The Black Viper's hideout hid hideous secrets within its rooms, but it also harbored some of Casey's most fondest memories. To anyone passing by, it was just a ramshackle home that needed to be torn down. To Casey, he remembered all those nights in the summer when they had bonfires out in the backyard and danced with stars in the sky, drunk on alcohol and merriment.

Now, it only contained betrayal and bittersweet memories that made Casey sick to his stomach. The people who treated him like friends kidnapped his son and tried to sell him to perverts. That was his new reality. Nobody cared about Veronica's wrath, because what could she possibly do behind bars? Maybe she didn't even care what happened to Wyatt.

As much as Casey wished he had the strength on his own to save the ones he loved, he couldn't do it without backup. That rage from before, back at the motel, still coursed through his blood like liquid venom. Casey felt no remorse for slitting that man's neck. He hoped he burned in hell for his sickening fantasies.

"This is it," Casey said.

Emmett leaned forward, snorting. "What a shithole. Can't say I'm surprised they'd live in something like this."

Casey shrugged. "Yeah, they really let the place go after I left."

"Sounds like you were close with these assholes," Emmett remarked as he parked the car. "Yet you were never an official member, were you?"

"Absolutely not."

"Before we go in, I must warn you. We might kill people you once considered friends."

"They're already dead to me." Casey unfastened his seat belt. "Anyone who can hurt my son doesn't deserve to live. Like you said, those close to us are usually the ones who betray us."

Emmett nodded. "I'm glad you understand. Before we barge in, we're gonna get as many of our people positioned around the block. Just in case these assholes try to make a run for it. We're gonna target their vehicles first, to make it harder for them to escape."

"Okay, sounds good to me," Casey told him.

"Normally, we'd set their shit on fire, but with your boy in there and August, we can't risk it reaching them," Emmett explained before adjusting a com in his ear to communicate with others, positioned around the neighborhood. "Well, lead the way, Casey. You know the layout best. The three of us will enter first and scout the place out for the others. If possible, we'll get your boy and August out safely first before blowing the place to hell."

"There's something else you should know," Casey told him. "Not everyone will flee, but I'm sure they'll recruit backup, which I'm guessing is who that van belongs to. I don't recognize it as none of theirs. They have too much pride to disregard an attack on their hideout."

"How many hideouts do those fuckers have?" Emmett asked.

"Um, I think three. This one is the lowest ranked," Casey replied. "Veronica used to run this place. I'm not sure who's in charge anymore. I think August's supposed to be, but someone else stepped up."

"Jeez," Emmett muttered.

As they made their way across the street, Casey kept his eyes peeled for any of their members lurking around. Heart pounding in his throat, Casey pushed onward to show Emmett where they entered the place. He expected Jon to greet them outside, however, nobody guarded their hideout.

With cautious steps through the unkempt grass, Casey reached out for the door knob. He almost expected it to open with ease or detonate some kind of lucrative explosive, but nothing happened. They'd locked it.

"Stand back," Emmett instructed.

Emmett retrieved his own pistol, tucked away in his overcoat, and shot the lock. An easy and efficient way to open the damn thing.

Just as Casey was about to step inside, Emmett and Alfie brushed past him. Casey crept close behind them, drawing his gun as they made their way down the hallway. Emmett made a soft noise of disgust while treading down the hallway. Dead cockroaches.

Inside their familiar pathway, deeper into their lounging room, two men emerged. Casey barely had time to aim his gun at them before Emmett and Alfie took them out with two respective shots to the head. Blood pooled beneath their heads as they stepped over them.

Nausea coiled in Casey's stomach as he gazed around for any traces of August or Wyatt. They made their way into the kitchen, where Emmett held an arm back to keep Casey from coming any closer.

"What's wrong?" Casey asked, frowning.

"Let me check the basement," Emmett replied. "I'll tell you what I find."

As Casey took a cautious step forward, the damage to the door came into view. It was like someone busted their way out of it. Either that, or someone took their rage out on the door. So many possibilities swarmed in Casey's mind as he waited for Emmett to return from down there.

Casey knew what they did to people down in that basement. They tortured them for hours on end. They murdered them if they felt like it.

"What was August wearing?" Emmett finally asked.

Casey blinked. "Um, I-I don't know. Jeans and a hoodie probably. Why? What did you find down there?"

"The body's too disfigured to see the face, but I know it's a male. Missing a leg and a few fingers. I think they cut into his chest as well." Emmett shook his head. "It's a gruesome sight."

"August," Casey choked out, spiraling into panic.

Before Casey could descend down into the basement to see for himself, Emmett reached out and held him back. Casey tried to fight against the gang leader's grip, but it was no use.

"You don't wanna see him like that. Trust me." Sympathy crossed Emmett's face as he gently moved his hand away, clearing his voice. "We still need to find your son. He wasn't down there with him."

Wiping at his eyes, Casey nodded and steeled himself. As he made his way further into the kitchen, dread sunk in his chest. A stuffed tiger laid in the streaks of blood. It wasn't a toy that he recognized from Wyatt's, yet he couldn't think of any other reason it would be in their hideout.

With a shaky breath, Casey forced his leaden legs to carry him across the room and toward their bedrooms. He glanced behind them, as if he expected someone to emerge from the perpetual darkness of their basement.

They scoured each bedroom, checking underneath the beds and in the closets. Casey's worries only surmounted as they turned every inch of their hideout over for any traces of Wyatt.

"Where is he?" Casey asked. "If August was here, then where's the others? You don't think... You don't think they already gave him off to someone else, do you?"

"I don't know." Emmett rested a consoling hand on his back, guiding him toward their garage. "Is there anywhere else they might go?"

Casey shook his head. "I'm not sure. I swore they'd be here. Something must've happened."

The moment they descended down into the garage, a soft moan directed Casey's attention. He followed the sound, where he discovered Sierra pushed up against a jeep's tire, putting pressure on her bleeding leg.

"What happened?" Casey crouched down beside her. "You were a part of this too?"

"I'm so sorry," Sierra whimpered.

Disgust curled in Casey's expression as he pulled back. "Where are they? What the hell did you all do with Wyatt?"

"I don't know. August... He helped Wyatt escape," she explained. "I don't think he made it. Jon got him."

"Shit."

"Who's Jon?" Emmett asked. "How many of you fuckers are there here?"

Sierra craned her neck toward Emmett. "You're not the police... Casey, what did you do?"

"Where's Jon?" Casey ignored her. "Tell me now."

"I don't know," her voice came out barely above a whisper. "We heard Wyatt scream and August tried to go after them."

Casey frowned. "August was in here with you? He's still alive?"

"I don't know."

"Look, bitch. You're not being too helpful." Emmett towered over her, cocking his gun before positioning the barrel against her head. "Tell us where they took the boy and I'll let you live. You can bleed out slowly until the EMT's arrive."

Sierra shook her head. "I'm sorry, I really don't know."

With a frustrated groan, Emmett retracted the gun from her head. Her tremors only worsened as tears streaked her mascara-stricken cheeks.

"Did you help them abduct Wyatt?" Emmett asked her.

"I'm sorry," Sierra croaked. "Please."

Before Sierra could plead or apologize again, Emmett raised his gun and pulled the trigger. Blood splattered Casey's face as he registered what happened, shock overcoming his features as he reeled back.

"Oops. My finger slipped." Emmett shrugged. "So, if August was down here with this bitch, then I'm assuming this blood is also his."

Casey tried not to let the scene get to him. Seeing Sierra slumped down with blood pooling from the gunshot wound inflicted to her forehead broke his heart, but most of all, it terrified him to witness how cruel Emmett could be. He showed no remorse for killing her, even seeming to find amusement in her murder.

A trail of thick blood led outside the garage, slinking around to their backyard. Emmett followed it, with Casey and Alfie keeping close behind him. Casey wasn't sure where it would lead them, but as they neared another house, they found the blood in another home's backyard.

Curiosity urged them to follow it, careful not to alert anyone who might be inside. Casey inhaled a sharp breath, prepared for anything that might happen. Was Wyatt in there?

As they rounded the backyard, they noticed a window had been shattered out with a decorum rock. Someone had broken into the place. Emmett used his com to inform the others about their new location before entering through the broken window, gently brushing away excess shards protruding out. He gestured a hand out for Casey, who accepted and climbed in with Alfie close behind him.

They'd entered through the back, from the dining room. A table surrounded by chairs had been set for two people, with beers and frozen pizza scattered out across it. Emmett made a 'come here' gesture as they approached the threshold, where a television blared a raunchy night show talk host.

Jon sat on the couch, munching on his pizza. Hatred fueled Casey's mind as he clenched the gun tightly. Emmett motioned for them to stay put and quiet, so Casey waited. Despite how much he wanted to rush up behind Jon and shoot him in the back of the head.

Emmett's silent footfalls went unheard by Jon, who's focus remained on the TV screen. Only when Emmett yanked his head back by the mohawk and jammed the barrel of the gun against his ear did he yelp out in outrage.

"Where's the boy?" Emmett asked, lowering his face closer to him. "I'm only gonna ask this once. None of your guys are alive. Be smart about this."

Jon made a disgruntled noise before saying, "He's in the basement."

They had Alfie keep his gun on Jon while they made their way toward the basement. Casey rushed ahead of Emmett, yanking the door open with hope blossoming in his chest. Dull light flickered as Casey hurried down the concrete steps, calling out Wyatt's name desperately.

A paper plate with half a slice of pizza laid on the ground beside a cup of water. Had Casey not watched his steps, he would've tread right in it. Amid the basement, old tools surrounded him, but there was no sign of Wyatt.

"Dammit!" Casey yelled in frustration. "Where the hell is he? I'm tired of their fucking games."

"Let's head back up there and interrogate Jon," Emmett replied.

"What's that gonna do? He's already lied to us. They're not gonna tell us what they've done with them." Tears gathered in Casey's eyes. "What if he's gone?"

"Don't think like that. Not until we've got proof. Jon knows where he's at. We just gotta torture it out of the fucker."

Back in the living room, Jon waited with Alfie, who kept his gun trained on him. When Alfie noticed they returned without Wyatt, fear registered on Jon's face.

"I swear, that's where I left him," Jon said. "Maybe... Maybe my friend took him somewhere."

"Where the fuck's this friend?" Alfie questioned. "You know what I said. If they didn't come back with the boy, I'd put a bullet in ya. You think I was playing?"

"No." Jon shook his head. "Maybe check in the bedroom? They might be there."

"Jon, why the fuck would your friend take him there?" Emmett came around him, retrieving his switchblade. "Are you friends with a fucking perv? Are all you Black Vipers a bunch of God damn sex offenders?

Jon tensed. "I don't think so."

Without waiting for Emmett, Casey took off in the direction of their bedrooms, hollering Wyatt's name. He took the stairs two steps at a time, heart pounding with each raspy intake of air. If that son of a bitch laid a hand on his boy, Casey would kill him right on the spot.

As Casey reached the top, he checked each room with frantic efforts. He screamed for Wyatt, begging for him to respond. Only silence greeted him, and soon enough, Emmett came up to meet him there.

"He's not up here." Casey shook his head. "What have they done with him? Where is he?"

"Maybe we ought to check outside again? Fucker might've gotten spooked," Emmett suggested.

Before either of them could take another step, gunshots rent the air. Every fiber in Casey's body froze. His eyes remained glued to Emmett's, mouth parted slightly in shock.

Casey wasted no time hurrying down the stairs and out the front door, frantically wailing Wyatt's name. Emmett remained close at his heels, gun drawn as they tried to follow the source of the gunshots.

Blood in the grass drew Casey's attention as they crept toward the neighbor's yard, leading into their backyard. Casey pressed his back against the white exterior, mimicking Emmett's sly moves as they neared the gated fence. With gentle pressure, Emmet unlatched the gate and pushed it open.

A tall man held Wyatt in his arms, who flailed and cried against him. He had a gun pinned against his sweet boy's chest. Only when Casey stepped further into the backyard did he notice the figure confronting him. It was August.

August reeled against a porch swing, gripping the metal pole for support. Moonlight glistened down on them, illuminating August's injuries. That blood belonged to him.

"I've got a plan," Emmett whispered. "I need you to get Wyatt to hunker down and I'll shoot this asshole. My shot right now could graze him. I don't wanna risk it."

"Don't hurt him." Casey gripped Emmett's wrist, forming crescents in his skin.

"I won't. I just need him to get that gun off Wyatt. I'm afraid if I take my shot, it could cause him to simultaneously pull the trigger."

"How will you do that?" Casey asked.

"Element of surprise." Emmett smirked, before giving a code into his com.

Within seconds, a drone flew over the house. A red laser shined down on the man. Emmett gently rested a hand on Casey's shoulder before stepping out into the open.

"You've got about three seconds to let the boy go before my guy, Kaz, shoots you in the head," Emmett told him. "Now, you can behave like a good bastard or you can let your brains be splattered. You hurt the kid, I kill you. You don't let go of the kid, and I still kill you."

"How do I know you won't kill me if I let him go?"

"See, that's the thing. You don't. It's a chance of fate you gotta take with your life," Emmett explained, gently edging closer toward them.

"You ain't no cops," he muttered.

"No shit." Emmett stopped at the swingset, only centimeters away from August. "Why don't you take a better hostage? Who gives a fuck about a nobody's kid? You could take someone important. You can have me instead."

The man trembled, gun shaking in his hand. "Who are you?"

"They call me a lot of things." Emmett shrugged. "What do you say? Let's make a trade. August here will even help."

The man agreed to Emmett's terms, so they set up the trade. He instructed Emmett to relinquish his gun, so he did, letting August take it instead. By the time Wyatt was in August's custody, only seconds had passed for Emmett to turn and slice the man's neck.