Page 39 of Trigger's Temptation

“Fine.” I agree but hesitate. “But Trigger needs to know too.”

Capone smirks like he expected that. “I figured as much.” He puts his cigarette out and pockets the butt. He’s not happy, but I’m glad he agrees.

We walk back over, and Trigger gives me a questioning look.

“I’ll explain later,” I promise.

That is enough to satisfy him for now. Once everyone is in place, Trigger steps up to the front door. I draw my weapon, and everyone else follows. “On the count of three. One. Two. Three.”

Trigger picks the lock, and we enter, sweeping the room. Derange, Torch, and Tiny follow, coming in the back door. Shots ring out as two figures approach us from the hallway. Their bodies fall like dominos. Round after round, we fire and take fire until no one else comes from the back.

Once the gunfire settles, I take in the smells around me and gag.

The living room smells of rotten food, stale weed, and dirty sex. I gag when I spot Georgia sitting on the dirty couch, her skirt pulled up around her waist, no panties on, and dried blood between her exposed thighs. Her lace shirt is torn, and tears stain her face, making her makeup run. She’s been abused and raped by these animals.

But that’s not what makes me gag. That vacant, glassy stare coming from her brown eyes, and the needle jabbed into her arm. She overdosed, and from the way her body is positioned, it wasn’t that long ago.

My fingers feel for a pulse, just to be sure. Her skin is still warm, but her heartbeat is gone. I shake my head. “She’s dead but not too long ago.”

“Fuck.” Tiny shakes his head, saddened by the news. He rubs a hand down his face.

I stand up and gently run my hand down Georgia’s face, closing her eyes. I send a silent prayer for her to be forgiven in the eyes of the Lord.

“Keep moving,” Blayze demands. As the VP, he has authority when Capone isn’t present. He stayed outside, looking for trouble.

Blayze, Torch, and Derange head up the stairs after sweeping the rest of the rooms downstairs. Once they’re out of sight, Trigger points to a door with a padlock on it.

Trigger, Zach, and I head toward the door leading to the basement. Trigger picks the padlock, and I steady my gun, aiming it at the door. Once the lock is off, he opens the door and then heads down the dark stairs. I follow, with Zach right behind me. The quietness engulfs us, and I’m on edge.

The smell hits me first. The stench of sweat, piss, and mold assaults my nose, making my eyes water. I try not to take deep breaths the further we walk down the stairs. I pray Elise isn’t down here, but I don’t think it will be answered.

Trigger flicks on a single bulb over our heads, and a deep guttural cry escapes his throat, making me jump.

Chained to the wall, wrists bound above her head, is a woman who has similar features to Trigger. Her blonde hair is dirty, fresh bruises litter her face and arms. Her clothes are still intact, which is a small mercy in this horrific situation. Herhead is slumped to the side, being held up by her arms. She’s unconscious, but her chest is rising and falling at a steady pace.

Trigger rushes forward and gently unhooks her restraints. “Oh, Elise. I’m so sorry, big little sister.” His voice is clogged with emotion as he keeps repeating how sorry he is over and over as he drags her limp body into his arms.

Tears burn my eyes, but I push them back. He doesn’t need a sniveling, crying woman right now. He needs someone strong to hold him up when he is falling.

I kneel beside them and place my hand on Trigger’s shoulder, offering comfort. He looks up at me, his sharp blue eyes are full of grief and rage, not at me but at the men who did this to his sister.

“Come on, Trigger, let’s get her home where we can have a doctor look her over, and she can start to heal.” I offer.

Trigger stands, the raw power behind his muscles flexing while he holds Elise against his chest. We carefully walk to the steps, and I lead the way, with my gun drawn and ready to shoot an fuckers who get in our way.

The music is cut off, then a loud thump and a cry of pain from upstairs draw my attention. But instead of going to investigate, I keep leading Trigger out of the house and toward the van.

Sadness echoes in the night, and I feel helpless as Capone, Seth, Pretty Playboy, and Jax help Trigger load Elise into the van. The doors shut, and three of them speed off, leaving me standing here alone. Jax stays back to bring Trigger’s bike home for him.

While I watch the brake lights of the van disappear, I vow I will end these motherfuckers. I will right what happened tonight, even if it means losing my job. No one should ever have to go through what these women have. What these families are going through.

Blayze and Tiny drag a man out of the house, covered in blood. His face isn’t very recognizable anymore.

“Who’s that?” I ask.

“I don’t know, but it’s not Lattimer,” Blayze responds, holding his gun tight against the man’s temple. His hands shake with fury.

Derange and Zach come out behind them, dragging another body. “And this one here is Jonas Mercer.”

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