His Twisted Heart by Ellie R Hunter

Chapter Forty-Two

Luca

The Haywards weren’t lying. They’re hands-on and pulling guns from everywhere, unloading the clips at men coming from every direction, killing as many as the club are. They’re just like the brothers, only in designer suits.

However, there isn’t time to admire the Haywards’ skills. Locking and loading, I inch around the van and aim at a fucker pointing his gun at the back of Angel’s head. Pulling the trigger, the shot hits him straight in the shoulder and he drops to the ground. Making my way over to him, I plant a bullet in between his eyes, and Angel whips around, eyes wide, and nods.

“Thanks, man.”

“No worries.”

“I owe you.”

“You can suck my dick later.”

He laughs, but it’s quickly cut off when he raises his gun over my shoulder and fires off a shot. A suited fuck hits the floor with a thud, bleeding out from the neck.

“Before you thank me, you can suck my dick later,” he quips, causing me to laugh.

Fist bumping, we stand back-to-back, obviously making a good team, and between us take down three guys before the hangar goes quiet. The fight is over.

Bracing my hands on my knees, I take a deep breath. It’s over for now. The relief of seeing Victoria more or less unharmed, aside from the bruised cheek, hit me so hard. And knowing she’s now safe in the van, with the assholes who took her dead as dead can be, is even better.

Stepping over dead bodies, I see Dad on the phone, no doubt to Pope, letting him know his family is safe.

“Now that’s what I’m talking about!” Ritchie hollers, stepping on a dead guy’s head as he comes toward us. “I promised you a shootout, didn’t I?”

“See, there was no need to doubt us,” Cody chimes in, and Dad chuckles.

“We need to hit this Effie bitch before…”

“Before what?”

Everyone turns to the female voice whose heels clickety-clack against the smooth hanger floor. The woman is dressed in a tight pant suit, and her hair is the whitest blonde I’ve ever seen, pulled back into a sleek ponytail. She doesn’t look any older than twenty-five.

I count six men surrounding her as she boldly walks toward us, stopping only when the dead bodies get in her way.

She takes in the carnage before looking around the men still standing, settling her gaze on Dad and Jamie Boy. Ritchie moves slowly around me—so slowly, I have to watch him to make sure he’s moving at all.

“Before you resort to threatening my life, be assured, my reach is far. Far enough that I know what each of your wives had for dinner.” She speaks directly to the Haywards, and they all tense. “As we speak, your wives are being watched by my men, a group of ghostly mercenaries that have no trouble taking out women and children. An ocean between me and them cannot keep them safe.”

From the look of shock and bewilderment on the Haywards’ faces, I’d say they’re the ones who underestimated this woman.

Ritchie springs from beside me to in front of Effie as fast as a crack of lightning and shoves his gun into her neck, under her chin. Her men move forward, a little too late, but she holds her hand up to stop them. There’s no fear in her eyes. She doesn’t even flinch.

Instead, her men aim their guns at us, and in turn, we aim at them.

“I know you want to squeeze the trigger,” she purrs, “but what would Olivia do when my men kick in your door and slit her throat? Will she try to fight back, or will she find the gun you have hidden under her dresser in time?”

Ritchie slowly steps back, lowering the gun from under her chin.

“I’m well aware you have snipers surrounding the hangar, so it puts us at an impasse, wouldn’t you agree?”

She looks down at the dead bodies once again, turning her nose up at them.

“If you continue to encroach on my territory, I will not be so quick to hand back your people alive.”

Jamie Boy warns, “We’re coming for all your territory.”

She only smiles. “Then a war is what you’ll have.”

Dad grins, baring his teeth. “Nothing new for us, darling.”

Effie boldly turns around and walks out of the hangar, not a bit afraid of an attack from behind. As soon as her car pulls away, the Haywards are on their phones, putting in calls to their wives.

As Jamie Boy is closest, I hear him instruct, “I want every man we have in the East Quarter on my family. Pick them up and take them straight to the Manor.”

Hanging up, he taps away at his phone screen and presses it to his ear. A long moment passes before he says, “Cle, don’t be alarmed, but I’m sending the boys round to pick you and the kids up. They’re taking you to the Manor. Pack a bag, enough for a few days, and don’t answer the door for anyone but Ben.” He goes quiet, no doubt his wife losing her shit, then cuts in with, “I haven’t got time to explain, but just do as I say, and do everything Ben tells you to.”

Tuning out when he starts telling her he loves her, and for her not to worry, I turn my attention to the van. Seeing the several bullet holes, I run across the hangar and slide open the door. Tor and Kyla are safe, and my neck nearly snaps when I turn to face Dad as he calls out that it’s time to leave.

I wish she were dressed in more suitable clothing, as I’d have her riding with me. Nothing is said between us, and I slide the door shut.

I climb onto my bike and start the engine just as Angel does. “I’m glad she’s safe and well, man.”

Yeah, me too.

I wait while the others mount their bikes, leaving Angel and me the last to ride out, following the prospect van.

Leaving the dead bodies behind, the Haywards’ SUVs drive out last and pick up speed, passing us with ease as we coast along.

An almighty bang erupts from behind us, sending Angel and me zigzagging across the road into the airfield. Coming to a sharp stop, flames engulf the hanger, and everyone stops.

“I guess that was meant for us?”

“Perhaps. I haven’t got time to die today. I’ve got to get my girl back.”