They got him up, Boz and High stepped back, Hop looked to Tack but Tack shook his head once.

Then he looked at Pipe and demanded, “Talk to me.”

Battered, bloody, his head hanging down because he didn’t have the strength to pull it up, he pushed out a labored breath on his, “I don’t know shit.”

“He doesn’t know anything! Leave him be!” Naomi screeched.

Only Tack’s head turned and his eyes skewered his ex bitch.

“You are in a precarious position,” he told her, his voice low, chill, his words coming slow but his eyes were flaring. “Advice, Naomi, keep your mouth shut.”

Naomi looked into her ex-husband’s eyes and shut her mouth.

Tack’s gaze went back to Pipe. “Talk,” he growled.

With effort, Pipe lifted his head and, expending more effort, he focused as best he could on Tack. “Seriously, dude. I’m tellin’ you. I don’t know shit. I’m into them two hundred K for blow. They’re not gonna trust a cokehead.”

“You do that blow in front of my kids?” Tack’s words lashed out and hit true, stinging both targets.

Naomi peeped but went silent. Pipe winced as if he’d been struck.

Then he grunted, “No.”

“How you get two hundred K in with the Russians for blow and not do that shit in front of my kids?” Tack asked. “You do that much, you’d have to have that rolled bill permanently fixed to your nose.”

“I hid it, they never saw.”

“How you get two hundred K in with the Russians for blow and not do that shit in front of my kids?” Tack repeated when he got a bullshit response.

Pipe blew out another jagged breath and his head dropped. “To relieve a debt, told ‘em I’d hold onto some of it for them. Keep it safe before they moved it. Had a party. Someone found it. Stole it.”

Jesus, this was one stupid-ass motherfucker.

“Where would they take Tyra?” Tack asked and Pipe forced his head up again.

“I’m tellin’ you, I don’t know.”

Tack looked to Hop and gave him a nod.

Hop moved in but this time he pulled the knife from his belt.

“Fuck me! I don’t know! I don’t know!” Pipe screamed. “But I know who’ll know!”

Hop looked over his shoulder. Tack jerked up his chin. Hop moved aside.

“Oleg,” Pipe stated immediately. “Dude’s name is Oleg.”

Tack felt eyes on him and this was because every brother knew everything about the Russians and none of them had heard of Oleg.

“Do not bullshit me, Pipe,” Tack warned.

“I’m not. I wouldn’t. He’s not tight with the Russians. He’s only tight with Lescheva.”

“Then how do you know this guy?”

“I ain’t stupid, man. My neck’s on the line with these f**kers. I been watchin’ and not just Ride.”

“What’s his connection with Lescheva?”

“No clue but my guess is, he’s his out.”

“His out?”

“Lescheva’s time is up, man. He ain’t stupid. He knows that. Only one reason a man gets tight with a man outside his operation but in the family and that’s because he’s makin’ plans. I didn’t get close. I just watched but, lately, they been meetin’ a lot.”

“You know where we can find him?”

“A bar on Evans. Called The Drainpipe.”

Tack jerked his chin up to Boz and Shy and they moved out.

Then he looked to Naomi. “You’ll get the papers Monday.”

She pulled in a visible breath then nodded.

“You’ll sign ‘em.”

She nodded again.

“You’ll get the hundred K never.” Her face lost all its color and she opened her mouth to speak but Tack shook his head and whispered, “You are not smart. You’ve never been smart. Be smart now. You know I am not payin’ for blow.”

Proving his immense stupidity, Pipe jumped in.

“We’re f**ked, we don’t get that money.”

“That is not my problem,” Tack replied then he turned and headed to the door.

“What do you want done with them?” Hop asked his back and Tack turned at the door.

“I don’t give a f**k,” he answered and walked out.

* * * * *

Two and a half hours later, Chaos Compound…

There was a sick, liquid noise to it but there was no denying it.

The man was chuckling.

Fuck, they’d been at him for-fucking-ever. The man was made of ice.

They needed to break him.

Now.

“Move away,” Tack growled, yanking the gun out of his belt. Dog moved away from the mangled, bloodied man tied to the chair and Tack put the gun to Oleg’s head. “Where would he take her?”

Oleg’s eyes slid to the side to catch Tack’s and he said with a heavy Russian accent, “Go f**k yourself.”

Tack moved the gun and drilled a round in Oleg’s thigh, the man’s body jerked, he stifled a groan then Tack immediately put the gun back to his head.

“Where would he take her?” he repeated.

“Suck my cock,” Oleg spit out.

Tack moved the gun and drilled another round in Oleg’s other thigh then he moved the gun, shoving it in the soft flesh under Oleg’s chin.

He got nose-to-nose with him and bit out, “Where would he take her?”

“Eat me,” Oleg grunted.

Tack shoved the gun higher and Oleg’s head jerked back as a cell rang in the room.

Tack ignored it and clipped, “Where the f**k would he take her?”

“Kill me, I die knowing where she is and I die knowing you don’t know.”

“Tack,” Dog called and Tack pushed away from the Russian and cut his eyes to his brother. “Hawk. Says police band says that Lucas and Lawson got a lock on a safe house where they think Russians are holding a hostage. They’ve called for backup and put SWAT on alert.”

“Hawk say where this is?” Tack asked.

Dog nodded.

“Let’s go,” Tack grunted, leading the way.

“Clean him up. Clean this shit up. Ask around. Man’s gotta have enemies. Find out who they are. Then put the word out we got him available for trade. We’ll make the deal after we get Cherry.” Tack heard Dog order, probably Arlo and Tug.

But he didn’t turn.

He walked out the door.

* * * * *

Half an hour later, Littleton, Colorado…