Page 75 of Coveted By Cupid

The guard grits his teeth, blood bubbling from the corner of his mouth. His eyes are clenched shut in pain, but spring open when he hears me approach. His eyes grow rounder, staring at me like I’m Death himself.

Behind me, I can hear Oaks trying to calm the frightened woman and child, telling them they are safe. He’s taking care of them, allowing me to handle the sick fuck in front of me.

“Ты за это заплатишь,” the dying man seethes, his body and voice rattling in agony.

“I may not speak Russian, but that didn’t sound too nice.” Pulling the trigger, I shoot him between the eyes, ignoring the blood splatter along my face and front.

The sounds of gunfire are dying off at the pole building, the mission wrapping up.

Looking over my shoulder, I spot Oaks helping the woman and child to their feet. The child continues to cry, and the woman is sobbing with what I assume is relief.

“You good?” I ask my VP.

“Sorta,” Oaks says, sounding overwhelmed. Concern lines his face. “I think they’re fine. But I can’t say for certain. She speaks only Spanish.”

Not surprised. At our first meeting at Whiskey Wheelers, Atlas mentioned traffickers often targeted immigrant communities.

“Get them in the van. Keep talking gently to them.”

“Got it, Prez.”

The walk toward the pole building is nerve-wracking. In case anyone tries to make a run for it, I keep my gun at the ready. I hear Atlas inside giving orders to his men and groans of pain.

Inside, a group of three women and one young man cluster together with two more children. All of them are crying and speaking Spanish rapidly to Atlas.

“Estás a salvo. Nadie va a ir a ningún lado. Vamos a sacarte de aquí y llevarte a casa antes de que lleguen los federales,” Atlas says before having two of his men move the group to a tactical van outside.

“Two abductees are in our van,” I say, approaching Atlas. “The guard chasing them is dead.”

“I’ll go get them. Their family will want to see they’re okay,” Gauge says to Atlas before heading out of the building.

I raise an eyebrow. “Family?”

“The captives were all taken from the same household,” Atlas explains. “The traffickers targeted them, probably knowing they were illegal and using it to their advantage. We’re moving them.”

Christ. A whole family traumatized. The world is cruel.

“Where are you taking them?”

“After everything they went through, my medic will look them over in the safety of their home. Once we know they’re not in need of more invasive medical assistance, we’ll help them find a secure place to recover.”

“Wait. I thought you worked with the Feds. Don’t they need to question them?”

Atlas pauses with a glower on his face, as if my question has struck a nerve and he needs a moment to collect himself. “Yes, we alert the Feds after completing a mission. However, my crew helps victims, and we’re not about to let them be victimized another way by the legal system. As the product of immigrant parents, it would be pretty fucking hypocritical of me to turn over victims who are immigrants to the authorities, legal or not.”

For a hardened biker, Atlas has an empathetic soul.

Giving him a friendly slap on the back, I say, “Mad respect for you, Atlas. You’re a good man.”

He brushes off my compliment. “Don’t hit on me. My wife will get jealous.”

I snort out a laugh. “Asshole.”

We’re chuckling when Punk approaches, looking more relaxed with the mission over. “Status update: All team members safe and accounted for. Cupid’s crew members at the North and South exit points of the industrial park reported no incidents. No one got through.”

“What about the guards? Are any of them Kirill or Mikhail? What about that Riley chick? Was she inside?”

He shakes his shaved head. “Negative. No sign of the van used in the abductions either. My guess is they were nowhere near here when shit went down. For all we know, they could be hunting for their next victim.”