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Chapter 22
A crisp breeze whistled through the window Zep opened in Rachel’s bedroom, carrying with it the scent of freshly cut grass and ocean spray. It was nearing lunchtime, and Zep had hoped to have the problem of Brian Isobel and his men taken care of before the day got much later. He paced back and forth in the bedroom, the lack of information grating on him. He glanced at his watch, his heart thumping a steady rhythm in his chest like a bass drum. When his phone finally rang, he started.
"Brodie?" he growled.
"Prez, the job is a bust."
Zep sat down heavily onto the bed, hoping his boys were all still breathing. "What happened?"
"The house was empty. Completely deserted.”
Zep's mind raced. How could the house be empty? "What? How did they get past us?”
“Fucked if I know.” Brodie spat the words.
"Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!" Zep slammed his fist into the headboard, sending a jolt of pain up his arm. He stood up, pacing wildly. "You didn't see or hear anything? Anything at all?"
"Nothing," Brodie said. "It was like they vanished into thin air."
"They knew we were watching," he muttered, running a hand through his hair.
“Prez, we’ve got no idea where they’re at.”
“But I bet they know where I am.”
“We’re on our way.”
Zep resisted the urge to throw his phone at the wall. How were these fuckers one step ahead of him? His boys were supposed to get the jump on them and kill them where they stood, bringing the threat under control for now. Isobel would have retaliated, but Zep was prepared for that. Sonny had sent another four men on the road to Lennox Head six hours ago, and he was fortifying their position at Broulee, in case Isobel attacked them there.
“What have you got planned, you mongrel?”
Zep pulled out the bag he’d placed under Rachel’s bed the previous evening. The bag held a collection of handguns, ammunition, a knife and some spare clothes. He took the knife and two guns, checking to make sure they were both loaded. Zep tucked the knife into his boot and one of the guns into the back of his waistband, then grabbed a couple of clips before shoving the bag back under the bed.
He could hear Scott in the laundry and joined him.
“Here.” Zep offered him a gun.
Scott put his back to him, pushing the door closed and turning the lock before he looked him in the eye. “Why do I need that?”
“Things didn’t go exactly to plan.” He didn’t want to give the cop too many details, not knowing at what point it might be used against him.
“I take it the threat level just increased?”
“Tenfold.”
Scott took a breath, then released it. He took the gun, took out the clip, studied it and pushed it back in before placing the gun into his waistband. “I trust this hasn’t been used in any crimes.”
Zep shrugged. “Not recently.”
Scott stared him down. The man didn’t back down, he’d give him that.
“We don’t have eyes on Brian Isobel and the two men he was with. My boys are on their way here, but I need you to be on alert. You know this place better than us.”
Scott’s eyes narrowed further and his physical presence seemed to take up more space. “Just so we’re clear, Page, I’m doing this for Abby and Rachel. I’m not on your side.”
Zep nodded, understanding the sentiment. "I get it, you're protecting your family, just like I am. We may not be on the same side, but our goals align for now."
Scott nodded.
