Page 26 of Ridin' True
“If we’re goin’ in after her, she better be.”
“She is,” stated Wrangler matter-of-factly.
“Okay. What’s the play?”
“Start with the brother. Get the whole story. Best case scenario, we negotiate.”
“Worst case scenario, we give Alvarez an excuse to start the war we managed to escape last summer.”
Wrangler buried his fingers in his hair, gripping the long strands at the nape of is neck.
They’d already lost one innocent to the cartel. Wrangler didn’t know him personally, a young colt down in Cheyenne, but it didn’t matter. War would lead to more blood and mayhem, and nobody wanted that—not if the only reason bullets were flying was because Gabriel Alvarez and his crew were on a serious power trip. The Stallions weren’t around to stroke the man’s ego with a body count. But neither were they a bunch of boys on which he could trample.
“I won’t fuckin’ leave her. She’s good, Bull.”
“Heard. Given the nature of the situation, I’m ridin’. I’ll get Mav on his hog, too.”
“Not a bad idea.”
“We’re all waitin’ on Twister’s call. I’ll clear the line.”
“Yeah. Be in touch.”
It wasn’t two minutes before Wrangler’s phone was ringing again.
This time, it was Twister.
“That was fast,” he answered.
“We lucked out. My guy was still at the station. Not to mention, it didn’t take much to tie Alexia Torres to her twin, Alejandro, via social media. As far as Alejandro is concerned, his felony conviction made it all too easy. We’ve got his last known address. Apparently, he’s been staying in an apartment listed under Felix Garcia. Sending you the details now. Meet you there.”
Wrangler didn’t waste a second. He was on his hog headed south as soon as he knew where he was going. In spite of his speed, he wasn’t the first to arrive. Twister and Bull were already in the parking lot, and Maverick pulled in before Wrangler could get off his Street Glide. With no time to waste, they headed inside without stopping for conversation—Wrangler leading their pack.
As they approached the unit they were looking for, he heard arguing on the other side of the door. Sounded like both men were home. Wrangler glanced over his shoulder at his brothers. Bull jerked his chin in response, Twister offered him a nod, and Wrangler turned back and pounded his fist loudly against the cheap, wooden barrier.
Instantly, the arguing ceased, but there was no movement heard from the hallway.
“You don’t open this door, you won’t have one soon enough,” he warned.
Wrangler counted to ten and was about to back up and lift his leg when he finally heard the lock give way. The man on the inside opened the door a crack, revealing one dark brown eye and a head full of black hair.
“Who are you? What do you want?”
His patience worn thin, Wrangler ignored his question, pressed his palm flat against the door and shoved it wide open. The man behind it stumbled backwards, landing on his backside as the Stallions made their entrance. After getting a good look at the man, he didn’t resemble Alexia at all—but the other one, across the room, was unmistakably Alejandro.
It was the amber eyes that gave him away.
He’d know those eyes anywhere.
“Where is she?” Wrangler demanded to know.
Alejandro was fidgety as fuck. He was nervous, but it wasn’t just the Stallions making him that way.
“I—I—I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You donotwant to fuck with me. Are you gonna stand there and tell me you don’t know Borrero has your sister?”
“Shit,” he hissed, pounding the side of his fist against his forehead. “Shit, shit, shit.”
