Page 70 of Retribution
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Cobra
The rain sprinkledover the men as they walked down the wet pavement. A cool, crisp breeze blew through the trees, and Cobra pulled up the collar of his leather jacket as the air rustled his hair and slipped around his neck.
Gnarled oak trees abounded in the neighborhood making them the perfect shield for the bikers as they waited for Jenny’s arrival. The damp asphalt reflected the golden glow from the streetlights and the occasional appearance of the moon. The men crossed the street then stopped in their tracks in front of a fancy wrought iron gate in a gray stone wall. The house behind it was a large and imposing two-story Victorian, painted in mustard yellow with dark green trim. Grass and weeds grew between the cracks of the stone pathway leading up to the wide wrap-around porch, replete with ornamental spindles and brackets.
“This is it,” Cobra said. “Jenny should be here soon.”
“She gonna be able to let us know how many fuckers are in there?” Brute asked as he shoved his hands into his pockets.
“Yeah. She said she’ll tell Big Fuck that she’s got to let Manny know she got there.” Cobra cupped his hands and blew into them.
“Does she know the asshole deals drugs?” Iron asked.
Cobra shook his head. “Nah. She’s not into that scene. Jenny doesn’t wanna know where some of the dancers get their stash. She always tells me that the less she knows the better. I gotta make sure nothing happens to her in there.”
Cobra stared at the darkened windows and wondered which room Dakota was in. A few slivers of light filtered out from the sides of three windows on the main floor, but all the others were blackened. He stomped his feet in frustration: He needed to get inside, rescue Dakota, and punish the fuckers who’d taken her.
A low whine of a car drifted on the wind, and the four men quickly hid behind the large trees. The glow of headlights brightened the street as it approached, and the SUV drove past then parked halfway down the block.
“Jenny,” Cobra said as he pushed away from the tree and started walking toward the parked vehicle. “I’ll be back in a few.”
As he walked past the other guys, he saw Iron light up a joint, and Cobra wished he’d have brought a couple along with him.
When he approached the SUV, he heard the click of the door unlocking. Cobra slid inside and smiled at Jenny, who reached over and gave him a quick hug. The scent of jasmine perfume curled around him, and he turned in his seat to face her.
“You’re sure you’re still okay with this? It could get dicey in there. You need to get out as soon as we give you the signal.” Cobra put his hand on hers and looked down the street at the mansion on the corner. “You can back out.”
“No, no.” Jenny shook her head. “I’m here and I’m staying, handsome. I’ll keep him occupied for as long as possible while you do what you need to do to get your girl.”
Her small, hopeful smile made a dent in his apprehension. “If you can’t text me the number of fuckers in the house, no worries. I don’t want you taking unnecessary chances.”
“Okay. If you don’t get a text after a few minutes of me going inside then just listen until you hear the music and do what you need to do. I’ll be careful—I promise.”
Cobra inhaled deeply and blew out a long, steady breath. “I really appreciate this.”
She bought his hand to her lips and kissed it. “I know.”
He stared through the rain-slicked windshield at the Victorian. Between the dismal rain and overcast sky, the house gave off an ominous vibe. He glanced back at Jenny. “You ready to do this?”
She placed both hands on the steering wheel and nodded.
“Be careful,” Cobra said as he exited the car.
He shoved his hands in his jacket pockets and bolted back to the oak tree.
“All good?” Brute asked.
“Yeah,” Cobra replied. “I’m guessing this arrogant sonofabitch doesn’t have much security.”
Breaker pulled out his suppressor-ready Glock 17. “I’ll be ready for whatever Big Fuck’s got.”
“You got a silencer gun?” Iron asked Cobra. He shook his head, and Iron reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a Berretta M9A3. “Here you go. No sense in alerting the neighbors.”
Cobra gripped the gun and lifted his chin. “Time to roll.”
“I bet the asshole doesn’t even know his operations are fuckin’ toast,” Brute said as they crossed the street.
