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Once he returned from this solo trip, he’d suggest the team sit down and reevaluate their tactics. Maybe they needed a way to obtain explosives for themselves. Grim was an explosives expert after all, he would know how to handle them. Having the Chens’ or Russos’ businesses or homes being blown to smithereens would, hopefully, force at least one of them to react.

As long as that response wasn’t toward the Shadows or the DAMC.

“For fuck’s sake,” he muttered as he slung his rifle case over his back and quickly picked the padlock on a rear door of what looked like an abandoned warehouse.

Finding buildings that he could access easily was another issue. The problem was, most had security systems that included cameras. Finding a place to set up without any system was already rare enough, but within the targeted vicinity, it was searching for a needle in a haystack.

Unfortunately, he couldn’t find much information on this particular building other than it being a former textile warehouse that had been closed down for the last twelve years. “No trespassing” signs were posted all over the walls and door, the bottom windows were boarded over, and a few of the upper level windows were busted out.

He shoved the door open wide enough for him to squeeze through and stepped into the pitch-black interior. Once he slipped a high-powered tactical flashlight from his pants’ cargo pocket, he lit up the area around him.

Yep. Just what he expected: a deserted warehouse.

Debris was scattered all over the floor, maybe from squatters, and dust particles visibly floated through his light beam. The smell of urine and feces assaulted his nostrils.

Since all was quiet, the squatters must have moved on.

He trekked carefully through the mess and looked for a way up onto the roof.

He stopped a few yards in and, holding the flashlight, turned in a circle to get a better look at the layout. He finally spotted a metal staircase in one corner of the building leading up to what might have once been an office. As he pointed the light beam in that direction, he also noticed more stairs heading from the landing up another level. And at the top was a doorway that would most likely give him roof access.

He carefully worked his way over there, then hauled his ass up the first flight of steps. At the first landing, he paused and using the flashlight, took another sweeping look over the warehouse floor below him. Once he saw it was clear, he then turned to climb the next flight of stairs.

Unfortunately, he never made the first step.

For fuck’s sake. Not again.

The back of his head was throbbing. It could even be bleeding but he had no way to check.

Fuck these goddamn crime families.

They’d been waiting for him.

How?

How did they know he’d be there?

He was a state away from Vi and the rest of his team. Or even the MC.

He lucked out by not being killed immediately by the Russos. But then, he had some value to them. He wasn’t sure if he’d have the same value to whoever now had him hanging like a fucking side of beef from a chain in the abandoned warehouse.

His shoulders were screaming. His spine locked up. His hands were numb and he swore his brain had been scrambled.

Jesus. The one time he didn’t bring Vi along.

He needed to get a message to her but had no way to do so.

He was helpless.

Alone with no backup.

And screwed.

Well, he’d had a good run, but now his expiration date had arrived.

Not only was his head pounding but his eyeballs were, too. He wouldn’t be surprised if he had a concussion because whatever was used to knock him out had hit him hard. Obviously.

The warehouse was still dark, except now his own high lumen flashlight was pointed straight at him. Of course, it was blinding and didn’t help his headache.