twitching for longer than three seconds at a time, and he has started to neurotically pick at the back of his head as if he’s looking for a spider that isn’t there.
