“Penny and Evan?” I forced between my lips.
“Evan’s roughed up but he’s okay. They didn’t touch their kids,” Brock answered.
Evan tried to step in.
Mitch’s brother-in-law tried to step in with the Russian mob.
He was roughed up but okay.
He could have been killed.
And my cousin put him in that position.
I continued to stare at Brock.
“Let’s get you to a couch,” he said softly, moving toward me but I took a step back, detaching from the arm I saw now was Gwen’s. I also lifted my hand, palm up to Brock who stopped when I moved.
“Tell me what’s happening to get them back,” I demanded.
Brock didn’t delay with his answer. “Tack’s mobilized his boys, Delgado his and Mitch is mobilizing the DPD. The call is also out to the Nightingale men.”
“And this means?” I pressed.
“This means Tack needs to brief me, he needs to get on his bike, I need to get to Mitch and we need to get them back,” Brock replied.
“Then do that,” I ordered. “Now.”
He jerked up his chin then Brock and Tack moved. Tack stared into my eyes as he passed me. Brock grabbed my hand and gave it a quick squeeze when he did. They walked swiftly through the biker rec room and disappeared behind a door.
I stared at the door.
“Breathe, honey,” Gwen whispered at my side.
“They’ve got my kids,” I whispered back.
“Honey –” she started but I interrupted her.
“The Russian mob has my kids.”
Her arm slid around my waist again then went tight. LaTanya took my hand again and hers went tight.
I stood still and staring at the doors Brock and Tack disappeared behind.
Bill.
Fucking with me, he fucked his kids. Fucking up his life, he fucked up his kids’.
Bill.
Bill!
I tried to protect them.
And I failed.
The Russian mob had my kids.
I tugged my hand free from LaTanya’s and lifted both. Sliding my fingers into my hair, I pressed my palms to my forehead.
“They hurt them, I’ll kill them,” I whispered to the floor.
“Let’s sit down.” I heard Elvira suggest.
“They hurt them, I’ll kill them then I’ll kill Bill.”
“Move her to a couch.” Again from Elvira but not a suggestion this time.
“They’ve got my kids,” I whispered and on the second word, my voice broke.
I felt pressure on my waist then my body was moving then I found myself sitting on a couch.
Two seconds later, the door Brock and Tack disappeared behind opened and both men came out and both came directly to me.
Brock crouched down in front of me and captured my eyes.
“Hang tight, Mara, we’ll get them,” he said quietly. “Now I gotta get to Mitch. He’s not calling because he’s busy but he wants you to know he’s on it.”
I nodded.
Mitch was on it.
Finally, I felt a little better. Mitch would never, never let anything happen to our kids.
Brock nodded back, reached out a hand, squeezed my knee, straightened then prowled out.
Tack filled my vision.
I held my breath at the look in his eyes.
Yes, very dangerous hot guy.
“I underestimated the situation. This is my fuck up. We’ll get them, chestnut, then we’ll get them,” his gravelly voice promised.
I held his eyes and my voice vibrated when I whispered, “Yes. Please. Get them.”
I understood him.
He understood me.
He nodded.
Then he was gone.
* * * * *
Mitch
“Man, let me talk to him. You know this is not a good idea,” Hank Nightingale said from his side.
“I’m on this,” Mitch growled.
Hank looked behind him at Eddie Chavez who was following.
Eddie shook his head.
Hank muttered, “Fuck.”
Mitch ignored him and Chavez, walked direct to the interrogation room, opened the door and saw Bill Winchell sitting at the table in his orange jumpsuit. At their entry, Winchell’s head came up, his eyes narrowed on Mitch and his face twisted with hate.
Two seconds later, Bill Winchell was against the wall with Mitch’s hand wrapped around his throat.
Hank at one side, Eddie at the other, Hank murmured, “Stand down.”
“Lescheva’s got the kids,” Mitch growled in Winchell’s face and watched it pale. “He went after Mara. Pure luck he doesn’t have her too.”
He felt Winchell force a swallow under his hand.
“You talk to me now. No DA. No deal. You get nothin’ except the hope what you give us keeps those kids alive. What were you into with him and what was Pierson’s part of the play?” Mitch demanded to know.
“Mitch, man, stand down,” Hank kept at it.
Mitch pressed Winchell deeper into the wall using his hand and body to do it.