Swing (Tidals & Anchors MC #1)

by Yolanda Olson

  “What?” I asked in confusion.

  Red nodded toward the floor behind me, causing me to turn slightly.

  “Holy shit.”

  There was a small pool of dried blood that looked smudged, almost as if a body had been dragged through it. I crouched down and looked at it trying to determine if it was too much blood, but decided that someone actually had Swing and he could possibly still be alive.

  “Do you think Pardon got here first?” Breaker asked me quietly.

  “What’s that old bastard got to do with my boy?” Leon asked jerking his head up. I looked over at him and saw his eyes were red and the tearstains on his cheeks.

  “We gotta find Swing. Worrying about that shit now isn’t going to help him,” I said to Leon. I got to my feet and looked around, “Anything left behind that can tell us where the hell he is?”

  “Didn’t get a chance to look,” Red replied, glancing meaningfully toward Leon.

  “Right. Alright, look around and see what you can find. I’m gonna try his phone and see if he answers,” I said, heading outside.

  “Dallas.”

  The tone in Leon’s voice stopped me. I turned around and waited while he came over to me and nodded out the door. He looked so damn tired and sad, that it made me feel like shit. Like I had set up Swing to be taken even though I knew it was the exact opposite. Me trying to save him got him fucking kidnapped and now I had to explain to his father what was going on.

  “What’s Pardon got to do with this?” he asked again, his eyes trained on the night sky.

  “Leon, I promise I’ll tell you everything once we find Swing. I can’t waste time on this right now. I need you to understand that I had nothing to do with whatever happened here and I’m hellbent on finding him in one piece,” I said, pulling out a cigarette and hitting dial on Swing’s number.

  “Fuck,” I said after a while.

  “What?” he asked, looking at me.

  “It went to voicemail.”

  No sooner had I said that than a text message came through.

  TURN ON THE MOVIE I LEFT FOR YOU.

  “Stay here,” I instructed Leon as I raised an eyebrow and went back inside. I sat down on the couch directly across from Swing’s television and picked up a couple of remotes to get to where I needed to be. Once I hit play, the room became quiet as everyone crowded around me to see what was going on.

  Someone was messing with some kind of digital recording device. Then a pretty, young thing with her hair pulled back and white mask over her face. I could tell it was a female by the shape of the body.

  “Hello!” she said brightly into the recorder, with a wave. She used some kind of voice distorter, but that was definitely a chick. “If you’re watching this, then I’ve done the first part of my job. I’ve got the guy that shot and killed someone that I love, and I’m going to kill him. The reason I’m making this movie is because I want you to know why he has to die. Oh and I wanted you to watch this,” she said as she disappeared from view. A few moments later, the grunt of her efforts was heard as well as the sound of something dragging.

  You could see Swing’s arms as she dragged him into the view of the recorder. She left him alone in the living room then disappeared for a moment before returning with a few towels. We watched as she placed them meticulously on the couch and then hoisted him up onto it. Unconscious, bleeding, unaware of what was going to happen to him.

  “Now,” she began again, as she sat on the edge of the couch. “When this man shot this person, I was still on the phone. They told me that they felt like they were being followed, so I told them to put the phone on mute and leave me in their pocket. Do you know what he said to them? ‘I’m sorry.’ For taking their life, all he could say was ‘I’m sorry.’” She wiped bitter tears away under her mask and looked away for a moment. “I lived too far away to do anything and I couldn’t prove that the person was killed because there was no body. What did you do with the body?” she shouted at him, punching him in the chest.

  We watched her take a series of steadying breaths before she looked into the camera again. “I’m not going to shoot him if you’re wondering. That would be too kind. What I am going to do first however, is humiliate him on camera, before I hand him over to the person that hired me to grab him. And then we’ll kill him together, because unlike that person whose life he took, he deserves to die.”

  I sat back against the couch and watched her get to her feet. I wasn’t sure I wanted to see what was going to happen to him, but if there was any chance of finding him, I’d have to sit through this and see if there were any clues.

  “What the fuck,” Breaker said, when the masked assailant pulled Swing’s jeans down and started to jerk him off. “She’s not gonna do what I think she’s gonna do is she?”

  “Keep Leon outside. He doesn’t need to see this shit,” I said putting my face in my hand.

  “Don’t look away,” her voice sang out from the television. “You need to know what it’s like to have someone you love get hurt.”

  I glanced up, gripping both controllers tightly in my hands as she pulled her shorts and leggings off, followed by her panties and mounted him.

  I felt sick to my stomach. Nero was a big guy and I never in my life thought I would have to witness his fucking rape, because that’s what this was. He wasn’t awake, he wasn’t consenting to it, and this crazy bitch was riding him like she was trying to break in a wild horse.

  “Dallas!” Breaker called out urgently. I looked up and saw Leon pushing past him, so I threw both of the controllers through the television as hard as I could.

  “What the fuck happened?” he asked, looking from me to the shattered TV.

  “Nothing. We have to go. Now,” I replied, getting to my feet.

  “Check this out,” Abraham said, coming toward me. We called him “Honest” for obvious reasons.

  I took the envelope he was holding out and flipped it over. There was a phone number scrawled on the back of it and I raised an eyebrow.

  “Did you try calling it?” I asked him.

  “I just found it,” he replied, shaking his head.

  “I’m going to go back outside and call this number. Clean this shit up for me and take that DVD. Get someone out here to clean up the blood,” I directed as I walked out the front door again.

  I decided to head down the street because I didn’t want to take the chance that whoever the crazy chick was would answer, and Leon would come out. It would force me to hang up and I didn’t know if she would answer again.

  Once I reached the end of Swing’s block, I sat down on the curb and lit another cigarette. It was going to take everything in my power to stay calm during the phone call, provided that she answered. I didn’t know how I knew it was her phone number; I was just banking that it would be.

  “Here goes nothing,” I said to myself, holding up the paper in the same hand as my cigarette and dialing with the other. I took a deep drag and let it out in a huff as the line began to ring.

  “Hello?”

  I knew it, I thought as a female answered the line.

  “Where’s Nero?” I asked.

  “You mean Swing? He’s a bit tied up at the moment,” she replied.

  “Listen you fucking psycho. If you hurt him, I swear to God, that what he did to whoever the fuck pumped you up to do this, will look like a dream compared to what I’ll fucking do to you,” I warned through grit teeth. There was no use in trying to keep my cool; she was nuts and she had every intention of ending my best friend’s life.

  “Good luck finding us,” she hissed into the phone before disconnecting the call.

  “FUCK!” I yelled out. I should’ve let Honest make the fucking phone call. He was way better under pressure than the rest of us.

  Now we had nothing to go on and I had no idea where to start. I’d have to take another look at that DVD to see if there were any clues on who she was. It would be the only way to save Nero’s life.

  Epilogue
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  Swing

  Someone’s got one hell of a left hook, I thought finally starting to wake up. My head was killing me and the left side of my face felt a bit swollen, but I couldn’t help but laugh. I was never really good against a southpaw.

  “He’s awake,” a voice mumbled.

  I squinted my eyes tightly, before I attempted to sit up. That was easily thwarted by the fact that I seemed to be tied up. What the fuck?

  Attempting to lift my arms, I realized that I hadn’t been tied up after all; I had been tied down. The cool, familiar metal underneath me told me that chances were this was my table. I had to be back in Bend, but I wouldn’t believe it until I could actually see it.

  “Go get him. Need to make sure we got the right guy,” the voice said.

  I smiled.

  I knew that voice. Even through the grogginess of my mind right now and the obvious predicament I was in, I knew that was Mary Ann. With a Herculanean effort, I forced myself to open my eyes. The one that would open anyway.

  Above me was the high ceiling complete with metal rods that confirmed that I was indeed in Leon’s old workshop. I closed my eye again and remained silent.

  I’m tied to the table in the place I kill people for the MC. Mary Ann is here and she’s talking to someone else about making sure that I’m the ‘right guy’, and someone is going to come in and confirm it. This is not a good situation to be in right now.

  “He’s on his way,” a second voice said quietly.

  Okay, now who’s that?

  “It’s a damn shame really,” Mary Ann said to the other person. “But he’s earned this for a couple of reasons. Can’t send the message that we’re weak.”

  “I want first crack at him,” the other voice said.

  “You’ll get it, darlin’. I’ll make sure of it.”

  Hm. Guess I pissed some people off.

  I cleared my throat and decided to not say anything unless it was necessary. I didn’t care who I had pissed off and I sure as hell wasn’t scared. The only thing I honestly was, was curious. Morbidly curious to be precise. I wondered what exactly they thought they could do to me that would make whatever I did all better.

  “Look at that. He’s got a smile on his fucking face,” the not Mary Ann voice said incredulously.

  Probably because I’m not afraid of girls, I thought, my smile widening slightly.

  Most people in my situation would be begging, crying, swearing, bargaining; anything to get out of this alive. But I wasn’t convinced yet that they were a danger, and again, I didn’t really care.

  I must’ve fallen asleep because I woke up to being jarred. I felt rough hands shoving my arm and I forced myself to open my eye again.

  “Yeah, that’s him.”

  It took me a few moments to focus on who was standing above me and I couldn’t help but laugh when I realized it was Pardon.

  “Getting girls to do your dirty work for you, now?” I asked, closing my eye again.

  “You fucked up this time, Nero,” he said with a slight chuckle in his voice. “I had eyes on you this entire time and when you crossed paths with Mary Ann, I knew it was the right time to get you brought home where you belong.”

  “And what does Ricki think about that?” I asked. “Maybe I’ll ask her.”

  “You don’t get it do you, boy? You’re not walking out of here. You’re not going to ask or tell anyone anything, because you’re the mark now,” Pardon said, poking a finger into my chest. “You killed the club president of Stilettos and Steele Motorcycle Club. You’re fucked.”

  Stilettos and Steele sounds like a strip club, not an MC, I thought to myself with a laugh. What kind of club would name themselves that? There was never any talk about an all girl gang so I couldn’t help but wonder what the hell Pardon was really up to.

  I opened my eye again and looked at him. It all made sense to me now. He had set me up from the very beginning when he insisted that I kill Alaska Winslow. A girl whose story I didn’t even bother to find out. A girl whose life was wasted because this old bastard wanted to get rid of me. He knew he would win the vote for an extra year and that me getting the chair was a real possibility. So he set me up for an to break a Havoc clause. Killing another member of an MC without reason or the unanimous vote of all charters of your club, is an automatic yes to Havoc for the perpetrator.

  “Didn’t know you had it in you, Pardon,” I said quietly. “Kudos though. This was well thought out.”

  “You wanted the chair, well you’re gonna get it. Bring it in, son,” he said turning to someone behind him.

  Son. Dallas. My best fucking friend was in on this too, I thought with a laugh. He set me up by taking me to what I could only assume was the hometown for Stilettos and Steele. With as much as I hated to finally understand the truth, I also knew that I wouldn’t die here. I’d fucking survive this shit and I would get back at Pardon and Dallas. I’d get them at the same time and make them watch each other die.

  I heard the thud of heavy wood as something was brought into the workshop. Then I heard Pardon tell the “boys” to get me off the table and tie me into the chair. I didn’t fight them; in fact, I went willingly. I knew I wasn’t strong enough to fight off the whole of Tidals & Anchors. Not yet, anyway.

  When I was brought to my feet, I walked over to the chair like a man condemned to die, without giving them a struggle.

  “Gimme a sec,” I said.

  I rolled my shoulders a few time, trying to get some circulation going, before I put my hands on the arms of the chair and let them tie me up. It was actually kind of ironic. The chair that Pardon was referring to was the president’s chair of Tidals & Anchors. He had the actual fucking chair brought to Leon’s.

  I held my head up and opened my eye to look around. Whoever was here from the MC quickly left the workshop before I could see them.

  All of them except Pardon.

  Mary Ann walked over to stand next to him and they both looked at me with satisfied expressions on their faces.

  “That girl you killed? The club president? That was my daughter,” Mary Ann said, a dark expression crossing over her face. “Just in case you were wondering what I had invested in this.”

  “Duly noted,” I replied with a nod.

  I still don’t care.

  A third person, the one I assumed to be the voice I couldn’t quite place, came to stand next to them. This person had a white mask over their face and was standing there with their arms crossed over their chest.

  “Is it time now?” they asked, voice slightly muffled by the mask.

  “Yeah. Yeah it is,” Pardon confirmed. “Teach him a lesson, but keep him alive. I want to make sure that I get the final blow.”

  With a nod, the masked figure stepped forward, a dirty rag in their hand. My head was jerked roughly back against the chair as the rag was used as a blindfold.

  I sighed impatiently.

  “Before this is over, I will kill you.”

  My whispered promise to my faceless executioner must have struck a chord because the hands hesitated as they finished securing the blindfold.

  Pardon. Mary Ann. Dallas. The Faceless Coward. Tidals & Anchors. My list was going to leave an epic bloodbath in my wake, but I would get every last person that wronged me. That was a fucking promise.