They got changed as King drove them to HQ. On the outside, everything looked normal. The streets had turned into shallow rivers of running water as areas started to flood from the unrelenting downpour. The palm trees were bowed from the thrashing wind, and it was hard to see through the gray of the storm.
Somewhere in that building, the man he loved was in danger.
“You’re right. I am a douche-nozzle,” Jack admitted grudgingly.
King arched an eyebrow at him. “I don’t remember calling you that, but okay.”
Jack jutted a thumb in Joker’s direction, and King nodded.
“Ah. That makes more sense.”
“I love him, and I’m pretty sure before Maury called, Fitz had been about to tell me he loves me. I’m going to get him out of there safe and sound, and then I’m going to tell him I love him, and we’re going to live happy ever fucking after because we both deserve it.”
Joker clapped Jack on the back. “That’s the spirit! You go in there, rescue your man, and have babies with beautiful hair.”
“Pretty sure that’s not how it works, but I appreciate your enthusiasm.”
“Fuck yeah! Let’s do this.”
King sighed. “Let’s do this smart. With a plan.”
Joker pointed out the window behind King. “Ace and Lucky are already across the street.”
“Make no mistake, the blood pressure medicine I’m sure to be on any day now is because of all of you.” King opened his door and growled at them to move.
“He’s such a grumpy fuck,” Joker said with a big grin. “God, I love him.”
“I’m sure he loves us too.”
“Of course he does. He says as much every time he growls ‘You two are the reason I have gray hairs.’” Joker scoffed. “Like Ace and Lucky don’t give him gray hair. Besides, he’s blond. You can’t even see them.”
“You can see them.”
“Okay,” King said when Jack and Joker joined them. “We’re going to—”
An explosion blew the windows out of the back half of the building, debris and millions of tiny glass shards turning into projectiles in the fierce wind. Jack stared up at HQ in horror.
“That was my office.”
Eleven
The boom that rocked the building was unlike anything Fitz had ever heard, and he threw his arms over his head as dust rained down on him. Fear that the whole place was about to come crashing down around him threatened to paralyze him. His nerves were already frazzled, knowing Jack was out there in this storm in the hands of that sick bastard and there was nothing Fitz could do about it. Someone grabbed him, and he gasped before he remembered the only ones in the room with him were Saint and Ryden.
“Oh my God! Was that an explosion?”
Saint nodded, his gaze lifting to the ceiling, as if he could see what was happening if he glared at it hard enough. “It came from the back of the building. My guess is the executive floor or the cybersecurity department. Fuck, like it’s not bad enough the guy’s a computer whiz, now he’s familiar with explosives as well.”
Alarms went off everywhere, and the lights shut off, but unlike in Fitz’s house, Four Kings Security headquarters had a backup system. The lights returned, and Ryden tapped away at the laptop he’d taken from the armory shelf. Fitz had wanted to wait for Jack in his office, but Saint and Ryden vetoed the suggestion, insisting the safest place in the building was the armory in the basement. It was an expansive room lined from wall to ceiling with black steel shelving packed with all kinds of tech equipment, from laptops and headsets to handheld wand scanners and radios. Another wall had locked drawer units, and next to those, locked cages holding all kinds of weapons lined one long wall. Just what kind of jobs did the Kings work that would require the use of what looked like a grenade launcher? It was practically a bunker, filled with weapons and… Fitz eyed the steel shelf to his left.
“Whose idea was the snacks?”
“Ace,” Saint replied with a smile.
“Of course it was.” Fitz stayed close to Saint. He’d spent a good deal of the ride over trying to convince the big man that Fitz getting attacked hadn’t been his fault. No one would have expected someone to show up and shoot Saint with a tranquilizer. After waking up in the hospital, Saint remembered being shot at, but never got the chance to see his attacker. The bastard was sneaky and well prepared; Fitz would give them that.