Page 68 of Paco
“I was sold to him six months ago. Before that, I was with a man who kidnapped me. I was at a party, and a couple of my friends took off to another party. I just wanted to go home, so I started walking. This guy pulled up next to me in a BMW and asked if I needed a ride home.” She cast her gaze downward. “I know. Stupid. Worst mistake I ever made.” She sniffled.
“Yeah. When you get to Cortez, you call your parents.”
“What’s your name? Why are you guys helping me?”
“We don’t fucking like sex traffickers. Let’s leave it at that. No more questions or talking.” He looked out the window and saw the van parked behind a closed warehouse. “I’m gonna blindfold you.”
“No. Don’t. Please.” Panic laced her words.
“No one’s gonna hurt you. It’s to protect you from seeing too much.” He slipped the black tie over her eyes and fastened it. “Don’t take it off. We play nice, but we can also be ruthless.”
Jigger came over to the SUV. “She’s the last one. I’ll see you at the target place.” He grasped the girl’s arms and led her into the van.
Goldie and Paco parked a block away from the West Avenue Bandits’ clubhouse, carrying two gas cylinders each.
“There it is,” Goldie said in a low voice.
The clubhouse was a one-story, free-standing cinder block building on a large lot. The next building was a block away. A chain link fence wrapped around the club, and numerous “Beware of Dog” signs were plastered on it. Without any sounds of barking, Paco surmised they were snoozing—courtesy of the brothers. Above the entrance, a makeshift sign read “West Avenue Bandits Clubhouse.”
“Not for long,” Paco said under his breath as he saw Muerto, Sangre, and Brick escorting several women, all of them draped in blankets or sheets. Chains came over to them and took two of the cylinders.
“We have to act fast. I’m not sure if they’re going to come out and check why their security cameras are scrambled. Even though Knuckles and Brick have been doing it for the past few days, you never know.”
“Let’s go.” Paco moved quickly inside.
“Are all the women out?” Goldie asked, placing the cylinders in different spots in the room.
“Yeah,” Roughneck said as he came in behind them. “We’re good to go. Let’s blow up this motherfucking building.”
Chains, Paco, Goldie, Roughneck, and Patriot placed the propane bombs in all the rooms while Diablo, Tequila, and Knuckles set a few pipe bombs around.
“Let’s get the fuck outta here,” Paco said. The timers on the bombs were set to go off in eight minutes.
“You know what to do,” Paco said to Jigger, who was closing the van door. “Were all of them trafficked?”
“That’s what Muerto and Sangre said. A couple of them are in their early twenties, but the rest are under eighteen. Fuckin’ perverts.” He stomped out his cigarette butt.
“Easy. You still got shit to do. I heard Diablo’s going with you.” Paco glanced at the time on his phone.
“Yeah, he’s coming now.” Jigger went around to the driver side. Cueball waited inside, scooting over when Diablo opened the passenger door. “See ya.”
Paco nodded, then made his way to the SUV. There was enough force in there to demolish the clubhouse. The plan was that the Night Rebels would stay a couple of days to make sure there wasn’t any retaliation the Fallen Slayers couldn’t handle. If they were correct in their assessment of Los Malos and the West Avenue Bandits, the Bandits would think Los Malos double-crossed them, especially when they found the women missing. Trafficked women were worth a lot of money, and greed was what propelled the dark and tormented world of sex slavery.
“Let’s take a spin by Bustos’s house,” Paco said to Goldie.
“Why? The pansy ass split. We were gonna hit him tonight too.”
“I know. I just thought he may be hiding out in his house.”
“Nah. Knuckles, Patriot, and Roughneck were pretty sure he left. They checked out the strip bar, and some of the women there said he’d taken off a couple of days ago.”
“That seems strange. There’s no way he even suspected what was going down. I wonder what made him take off.”
“Maybe he’s headed to Alina for Chelsea. You said her fuckin’ pimp is there, and the fucker sold her to Bustos.”
Ice ran in his veins as fear seized him. Not once so far that night had he felt fear. Adrenaline and hate pushed him through the mission, but fear never entered the picture. Now it crawled up his legs, poked at his brain, and splintered his heart. If Victor got a hold of Chelsea, he’d crush her, bone by broken bone.I can’t let it happen.He was afraid for her, and for him. He cared deeply for her. He’d been lying to himself to protect his heart, but what he realized was that she’d had his heart ever since the truck stop.
Kaboom! Boosh! Kaboom!
“Right on time,” Paco said as he looked over his shoulder. A rising ball of blackened orange-red flame shot up into the dark sky, billowing outward. As they pulled into the Fallen Slayers’ compound, the wail of sirens echoed behind them.
Goldie got out of the car and looked at Paco. “Aren’t you coming in?”
“Give me the keys. I’m gonna head back to Alina. I should be there in case the club is targeted. We got most of the brothers here.”
Goldie threw him the keys. “I’d go too if I thought my woman was in danger.”
Paco climbed into the driver seat, switched on the ignition, and drove away from the clubhouse, his heartbeat thrumming in his temples.
