Book 5: Going Straight to Hell

Cal

Leaving the basement and making sure at least one of my men stays behind to watch the cartel assholes we have tied inside, I rush upstairs with Tony, Sam, and Hunter with the rest of my men on my tail.

Even though the noises upstairs are muffed by closed doors and thick walls, I don’t like what I hear as I approach the bar. Frantic screams and intermittent gunfire can never be a good thing.

“Fuck,” I hiss to myself. “They seem to be heavily armed,” I inform my men over my shoulder. “Are you guys loaded?”

“I have a couple of guns with me. Armando is outside with my men,” Tony informs me. 

I don’t want to think about the possible scenarios we’re about to encounter. The rest of my men are also upstairs, but if they were caught off guard–even though I had them keeping a close eye out for any strange movement–things might be ugly.

“I’ll grab a shotgun from the safe,” Hunter tells me. “Do you need me to get you anything, Boss?”