Blood & Bones: Sig (Blood Fury MC Book 2)

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Blood & Bones: Sig (Blood Fury MC Book 2) Page 7

by Jeanne St. James


  “Christ,” ripped from Trip. “Yeah, looks like a whole shitload of winnin’ when you got a bad shiner, cracked ribs and who knows what else. Which I told ‘em they had every right to give you ‘cause you touched their damn property. It’d be like someone touchin’ ours, Sig. Same fuckin’ shit. Hope that snatch was worth what they doled out.”

  “You have no idea,” Sig said under his breath. Now was not the time to think of Rebecca’s red striped ass.

  Red.

  Fuck.

  “Honestly, you deserve another fuckin’ blanket party from us just like they gave you.” Trip sucked in a sharp breath. “Did my best to smooth that shit over. Dutch is gonna help by talkin’ to a couple of the elders, if it gets that far. Hopin’ it don’t, and her brothers keep that shit to themselves outta fear of Rebecca gettin’ shunned. Already promised ‘em you’ll stay a million fuckin’ yards away from any pussy wearin’ one of those bonnets. You need somethin’ to stick your dick into, find a fuckin’ sweet butt or one of those silicone pocket pussies. No Amish, no underage. You get me?”

  “She was eighteen,” Sig reminded him.

  Trip’s eyebrows shot up his head and he yelled, “I don’t give a fuck! You’re almost thirty-three fuckin’ years old. Find somethin’ old enough to grow hair downstairs. And make sure she’s not fuckin’ Amish.” Trip got suspiciously quiet, then pursed his lips and tilted his head, studying Sig a little longer. He wasn’t as loud when he said, “Now we got that straight, let’s move on to the next issue. What the fuck’s goin’ on with that redhead upstairs?”

  Sig’s mouth got tight. “Found her.”

  Trip’s brow dropped low and he plugged his hands on his hips again. “She ain’t a stray puppy, Sig. Don’t just find some random woman.”

  He was so fucking wrong about that. “Found her on Copperhead Road in the woods.”

  Trip blinked, then muttered, “Fuck.”

  “Yeah. It wasn’t ‘til I caught her—”

  “You caught her.”

  Sig ignored his interruption. “That it hit me where she was runnin’ from. Soon as I did, got us both the fuck outta there. Had to convince her, though.”

  Trip rubbed a hand across his mouth. “You think...”

  “Fuck yeah. No doubt, Trip.”

  “Those fuckers gonna come lookin’ for her? ‘Specially her bein’ pregnant like that? Think it’s one of theirs?”

  “Yeah. Thinkin’ it is and, right now, kinda hopin’ they do.”

  “They do what? Come the fuck down here and try to get her back? Yeah, that’s what we need, to keep makin’ enemies. No,” Trip held up a hand. “You’re makin’ us enemies all on your own. First the Amish, now the Shirleys, next you’ll be havin’ the pigs breathin’ down our goddamn necks by harborin’ some knocked up woman who does not belong to us. They’ll be pissed we didn’t report whatever the fuck happened to her right away. We need to keep shit smooth with them, too, Sig. Let’s not fuckin’ forget that. She tell you what happened to her? Why she’s skinny, knocked up and on the run?”

  “Nope. Got a good fuckin’ guess, though.”

  Sig reached for the Wild Turkey again, but Trip snagged it first. “Gimme a glass.”

  Sig grabbed a glass from the shelf, set it on the bar, and Trip poured them both a healthy amount of whiskey. His brother stared at his for a long time before knocking it back. When he was done, he slammed the glass on the bar and said, “She’s their property.”

  Normally, he’d say yeah, but... “Nope. Think they stole her from somewhere else. You see her shredded nails and those bruises? She was fightin’ to get free.”

  Trip’s eyes and expression went dark. “Then they kidnapped her and...”

  “Yeah.”

  “For that baby?”

  “Thinkin’ so.”

  “Sick inbred motherfuckers,” Trip barked, then poured himself another couple of fingers worth of the cheap whiskey. “Fuck,” he muttered, scraping a hand down his beard. Then he shouted, “Fuck!” to the ceiling.

  “Yeah,” Sig breathed through the whiskey fumes.

  “She shouldn’t be here.”

  “Yeah.” He wasn’t going to argue that fact.

  “Someone stole our property, we’d be out for blood.”

  “Yeah. Finders keepers, though, right? They stole her from wherever, we’re stealin’ her from them.”

  “Are you fuckin’ crazy?” Trip bellowed. “You are goddamn crazy.”

  “Know you don’t wanna hear this, brother, but we’re figurin’ this shit out. Not gettin’ the pigs involved. We’re handlin’ this. ‘Cause we’re gonna handle it right.”

  Trip squeezed his eyes shut and bit off a “Christ.” He opened those brown eyes the same exact shade as Sig’s. “Chief ain’t gonna like it, us not givin’ him a head’s up if he catches wind.”

  “If he catches wind. But don’t really give a fuck what the pigs like or don’t goddamn like. They’ve known about these inbred mountain motherfuckers forever. What have they done about ‘em?”

  “Can’t do nothin’ if they don’t break the law.”

  Sig didn’t need to remind him that they broke the fucking law when he went up there to repo a car and the tow truck got all shot the fuck up. But there were plenty of other laws that clan broke. Those pussy motherfuckers just didn’t want to deal with them.

  “Fuckin’ makin’ meth and moonshine up there, Trip, and rapin’ women. My guess? Maybe even usin’ them for breedin’ for fresh blood so all their babies don’t turn out cross-eyed and three-legged.” Damn toothless, banjo-playing, hillbilly, mountain goat fuckers.

  Sig’s blood was starting to scream through his veins at the thought of what might have happened to Red up there. And he wanted to know every goddamn thing. Because they were going to pay for every single one of those things.

  “Yeah, can’t imagine too many women voluntarily join their clan.”

  “Yeah, and you can only breed so much with your sister, mother and daughter.”

  “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Trip muttered. “She’s carryin’ one of their babies, they’ll want her back. Or at least the kid once it’s born. Doubt they’re gonna stop until they get one or both.” Trip took another deep breath.

  He wasn’t the only one struggling with all this. Sig was having a hard time wrapping his head around someone who’d use another person just for breeding. In his lifetime, he’d met the dregs of the fucking Earth. So, he shouldn’t be surprised.

  Human trafficking was a real thing. And, for fuck’s sake, he wouldn’t be surprised if Red got caught up in something like that. Not willingly, of course. With the way she looked, there was no fucking way she volunteered for any of that shit.

  And because of that, all those bastards on that mountain needed to die. Slowly, too. But that was something that would take a hell of a lot of planning. And right now, they didn’t know the whole story yet. Sig was only making assumptions with what he saw and also Red’s condition.

  “Think there’s more women up there bein’ held against their will?”

  Sig stared at his brother. “Dunno. She was naked, Trip. Fuckin’ naked, running down the fuckin’ mountain, bruised up and in a fuckin’ panic. I caught her, told her I would help her and she still fought me, that’s how out of her mind she was. She didn’t ask me for help, had to force her to take it. That’s not right.” He tapped his temple. Something wasn’t right upstairs with Red. But that shouldn’t be surprising. If she had been locked up and used like he suspected, then that could break anyone’s sanity. “She’s skin and bones and I got no idea how that kid in her belly’s still survivin’.” Especially after the tumble she took when he was chasing her. Or the hits she took to get those bruises.

  “Think it’s still alive?” Trip asked, surprised.

  “Yeah. It moved while she was eatin’. But she acts like it’s some sort of alien in there. Like she doesn’t want to admit to what it really is. Thinkin’ it’s just ‘cause her mind’s broken right now.”<
br />
  Trip sucked a breath in through his nose, then breathed out a long, “Fuck.”

  “Have a feelin’ she’s been up there a long time.” And that thought seared his gut. He’d done some long stints in prison. Some worse than others. But getting thrown in the hole was the worst. Being in a box by yourself could test your mind and your reality.

  “Well, yeah, at least long enough to get knocked up. Unless they kidnap pregnant women. Which...” Trip’s jaw shifted. “For fuck’s sake.”

  “They could be doin’ that, too. Who fuckin’ knows with those hillbilly inbreds.”

  “Should get her to the hospital. We don’t need this trouble, Sig. Drop her off there, outside their doors all anonymous-like and let ‘em deal with her. It’d be better for her. Better for that kid she’s bakin’. And better for us, too.”

  “She ain’t goin’ nowhere right now. Not ‘til she tells us the whole fuckin’ story. Not gonna drop her off somewhere only for the Shirleys to swoop in and fuckin’ take her again. Ain’t gonna happen. Not on my fuckin’ watch.”

  Trip pursed his lips and studied Sig, who dropped his gaze to his empty glass again. “Why?”

  Good question. Why? Why the fuck did he even care? Not once in his life had he given a real shit about any woman. Not once. They were all cheating whores like his mother. Why suddenly he needed to help Red, he had no fucking clue. “’Cause I know her.”

  Jesus fuck. He didn’t know why he said that. The same that he said to Stella upstairs.

  “What? How the fuck do you know her?”

  “I just do.”

  “You didn’t even know her name was fuckin’ Autumn!”

  “Yeah.”

  “You wanna explain what the fuck you mean?”

  Sig shook his head. “Don’t know how to explain it. I just do.”

  “Brother,” Trip started softly.

  Sig raised his gaze.

  “If she’s been through what we’re thinkin’ she’s been through...”

  “Yeah.”

  “That’s a lot of shit to deal with,” Trip finished.

  “Yeah.” Sig’s mouth flattened out. “Just wanna help her and...” He drew in a breath. “I found her. I’m gonna help her.” Finders fuckin’ keepers.

  “Brother, your head’s fucked up right now. You got bashed upside it with a club or somethin’ just a few days ago. You ain’t thinkin’ straight. And findin’ out you get off on beatin’ a woman like you beat that Amish girl... This chick up there?” He jerked his chin up toward the ceiling. “She ain’t ever gonna be into that shit. She lived that shit for real.”

  “Yeah. Wanna help her, Trip. That’s it. Figure out what the fuck went on up there and then help her get to where she needs to go. That’s all. Swear it.”

  “Don’t fuckin’ swear to somethin’ you won’t be able to hold yourself to. Especially when it comes to a woman you just found a couple hours ago.” Trip turned his back to Sig and stared out through the large open area of the barn. “Get ‘er story. Figure out what the fuck went down. We ain’t doin’ shit ‘til we know everythin’. Once we do, we’ll take it to the table and discuss it. Got it?” He turned and glanced at Sig over his shoulder. “You get me?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You don’t go up that fuckin’ mountain alone. If somethin’s gotta be done, then we’re plannin’ it right and doin’ it together. Like a brotherhood should. We all gotta stick together. Not just on this but everythin’, Sig. You ain’t alone anymore. None of us are. We’re stronger together than apart. Remember that. Everythin’s gotta be out on the table for this to work.”

  Sig wasn’t sure if he believed all of that, but he nodded anyway even though Trip couldn’t see it.

  “But still wanna kick your fuckin’ ass about that Amish chick. You let me know when your fuckin’ ribs are healed so I can do that.”

  Sig grinned as he watched his brother snag his hat off the bar, slap it on his head and open the barn’s front door.

  “Tell my woman to get her ass back to the house, too,” he threw over his shoulder. The door slammed shut.

  Chapter Six

  Sig opened the door and saw Stella cleaning up the kitchenette.

  “Don’t gotta do that.”

  She turned her head to glance at him over her shoulder. “Your place is a pig sty and I figured it would keep me busy while Autumn is resting and you two assholes were downstairs working shit out.” She turned and began to wipe the counter down with a sponge. She paused and lifted her light blue eyes to him. “You don’t have any new bruises, so I’m hoping you two did that.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Is he mad?”

  “He’s not happy.”

  “Didn’t think he would be. But I need to know what I’m dealing with when I head back to the house.”

  Sig tilted his head and studied Stella, who was now finishing with the counter. His kitchen hadn’t looked that good since the day he moved in. He could get one of the sweet butts to clean his apartment but then they’d want dick from him. And so far, he’d avoided any and all of them. Maybe he needed to find a house mouse. They tended to be on the younger side and didn’t spin on every brother’s dick like a sweet butt.

  Fuck. Now was not the time to be thinking about that shit. Now, he was staring at his brother’s ol’ lady and they were dealing with a pregnant woman in his bed. And right now, Stella was worried about what condition her ol’ man was in and what she’d be walking into when she returned to the house.

  “He got it honestly, Stel.”

  Her hand froze and she straightened. “I know.”

  “We both did.”

  Her face twisted and she rinsed the sponge off in the sink. “I know.”

  “He was a fuckin’ bastard.” He hated to say his father’s name, but Stella picked up what he was putting down.

  She placed the sponge on the corner of the sink to dry and took a deep breath. “I remember, Sig. I lived the same life you two did.”

  “Not the same.”

  “Close enough.”

  “You think he’d ever lose it enough to fuckin’ hurt you?”

  Stella quickly schooled her face. “Do you?”

  “Only you can answer that.”

  She nodded, but looked troubled. “Have you ever taken your anger out on a woman?”

  “Yeah.”

  Her eyes went wide.

  “Not the way you’re thinkin’. I...” Fuck. “I... find a volunteer.”

  Her eyebrows dropped low. “A volunteer? What do you mean?”

  “Some women like—”

  Stella’s hand rose quickly. “Got it. No need to explain. Consenting adults and all that shit, right?”

  Sig said nothing.

  “Consenting, right?” Stella prodded.

  “Right.”

  “And all adults, right?”

  “S’far as I know.”

  Stella groaned and turned to dry her hands off with a paper towel from the half-kicked roll that was tucked into the corner of his counter. When she was done, she tossed it on top of the overflowing garbage. “You have to do better, Sig. You have to. For him. For you. For all of us. Please do better.”

  “Was startin’ to ‘cause I had Rebecca. Now I don’t.”

  “I’m going to assume Rebecca was the Amish girl Trip was talking about. The one you got your ass kicked over?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You liked her?”

  “I... needed her.”

  “She liked... whatever you did to her?”

  “Yeah.”

  “She was an outlet.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Just find yourself another outlet. One old enough to consent, Sig. If that’s what it takes to keep you from spinning out of control, then that’s what it takes. Trip does a counting thing with his breathing. My guess is Buck’s was...” Her mouth remained opened but the words just stopped.

  “My mother.”

  Stella nodded. “Just like a gun. There’
s a trigger and a safety. One does the damage, one prevents it. You just need to find the safety that works for you.”

  Sig stared at Trip’s ol’ lady. The queen of his brother’s kingdom. The fucking woman was smart. And no-nonsense. They didn’t always see eye to eye, but suddenly he realized what Trip saw in her, how she helped keep his life and his temper level. For the most part.

  Sig no longer saw her as that pain in the ass little girl that followed her and Trip around, always trying to get Trip to kiss her. Always telling Trip he was going to marry her. Until the day it all stopped.

  That day, out of anger, Trip pushed her hard enough to slam her head into a cinder block wall, splitting it open.

  Looking back, that seemed to be the day where everything in their lives began to spin out of control.

  Stella got hurt, then Buck and Pete kicked the shit out of Trip for doing it, saying it was so he learned to never put his hands on a female in anger. Though, that didn’t make sense to Sig. He’d seen the other club brothers be violent with women and hurt them. Buck never said shit to them. Maybe it was only because Stella was Pete’s daughter.

  Because, in truth, Buck probably didn’t give a fuck Trip cracked open Stella’s head. Probably didn’t give a shit she needed stitches.

  But he had to save face with Pete.

  He watched them beat the fuck out of him, to teach Trip a lesson. But in doing so, Sig learned that lesson, too, and he worried that the person he was closest to would die before it was over. Sig had hidden behind a barrel and watched the whole thing, terrified, trying to remain quiet so he didn’t get caught. Because he did not want the same beating that Trip got.

  His best friend could hardly move for days. Then Buck visited his mother a day or so later.

  The day Razor came home and...

  And everything that had been spiraling just imploded. No one was left untouched by the mess it created.

  Not fucking one of them.

  Fuck, he needed to get out of that head space right now. He couldn’t visit the past. Instead, he needed to focus on the current problem. Which was a pregnant Red, who was currently sleeping in his bed.

 

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