Page 8 of Dismantle & Prevail
“WhatdoyoumeanAries is missing?”
Boone pushes his tattooed hands into his hair and leans back into the chair, obvious stress and frustration on his face at my question.
“He went on a recon mission for the Morrison case and hasn’t come back.”
I pace the small VP office at the back of the Clubhouse. “Why did he go alone?”
“I don’t fucking know, Taylor. I’m not an Aries mind reader,” Boone snaps.
I stop dead in my tracks and glare at him. I know this is bad. Our President and head of Braveheart is gone without a trace, leaving Boone, the VP, and the rest of the clubhouse to find him, but I refuse to let him speak to me like that.
Sighing, Boone leans on his desk, his face full of remorse. “Sorry Tay. I’m stressed out and I shouldn’t have spoken to you that way.”
“It’s okay, Bo,” I say as I fall back onto the lounger in the corner of the room and pull my tattooed knees up to my chest. “What are we going to do? Do we need to call in other teams?”
Bo is about to answer when the door flies open, banging against the wall as Tuck, our latest prospect, barges in. “Boone! Where’s Aries? I’ve been calling him for two days.”
Abruptly, Boone rises from his seat, walks around his desk, and marches right up to Tuck, his hand going straight to his throat and pushing him against the wall.
Boone’s face bleeds malice. “Come barging in like that again, you will leave with one less limb. If you want to be part of this organization, you need to learn some goddamn respect, Tucker,” he says through gritted teeth, his hand squeezing Tuck’s throat tighter.
I expect Tuck’s face to morph into fear like anyone else’s does when they face the death stare of Boone’s black eyes, but he doesn’t. Instead, a small smile spreads across his face and he leans forward, kissing Boone’s nose and my mouth drops open.
A low growl rumbles from Boone’s throat as he squeezes his neck before letting go and pointing to the chair in front of his desk. “Sit.”
“Yes, sir.” Tuck has a skip in his step as he happily moves to sit in the chair when he catches sight of me. “Oh hey Tay, didn’t see you there. Did you dye your hair?”
“Mhmm. Black seemed to fit my soul better than the red.”
“I like it!” Turning back to Boone, who is now back in his seat, looking more stressed than I have ever seen him.
In the two years that I have been here, I have learned a few key things.
One. Do not come between Boone and Aries. They are thick as thieves and there is a reason they are President and VP of this unusual club.
Two. If you are lucky enough to be brought behind the curtain, that is the true heart of Braveheart, do not waste it. Trust is earned, not given. Don’t fuck it up.
Three. If you cross anyone in this club, you might as well sign your own death certificate, because the moment you so much as put a pinky over that line, the only way you are leaving this clubhouse is in a body bag.
Four. If you are granted a second chance. Whether that is to use your unlawful skills or are spared for the benefit of Braveheart, take it. Because the alternative is a nasty and deadly trip to the Bastille. Also known as a one-way ticket to hell.
Five. The men and women here have the patience of saints, but everyone has their breaking point. Express yourself. Fight for what you believe, but do it respectfully because even the most patient will break.
Boone is the prime example of number five at this moment.
Somehow Tucker always skates just under that limit with Boone, despite the crushing anxiety I know he is feeling right now.
“What do you want to do, Bo?” I ask.
Boone's fingers fly over his phone before he sets it down and pulls his long black hair into a bun atop his head. “I don’t know Tay. Everyone is out on a mission with Team Blackbird, so we’re down to bare bones. Aries was supposed to be scoping out a property, and now he’s been missing for two days.”
“Do we have a last known location from his phone?” My mind itches with the need to get to my computer and try to find this thorn in my side.
“Yeah Bo. Let Tay work some of her hacker magic.”
Boone shakes his head and sighs, defeat written all over his face. “Already tried to ping his location several times. Wherever the hell he is or whoever took him was smart and didn’t want him found.”
My stomach sinks. This man may be a royal pain in my ass, but the idea of him being taken by some lunatic makes me sick.
