The Killing Ride

by Michelle, Christine

  I remember my dad had gone to help out the Tallahassee Chapter a few years back when their club Prez ran off with one of the whores and all the club’s money. “Let’s get them locked up and give Ghost a call. He needs to be here for anything that happens with this one,” Crusher stated. The remaining guilty bastards didn’t even put up a fight. They knew it was over.

  “You okay with us taking our man home to face the music?” Sandman asked Crusher.

  He tipped his chin up. “Go ahead and get him back. We’ve got this.”

  That was all Sandman needed to hear. It was time to take Crow home to face a little bit of Aces High justice. I shook my head in disbelief as we moved to where Crow was still tied up in the back of the van that the prospects would be driving him home in. The guy had been around the club since before I was born. I didn’t understand how someone could pledge their loyalty to the club for so many years and then fuck it all over in the end. What the hell had driven him to this point? I didn’t know. Hell, maybe I never would, but I damn sure planned to be part of the party who found out.

  Chapter 13

  Cleaning House

  J-Bird

  Missing out on what was about to go down with Crow, once we returned to South Carolina, wasn’t an option. My father braced a hand on my shoulder to keep me from going down into the room that was specially made for times such as these.

  “Are you sure you want to be there?”

  “Why the fuck wouldn’t I?” I asked, not understanding why he would even attempt to keep me from seeing this through since I was the one sent to bring Crow home to face club justice.

  “Son,” he started as he gave my shoulder another rough squeeze. “You’re going to hear some things down there.”

  “It doesn’t matter what I hear. Justice needs to be served and I need to be there for that.” I shook his hand off my shoulder. “I was there, in Jacksonville. I know what he was up to, saw it personally, and I’ll be damned if I bitch out now just because Crow might bring up some shit from the past.”

  “Jason,” my dad tried again, using my given name for the first time since I could remember.

  “No! I want to be there,” I argued before he could state his case again.

  “Fine,” he sighed out as he caved and stepped away from me, allowing me entrance to the world of pain that awaited Crow below. I didn’t expect to see what I did when I got down there though. Crow was trussed up to a chair, ankles cuffed and chained to bolts in the floor while his arms were tied to the wooden arms of the seat he occupied. He was already looking worse for the wear, and it was obvious someone had started in on him before I could get down here. I glanced over to Sandman who shrugged at me then tipped his head to Double-D.

  “What the fuck were you thinking? How the hell could you betray the club?”

  Crow spat blood out at Double-D’s feet as he scoffed. “Like the club didn’t betray me first, and for a piece of gash at that.”

  “Piece of gash?” Double-D question before it dawned on him just who Crow was referring to. Before he could lay into Crow, I grabbed the man who was a surrogate father to me and held him tightly.

  “No, man. That’s just the response he’s looking for. Crow wants out of this quick and easy. Don’t give it to him.” Double-D stilled in my arms, but I didn’t let go until I felt his tensed muscles begin to relax. He nodded as he slid off to the side.

  “I’ll kill him quick if I get my hands on him,” he growled. “You’re going to have to take point on this,” he instructed me. Sandman was there too, but he stood off to the side, just watching.

  “You okay with that?” I asked the man who had taken Double-D’s place as VP when he stepped down.

  “I think it’s the best idea anyone’s had since we got back,” Sandman informed me. Though he was grinning as he said it for some reason. There wasn’t time to figure out his agenda in all this, so I ignored it, tuned out the rest of the room and focused in on Crow.

  “You want to elaborate on how we betrayed you first, because I seem to recall you got the same punishment the rest of us did.” I rolled up my sleeve and showed off the tattoo that still rode my arm, waiting for me to discover deeper meaning within the script inked there.

  He spat at my feet. “Same fucking treatment, huh?” He rolled his eyes and started chuckling which promptly led to a coughing fit thanks to the damage Double-D had already done to him. “Where’s PeeWee?” He asked me.

  “How the fuck should I know?” I asked while shrugging my shoulders.

  He laughed again, ignoring another coughing fit as he did so. “They never told you, huh? Some best friend you had!” That had my hackles rising. What the fuck kind of bullshit was he about to spew? My eyes slid to the side, taking in Double-D, who had tensed once more from his position off to my right. “Wonder what old J-Bird’s gonna make of the mess you Brothers created? Do you think he’ll put you in this chair next?” He was talking to Double-D. What the fuck? That was a bold question.

  Double-D scoffed and then he turned a shit-eating grin on the man being held captive in the chair. “I think you better start praying for mercy, because when he finds out it won’t be me, he’s gunning for.” With that, Double-D turned to leave, signaling something to Sandman as he went. “I’ll watch from the cameras so I’m not a distraction.”

  “You seemed pretty gung-ho, wanting to fill me in on shit I missed, why so quiet now?” I asked as Crow scowled at the door Double-D had moved through moments ago. He turned his beady mud-brown eyes on me then.

  “Your club brother, your supposed best friend, he killed PeeWee. Killed a club brother in cold blood, and he still got to walk around here wearing that kutte of his and pretending like he didn’t take a club life. All because of who his daddy was. He never told you. Wonder what else he was keeping from you. Do you ever wonder what the hell else this sack of shit club might be hiding? Ever tried to figure out when your time with them might be up?” He chuckled briefly then. “Nah, you’ve never had to worry about it because you got club family, and then you got blood running the place. You’ll be just like him. Just like that piece of shit brother of yours. Well, just keep this in mind pretty boy, your club brother was brought down by a plan I hatched. You can be too. You all aren’t above club justice either.”

  Sandman stiffened from his position where he’d been lazily leaning against the wall. I came up short, fists clenched. “What the fuck did you just say?”

  “You heard me,” he spat the words at me in angry clatter of noise that bounced along the walls and came back to me in echo as his implication really began to sink in. I couldn’t hold it back then. My fist met his closed jaw and knocked his head to the side with a solid thud. I wouldn’t feel my knuckles until much later. My anger dulled the pain as I hit him again, coming up from beneath his jaw and snapping his head back with a thawing sound that volleyed around the room.

  Suddenly, Sandman was at my side, hand on my arm, stilling the next blow before I could land it. “Easy,” he whispered. His voice a calming balm to the wound that had just been ripped open in my chest. “This is important. Remember what you just told Double-D. He can’t get off that easily.” His words remained whispers in my ear that didn’t extend to Crow. The man actually leaned forward as if we would let him on the secret, one-sided conversation we were having. My lips kicked up at the corners as I planned out exactly how I was going to extract every piece of information from the fallen brother before me. One glance at the ink he wore gave me the inspiration for my starting point. I was going to hit him in a couple places that would hurt, and I was doing it all at once.

  I slid to the side, away from both Sandman and Crow. There was a table set up with a few instruments on it that might help convince a man to talk. I stared at all of it for a solid few minutes before I chose the one I needed. It was a fine tipped metal tool. I had no clue what it would be used for in everyday life, but in here, it was about to become the one I used to write Crow’s story of betrayal all over his body.
I took the small butane torch off the table as well. The long, pointy, metal object has a wooden handle that would come in handy the moment I put the pointy tip to the flame.

  I glanced over to Sandman and wiggled the unknown tool in his direction. “What the hell is this thin anyway?”

  Sandman cracked up and shook his head. “Fucking young people!” He commented before grinning at me and making a stabbing motion. “It’s a fuckin’ ice pick.”

  “No shit?” I asked.

  “You have got to be kidding me,” I hear Crow mutter as he eyed me warily, watching as the tip of the ice pick started glowing red hot.

  “No, but I’ll tell you what, you talk. I’ll listen. You don’t talk, I’ll get creative with this here molten hot ice pick.”

  “You didn’t even know what the damn thing was,” he teased as if we were still brothers. He spoke as if I still looked at him like he was the uncle I once thought of him as. All of that was gone now as I moved closer to him while keeping the tip of the pick in the flame. Crow had already been relieved of his kutte. It was hanging on the wall behind him. He had also been relieved of all but his boxer shorts. His chest and abdomen, that had once been his pride and joy, were looking a bit flabby these days.

  “Tell me, Crow, what was it that you wanted me to hear so bad?”

  “You really want to know how your brother, Toby, betrayed the club?” He hissed out at me. Surprisingly, I didn’t flinch at hearing T-Bone’s name. Instead, I focused on the tattoo that marked the man from wrist to elbow. It was such beautiful work, and it would be a damn shame to destroy it, but the man didn’t deserve the ink that marked him. It had meant nothing to him. That much was obvious considering he’d referred to Ever as ‘gash’ a few minutes ago. Without any hesitation I barely kissed the tip of the ice pick to the very top of the tattoo. Crow’s hissed intake of breath let me know he felt it, and then I removed the blazing metal from his skin.

  “I really want to know,” I told him as I stared straight into his soulless eyes.

  “He tortured and killed PeeWee.” His admission caught me off guard because I’d been under the impression that PeeWee had left the club on bad terms, but that he had left alive. My eyes drifted over to Sandman for confirmation. He nodded once, almost imperceptibly. It was enough. That much of what Crow had to say was true.

  “Why would he do that?” I asked.

  “I don’t know. Ask him,” he stated snidely. I immediately took the ice pick back away from the flame and slammed the hot end flat against his cheek. The sizzle and pop of his skin on contact faded before I pulled the pick away. Skin came with it, but I just ignored that fact and let the flame burn the remainder of it away as it was kept nice and hot once more.

  “I’d love to ask T-Bone, but as you already said, he isn’t here any longer. So, I’m asking you to set the record straight. Mouth off again before providing me with enough information to make me believe he deserved your derision, and I will continue to mark you.”

  Crow glanced warily at the ice pick once more. His muscles twitched, and I knew he was itching to touch the singed skin across his cheek. “I don’t know why he did it. I just know that he was down here torturing him. Know he was the only one down here when PeeWee took his last breath, and I know that he was the one that disposed of the body.”

  “How do you know all this?”

  “Because I fucking saw it happen on the cameras before the video conveniently got wiped,” he admitted.

  I nodded to him. So, you watched PeeWee being tortured and you didn’t try to go help him?”

  “It was too late,” he lamented. “By the time I got there, T-Bone was pulling his body out of the torture room.”

  “Are you sure you don’t know why T-Bone had him down there to begin with?” There was a twitch in his right eye as I asked the question.

  “No, I don’t.”

  “Aww, come on, do you think I’m stupid?”

  “You’re the one who didn’t know what an ice pick was,” he razzed.

  “True, but you know, my generation doesn’t really need to use them. We have crushed ice right out of the freezer door.” I glanced down at the red tip of the tool he spoke of. “I’m thinking it has better uses anyway.” I flicked it against the opposite cheek to the one I had burned previously. It gave Crow a matching line of scarred, charred flesh.

  “Fuuuuck!” Crow managed to get out through gnashed teeth.

  “Now, tell me why PeeWee was down here with T-Bone.”

  “T-Bone heard a rumor about what PeeWee had been saying to Ever.” That got my attention. I knew he had been more than just mean to her. The night of the tattoo unveiling, she had made mention that he used to say horrible things to her, but Ever wouldn’t tell what those things were.

  “Someone ratted him out?” I asked when he didn’t offer up anything else.

  Crow shook his head gently. The back and forth motion must have pulled at his tender wounds because he hissed out before speaking again. “Deck overheard him saying something to the cunt.”

  “The cunt?” I asked as I glanced at the artwork she had inked into his flesh.

  “Yeah, the fucking cunt. She caused all this shit to happen to your brothers.”

  “Nah, she really didn’t. You fuckers did by treating a kid the way you did. I did, by not trusting her. You betrayed your club and she was nowhere in sight. Did she have you at the end of her scope when you were making deals behind the club’s back?”

  His eyes narrowed down on me, trying to pin me in place. I just grinned. “Tell me, what do you think T-Bone deserved for his part in getting rid of PeeWee for the club?” I asked, purposely making it known that I thought it was for the good of Aces High that it happened.

  “The good of the club?” He roared.

  “Yeah, that’s what I said,” I reiterated.

  “No. It wasn’t for the good of the club, and that fucker got exactly what he deserved. He got the same death that PeeWee was dealt. A life for a life. Brother for a brother. Same fuckin’ justice that would have been served if another club had been responsible for taking a brother from us.”

  “Except another club wasn’t responsible, and you had someone else do your dirty work for you.” I leaned in close so that our noses nearly touched. “And you took the life of a club baby too.”

  “I didn’t take no lives.”

  “You claimed you made sure it went down earlier. Life for a life. Remember your words?”

  “Yeah, I fuckin’ put the plan into motion, but she was supposed to just take T-Bone out.”

  “Well, she got more than she bargained for, huh?”

  “Good.”

  The hot tip of the ice pick traced down the middle of his forearm from the tip of the tallest feather to the baby crow near his wrist. There, I stabbed the heated tip down into the skin, as if puncturing the baby’s heart.

  Crow jerked and sputtered. It wasn’t the physical pain that he was trying to wrench away from. The symbolism was there. “Life for a life,” I muttered. You weren’t worthy of this kid, but you had another one. Where do you suppose that one is hiding these days?” I’d never hurt or kill a club kid. Hell, I’d never hurt any kid for that matter. His child was no longer a kid, but that didn’t matter. They were still off limits. Crow may be disgraced, but his family left him before he fell. Hell, maybe they left him after seeing he was already on his way down. Either way, it was an empty threat, but I didn’t think he realized that just yet.

  “You wouldn’t!” He declared. I simply raised a brow up as if to question him back. “They’re family. No matter what I did, my kid is still club. Still protected.”

  “Yeah?” I asked. He nodded his head emphatically.

  “I seem to recall you thinking that Ever didn’t fall under that protection, even when she was your VP’s kid.” I watched as something dimmed in his eyes. Hope, maybe. “You just admitted that you had something to do with T-Bone’s death. He was both club kid and club brother.” Whatever light had
been there before was completely snuffed out as Crow stilled, realizing I’d just used his own actions to justify taking the life of his only surviving child.

  “Do your worst to me but leave my family alone.”

  “I’m going to do my worst to you, but I won’t rest until every trace of DNA you passed down is eradicated from this earth, unless you spill everything, now. I want to know what was going down in Jacksonville, and I want to know what the fuck you arranged for T-Bone.” I’d left the ice pick out of the flame too long and it had since grown cold enough that the tip no longer held the amount of heat I would have liked. I started running the thing through the flame again as I waited for him to decide if he’d forfeit his kid for his silence or if he was at least still honorable enough to take care of his responsibilities.

  He sat silent for too long though, so finally I pulled the ice pick out of the flame and started tracing the letter “T” into the top of his forearm, near his elbow, where the tattoo Ever had inked there ended. He screamed as the flesh burned and I dug the tip in further to make the mark that much more extreme. “Imagine me doing this to your kid,” I whispered so that he would have to pay close attention to hear me. He heard.

  “Fine!” He yelled in my face, the rancid breath of a man who had eaten takeout and hadn’t brushed his teeth for at least a full day since nearly had me gagging. I stepped back and waited for the rest of his story to spill.

  “I knew T-Bone was responsible for ending PeeWee. I knew it was done because of his cunt of a sister,” he added with narrowed eyes locked onto my own. My vision never wavered as I stabbed the pick through the fleshy part of his arm and removed it in torturously slow increments, making sure to wiggle it just enough to hurt all over again as I pulled it free. “I saw the girl watching him. Knew he’d taken her, at least for a blow job, and saw that she was fixated. I promised her he could be hers. Then I showed her that he never would be.”

  “What do you mean, you showed her that he never would be?”