In Search of Solace (Rebel Wayfarers MC)

by MariaLisa deMora

  “Made me angry. I came home and she was gone. Hadn’t made supper.” Sallabrook flexed his muscles, pulling at the restraints. “I went to her daddy because I thought she’d run home. She weren’t there.” Sallabrook laughed, breaking off in the middle with wracking coughs. “He give me the boy. The other one hitched a ride in the back of my truck. Didn’t find him until after I got up the mountain. Figured it was divine intervention.”

  Bane’s fist connected with the side of Sallabrook’s face, the club ring on his middle finger splitting open the flesh over the man’s eyebrow. Blood welled immediately, looking dark, an unhealthy maroon color in the shadows. Like the motherfucker’s poisoned, inside and out. “Divine intervention my ass, motherfucker.”

  “Ow, shit.” Sallabrook shook his head and stared up at Bane, apparently shocked at being struck. “The hell you go and do that for?” He blinked against the steady flow of blood coming from his forehead. “Shit.”

  “You still pissed, old man?”

  “Hell yeah, I’m still pissed. More so now.” Sallabrook lifted his chin and scowled at Bane.

  “Took the boys and dumped them in the barn.”

  Sallabrook’s smile smeared blood across his teeth. “Not all I did.” He turned his face to the side and spat red. “But you already know that. Why don’t you just kill me. Took my property. I can’t run the place by myself. Might as well finish the job.”

  Bane leaned close and let saliva pool in his mouth. He waited a beat, until Sallabrook’s gaze settled back on him, then spat in his face. The man smiled wider as the viscous liquid slid down his cheek.

  “I’m gonna finish it, old man. Rest assured you’re gonna die today. Slow and long, and painful.” The door opened, and he watched Sallabrook’s eyes dart back and forth, unsure where to settle his gaze. “It’s me you gotta worry about, motherfucker. Keep your goddamned eyes on me. Tell me what your plan was for the boys. What you intended to do.”

  “Didn’t ask for ’em. Figured I’d use what God saw fit to put in my path. The girl left. She left all her work to me. They were supposed to take care of the animals and garden. All her chores, seemed right to have her brothers deal with what she’d abandoned.”

  “And you goin’ after Luke? That part of your plan?” Bane slammed his boot between Sallabrook’s thighs, grinding the steel toe deep into his crotch. “Heard Thad protected him like a good brother. Then you took it farther.”

  “Boy wasn’t respectful. Boy should respect his elders.” Sallabrook’s head rocked back again, tendons straining in his neck. “Like you give a shit about trash like them.”

  A memory of Myrt swam across Bane’s vision, the fear when she’d talked about how Sallabrook owned her and could order her back. Bane had spoken truth to her about the common law lack in Kentucky, but he hadn’t known about the child at the time. If she birthed it, Sallabrook could take the child. She might not want it, he reminded himself, going over Vanna’s words in his head. Her choice, either way. Her choice, not Sallabrook’s. Fuck him. His fist blasted against the side of Sallabrook’s head again, the ring catching along the cheekbone this time, splitting the flesh to the bone and knocking blood in a wide arc.

  Rage swelled, and he ground his toe harder, pinching and crushing until Sallabrook howled in pain.

  “How old was she when you stuck your dick in her?” Sallabrook didn’t answer him, eyes boring holes in Bane from behind the swelling flesh. “Was she even fourteen? You like ’em young, don’t you. That’s why you took the boys. You like ’em young, that’s for sure.” He swung around and looked at Gunny, needing a break from Sallabrook, even for only an instant. “How young you think he’d go?”

  Gunny shrugged, flicked the edge of the window curtains back with one finger, staring out into the dark. “Guy’s an ignorant dick. He prolly can’t count to save his own ass.”

  “We should see, shouldn’t we? I think we should. You wanna go get our friend from the van, man?” He didn’t know Gunny, not really, not as well as he’d like to, because right now the man seemed steady-Eddie when it came to wetwork. Me and him, we could be friends. “You already go grab our friend? Ready to get started, brother?”

  “Why the fuck not.” Gunny kicked the door open and put one boot through before leaning down as Bane turned to face Sallabrook again, steeling himself to not kill the man fast. Needs to pay and pay.

  Bane propped the sole of his boot against the edge of the chair and shoved, pleased when the rear legs of the chair caught against a seam in the floor, tipping the chair up at an angle. Sallabrook flailed as much as he could, tied up as he was, his head flopping side to side as he tried to catch his balance.

  “Ooops, ooops.” Bane wiggled the chair, watching the man’s eyes go wide. “Watch out now.” He wiggled it again. “Wouldn’t wanna fall and—” With the tiniest of shoves, he tipped the chair over backwards, watching without care as Sallabrook’s head bounced against the rough plank floor with a solid thud. “Hit your head, huh? Damn shame,” he finished up as he leaned over the man. Still tied to the chair, Sallabrook had no leverage to change position, blood-filled eyes staring up at Bane. “You okay down there?”

  A plastic bag dropped next to Bane’s feet, and Gunny grunted. “Imma open all the windows. That shit’s gonna be ripe, man.”

  “Oh, yeah. Will be even more ripe after being bagged up like this. All sealed up so the juices stay inside. Mmhmm. Sounds so…” He glanced at Gunny and grinned, the expression changing to a grimace. “Tasty.”

  Gunny gestured at the man on the floor. “Carry on, my brother. You’re doin’ fine. I’ll get you a spoon.”

  “Gonna spoon feed you, old man. Like you’re toothless and shittin’ in diapers. Enjoy it while you can. You ain’t gonna live that long.” He pulled a pocketknife free and flicked it open, finger and thumb pinching the blade tightly. He bent and slit the plastic, flinching backwards at the buzzing noise and rancid smell rolling out of the bag.

  “Wha es tha?” Sallabrook’s voice shook, the words trembling as he struggled to get them out.

  “Your first test to see how young you like ’em.” Gunny approached noisily, and Bane held out his hand, wrapping his fingers around the metal that thumped against his palm. “You already moved on from teen to barely into double digits. Let’s see how low you’ll go.” He bent and spread the slit he’d cut in the bag, stifling a gag as he looked at the roadkill they’d picked up on their way up the mountain. The skin of the dead possum’s belly shifted slightly as he stroked a finger along the seam of her pouch. He pressed firmly, carefully teasing the opening wide so he could see the tiny bodies inside. Half were still, dead already. The others were moving jerkily, thin bodies showing bones down the spine, ribs standing out from their sides.

  “Pinkie up.” Gunny lifted a baby possum by the tail, arching his little finger high. “I got manners.” He walked to Sallabrook’s side and crouched. “Open wide, motherfucker.”

  Bane shifted to the other side of the prone man, pinching his nose firmly closed. When Sallabrook opened his mouth in a gasping breath, he wedged the metal spoon edgewise between the man’s gaping jaws.

  Sallabrook’s eyes rolled wildly, gaze first landing on Gunny, then Bane, back and forth. Gunny gripped a fistful of hair and arched the man’s neck before dropping the squirming gray-skinned possum into his throat. Sallabrook gagged and choked, yelling when a tooth broke as he bore down on the edge of the spoon, fractured bits of white joining the baby’s body. Bane yanked the spoon out and covered the man’s mouth with his hand, keeping a tight grip on his nose. Sallabrook thrashed and convulsed as Bane kept his gaze on the man’s throat, smiling grimly when he saw the muscles move with intent.

  “Yeah, seems like he likes ’em young.” He rocked back on one foot, keeping a knee to the floor as he released his hold. “Not enough to fuck, but he took that load like a champ. Good boy, Sallabrook.”

  “Another one?” Gunny bent sideways, coming back with another baby possum, this one still and
quiet. “This one’ll be less trouble. Except,” he gave it a squeeze and Bane saw something white writhing in the baby’s mouth, “it’s got a few hitchhikers. You know the old man don’t mind those, either. Already said that’s how he got his hands on Thad. Didn’t bother to let the boy’s daddy know he’d ridden up the mountain. Just took it like a gift.”

  “Gift from Satan, maybe.” Bane stared down at Sallabrook, imagining him with Myrt. Fucking her. Raping her. Over and over, her crying, tears filling her eyes, sobs breaking through her voice as she begged him to stop. Each vision burned through him, leaving only rage behind, flames that grew higher and hotter with every breath this old bastard breathed. “Gonna kill him, Gunny.”

  “Expected no less, brother.” Gunny offered him the tiny gray body. “Let you do the honors.”

  Bane gripped the man’s jaw and wrenched it wide, feeling the pop as ligaments and joints gave way. He put weight on the tip of Sallabrook’s chin and kept his mouth open, reaching for the tiny dead body. Hovering over the man’s mouth, he gave the baby possum a squeeze, gritting his own teeth as the tiny white maggots dropped, scattering in writhing clumps across the man’s bloody tongue. He kept squeezing until all that escaped was a thin drool of rancid liquid before stuffing the body into Sallabrook’s mouth. He held out his hand in a clear demand. “Give me another one, exactly like that.”

  Gunny obliged.

  It took a while, but eventually Sallabrook stopped breathing around the dead possums and vomit in his mouth and throat. His chest fell and didn’t rise again, all the fight fading from muscles gone lax. Bane pushed to his feet, staring down at the dead man.

  “What’s next?” Gunny’s voice was as matter-of-fact as if they were grocery shopping and Bane held the list of kitchen necessaries.

  Bane looked around the cabin, taking stock. He saw the bed wedged into the corner, the foot of it exactly waist high—exactly as he’d heard described in Myrt’s shaking voice. He twisted to face the kitchen, where she’d spent hours cooking for the dead man, hoping she’d make him happy enough he’d only rape her, hot food keeping his fists at bay. Bane cracked his neck and stalked to the bed. He stared down at the discolored floorboards, stomach turning as he realized what the fresh stains meant. The old man had likely raped Thad here, too.

  “He died too easy.” Turning, he saw Gunny with a gas can in hand. Bane stooped, blade in hand, and cut through the tape and other bindings holding Sallabrook to the chair. He angled another glance up at Gunny. “What say we make another stop after this?”

  “You wanna see the in-laws before we head back to the hotel?” Gunny shrugged. “Sounds great to me. I got nothin’ but time, brother.”

  “Her sister is there. Myrt doesn’t think their daddy will ever let her leave.” The man who’d sold Myrt for a few hundred dollars.

  “Won’t have a say in it if he can’t say a thing.”

  Gunny grabbed Sallabrook’s arm, dragging him towards the bed. Bane caught at the man’s feet, disheveled socks falling to the floor as he and Gunny lifted together, throwing the body on the bed.

  “I like the way you’re thinkin’, brother. We can talk to Marian first.” Bane took the can of gas from Gunny, opening the funnel and splashing liquid across Sallabrook’s body, saturating the clothing he wore and the bedding around where he lay. “Get a read on her.” He splashed gas around the cabin, kicking the bag with the dead and empty momma possum to the side. “Decide what we’re gonna do after we chat.”

  He left a trail of wet liquid towards the door and through it. Gunny stood not far off the porch, staring at the barn.

  Quiet concern in his voice, Gunny asked, “You think it’ll spread to the barn?”

  Bane shrugged, tossing the plastic can back inside the cabin. “Doubt it.”

  “But it could. Even with the rain comin’ tonight, it could.” Gunny sighed. “Let’s turn out the animals, just in case.” He turned and handed Bane a cigarette and lighter. “I’ll be in the barn, come help me when you’re done.”

  “Hell, man. I didn’t know you smoked.”

  “I don’t.” Gunny flashed a grin over his shoulder at Bane. “But I knew you didn’t, either.”

  “Smart man, always thinkin’ ahead.” He watched Gunny pass through the wide doors into the darkened barn, then turned back to the cabin. Filter to his lips, he tilted his head as he clicked the lighter, drawing deep until the end of the cigarette glowed cherry red. Blowing out a stream of hot smoke, he flicked the ember-tipped tube of tobacco deep into the cabin, keeping his gaze on the spot until he saw the first glow of flames. It was the work of minutes for the fire to grow, following the path laid to the bed. In a whoosh the covers went up, dense, dark smoke rising from the flames.

  “Little help here.” An aggrieved shout from the barn cut through the noise of the blaze.

  Bane grinned at the fire and tossed the lighter into the cabin as he turned to go to the barn. “On my way, brother.”

  They sat in the van for an hour as the flames consumed the cabin, cows and a donkey wandering through the yard.

  “You think they’re gonna be okay?” Gunny flexed his muscles, legs bent nearly double as he wedged his heels against the dash.

  “The cows?” Bane looked at him in time to see an expression of surprise cross Gunny’s face.

  With a laugh, Gunny said, “No man, the boys.” Elbow to the edge of the window, he propped up his head with one hand. “Somethin’ like this happens, can derail all the good there is in a life. They’re gonna need something to hold on to. You gonna give them that?”

  “Yeah. Me and Myrt, we’ll figure it out.” A wall collapsed, following the path of the roof from several minutes before. He watched the embers billow up and then settle down. “I got a half-assed plan for Myrt’s old man.”

  “Fire’s burnin’ low, prolly safe to say it won’t spread.” Gunny shifted in his seat. “Gotta get a whole-assed plan, brother.” He moved again, yanking on the handle to open the door. “Gonna piss. I’ll be back.”

  Bane didn’t respond, keeping his gaze on the fire, noting as Gunny had that it was dying down. It would continue to burn for a while, long enough to finish consuming everything. If a marshal came up the mountain to look at things, Sallabrook would appear to have died in his sleep, alone in bed. The donkey sauntered into view again, staring at the flames as it lifted its tail, unconcernedly defecating on the yard. “Yeah, man. It’s all a steaming pile of shit.” As if it heard him, the donkey turned and looked over its shoulder. Mouth wide, it brayed loudly. “I hear ya, brother. I hear ya.”

  He started the van and pulled forwards into the yard, turned around in the bald dirt where Sallabrook had conducted the same maneuver uncountable times. He aimed the vehicle to where the driveway entered the trees and rolled to a stop. A moment later, the passenger door opened, and Gunny swung in, landing with a grunt.

  Without another word, he drove out and down to the highway, the glow of the fire disappearing in the rearview mirror. Following the directions Myrt had offered the previous day, he turned away from town and drove deeper into the mountains.

  ***

  Bane

  “That it?” Gunny tossed a fourth bag on the growing pile in the back of the van.

  Marian spoke from inside the vehicle, her voice softer even than Bane had ever heard from Myrt. “Yes, thank you.”

  Bane leaned against the van door, keeping an eye on the disgruntled old man posturing on the front porch.

  It hadn’t taken long to determine Marian wasn’t staying at her father’s house by her own choice. They’d walked up, spoken to the old man for a total of two sentences, and Bane had coldcocked him, knocking him on his ass. Five minutes later and a half-spoken, half-sobbed phone conversation with Myrt, Marian had thrown her shit into bags, and Gunny was playing pack mule while Bane babysat Floyd Threadgill, Myrt’s father.

  “Call the hotel.” Gunny paused on his way past Bane. “Book another room for the night.”

  “I will
, once I’m done here.” Bane tipped his head at the vehicle. “Don’t let her watch.”

  “Yeah.” Gunny’s fist thumped in the middle of his back, conveying an unspoken message Bane understood loud and clear. “Don’t draw it out.”

  “Don’t intend to. That half-assed plan I had? Full-assed, brother. Full-fuckin’-assed.” He tossed the last words over his shoulder, picking up speed as he traveled, arriving at the porch steps full steam ahead, arm cocked back and ready to piledrive Threadgill’s head through the wall behind him. The old man never moved, never flinched, his gaze not wavering as he watched Bane’s fist coming closer. He dropped like a fly with the hit, landing so hard and bonelessly he didn’t even bounce.

  Bane glanced over his shoulder to see Gunny taking up most of the windshield. Reassured Marian wouldn’t be able to see anything, he pulled the gun from the waistband of his jeans and knelt over Threadgill. Each swing of his arm felt like a blow struck for Myrt. “Fuckin’ sold your kid.” Blood splattered up the wall, dark in the shadows. “Sold her to a fuckin’ sadist.” Bone crumpled at the man’s temple, leaving a black concave hollow. “Gave your boys to the same man.” Threadgill’s nose flattened against his cheek, blood a steady river down the side of his face. “Never gonna hurt her again. Never hurt them.”

  Wiping his hands on the man’s shirt, Bane stared down into a face that would now be unrecognizable to even his closest kin. Blood filled Threadgill’s mouth, and he gurgled, sputtering to breathe. Bane could leave him and the man would probably die. Lie here and choke to death on his own blood.

  Or I can take care of shit.

  He reached out, took a firm grip on the man’s hair, and jerked his chin towards his chest. The gurgling deepened, becoming more drawn out, the choking gasps slowing. “You don’t do that to family.” He kept the pressure on, wrenching at the man’s neck until the sounds ceased.

  “You fuckin’ don’t.”