Winning His War

36

Patrick's POV

Watching from the screen was nerve wracking.

The silence in Jem's car echoed in the security room. The only indicator that the audio wire was even working was the quiet hum from the car's engine along with Barrett's feint scoffs and mumbles about how dumb this plan was.

Andrew sat beside me, worrying his bottom lip with his thumb while Maverick, the guard Jem had assigned for us, sat as still as a statute, his focused on the screen and nothing else, he barely even blinked. His hand constantly hovered over the gun on his side, as if that would help Jem at all.

The angle we watched from was awkward to say the least. The camera was meant to be disguised as a button on his shirt, giving us a view of everything Jem saw but with him sitting down it made the shirt bunch up and the camera only showed his feet as he was sitting in the back seat in the dark car for once.

Not a word was spoken when the car came to a stop. Jem opened his door first, eager to get on with all of this while Devon and Barrett followed a bit more slowly.

We watched tensely as they stepped closer to the door of the old worn out bar that had been chosen as the meeting point. The second Jem's hand touched the handle, Barrett's harsh voice muttered a bit louder for the first time since they left.

"If you die I swear to god after I set your body on fire, Norse burial style, I will be burning down all of your favorite restaurants just in spite of you. Then I'm going to burn your kitchen and all the pot and pans you love so much will be ruined. And I'm taking the dogs and spoiling them in all the ways you won't let me. I'm also taking a piss in your bed. So if you don't want your stuff ruined, don't die you bastard."

I didn't have to see Jem's face to know he was smiling as the faintest chuckle pushed past his lips.

"You ruin my dogs and I will haunt you to insanity. Just because I'm dead doesn't mean I can't still throw shit at you. Haven't you seen those ghost movies? I'll wait until you're dead asleep then I'll drop spoons on your face all night until you get up and re train my dogs to perfection."

Barrett rolled his eyes as he pushed past his friend to open the door while Dev stayed as quiet as always.

The second the door squeaked open, the joking air they were desperate to create was gone.

The bar was almost completely empty. The barkeep was lazily washing glasses while a few people I'd never seen huddled around a table in the darkest corner of room. They kept their faces hidden from the obvious security cameras planted all over the place and from anyone coming through the door but Jem didn't hesitate to walk up to them with all the confidence in the world.

"How are you feeling, Kellan," Jem asked when he got close enough to the table. I watched as he put a hand on the man's shoulder. His hair was brown and messy while a light bruise covered his cheek but other than that he looked perfectly fine.

"I'm fine boss. You shouldn't have come," Kellan said with a small glare. The face he wore made it clear he was saying 'this plan is stupid' even though he didn't know the half of it.

"If you'd stop getting kidnapped I wouldn't have had to," Jem teased as he turned his attention to the other men at the table. Their hands were glued to guns but thankfully they didn't openly point them at Jem.

"Where are the others," one of them asked. He was a giant; tall and solid was the best way to describe him but that even seemed like an understatement. "Boss said two more would be with you but they don't look like the picture he gave us," he said, as he looked Dev and Barrett up and down suspiciously.