by Ker Dukey
Jumping on the bed, he straddles me and flips me on to my stomach. I squirm and fight to be free but he’s too strong, too big, and it’s a futile effort.
Tears have dried up and I have no more left to shed.
Why is no one coming to help me?
Where is Slade?
I hear a chink sound, the flipping of a knife. My shirt is cut up the back, nicking my skin and falling from me, exposing my bare back to him.
I bite down on the duvet beneath me to stop myself from begging him not to rape me; that will just give him pleasure. A hot, sharp burning explodes on my neck and a scream tears from my throat, becoming muffled in the covers. The blade slices deeper and drags across the skin on my neck. His hand pins my head down and my lungs scream for air. I’m dying. I’m going to suffocate. I’ve never wanted my father more than in this moment. Save me from this monster.
A warm river runs down my neck and into my mouth, coating the duvet. I rise from the bed. My head is whooshing and spinning. I’m unsteady and woozy. My shirt falls down my arms and I’m left wearing only my bra and jeans. I lift my hand to the back of my neck and wince. Brenner is smirking at me, holding up something. My eyes try to focus on him and the object, and then vomit bursts from my lips when I see the slice of my skin he’s holding; my birthmark. The Cutters’ princess tattoo.
He flicks it to the floor like it’s something bad he’s cut off a steak.
Grabbing a fist full of my hair, he drags me through the clubhouse. My hands scratch and fight for him to let go, but it has no effect on him. Booting the door, he flings me outside. I hit the ground, sliding against the concrete. “There’s your princess.”
“Prez isn’t going to like this. This will mean war. It’s not what we agreed.” Someone speaks but I’m fading out and can’t pinpoint who it is.
“He said he wanted her back, he didn’t say in one piece. Now take her while you can.”
Warm arms scoop me from the floor and a whimper leaves my lips. Shadows play over my eyes as they close and I’m lost.
They can’t hold me much longer, and why it’s taking so long for my dad to get my attorney down here and get me moved to our county is troubling.
They made an excuse to get me in here. They must want something from me, or want me for something they think I’ve done but have no evidence of. I have no doubt this is about the sheriff’s son.
The familiar sounds of squeaky police shoes coming down the corridor announce company. “Walker?” a uniform barks, and I rise to my feet and go to the cell door.
I’m led down to an interview room. It’s just tactics to sleep deprive, starve, and dehydrate a prisoner, making them confess to shit they didn’t do. Well, you’ll be needing more then a few hours to make me delirious, motherfuckers.
I’m shoved into a chair with a push of my shoulders.
A few minutes later, the door re-opens and Sheriff Myers enters. He slaps a folder on the table and I raise a cocky brow. “That your homework?”
He opens it and flicks some pictures across the desk. The body of a young boy, bruises marring his features and bullet holes in his back. Another one shows a guy wearing a cashier uniform with a bullet to his skull, and the third is of a boy in a hospital bed, tubes going in and out of him like a spaghetti junction.
“That.” He taps his finger down on the one in hospital. “Is my son. My only son.”
“My condolences.”
“Fuck your condolences.”
“I don’t know what this has to do with me, or what I was brought in for.”
He smirks and leans back in his chair. “You were a mistake. They were supposed to pick up that runt of a brother of yours.”
My back stiffens and I shift in my chair, my brow collapsing. Every feeling in my bones tells me to lash out and tell him he has nothing, but looking at his smug face, I know that’s not true. This fucker does have something.
“Then why am I still here?”
He folds his arms and grins at me. “You’re still here so you’re out of the way.”
I’m sick of this shit now. “Do you want to stop talking in riddles and beating around the bush. I’m bored,” I announce on a yawn.
“If your brother is still alive, I’m going to put him behind bars and make sure he won’t ever see daylight again.”
My hands fist. What the fuck does he mean?
“Marie was there that night your cunt brother shot and killed two people.”
Ha, makes sense why she’s dead then.
“Two?” It’s out before I can stop myself.
“I leaked three bodies to the press so you bastards didn’t come for my son. He’s in a coma but he will wake up.”
Ha. Well, fuck.
“Marie is AWOL and I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Marie had a drug problem and your brother fed that addiction.”
Motherfucker. Brenner was the supplier for the surrounding colleges. Prez sent him and the Brothers Grim because of their age. They could blend in on campus and at campus parties to an extent, and be a presense to keep the frat boys in line; we supplied them, they supplied their friends.
“Marie was a whore and had a gambling problem, not drugs.”
He laughs and slaps his hand down on the table. “I’m surprised you stupid fucks survive this long, you have no idea what’s going on in your own club.”
“Be careful, Chief,” I warn and his eyes spark.
“Or what?”
“You don’t want Lilith’s Army as an enemy.”
“Oh, having me as an enemy is the least of your problems. Your club has enough of those already.”
What the fuck does that mean? And why is he being a snarky, shifty cunt?
Something buzzes and he pulls out his cell phone, smirking at it and nodding his head at me. “You’re free to go, but I’ll be seeing you again, and just so you know, I let your wife’s family know how she really ended up at your club.”
I grin at him but I feel anything but happy. Fuck.
As soon as I’m kissing moonlight, I call Brenner but get no reply. No big surprise there, the fucking asshole. He’s probably none the wiser that I haven’t returned to the club yet.
My old man also goes straight to voicemail and my hackles rise. Something’s not right. My thumb hovers over Avery’s number but my guts are churning and I can’t face it if she doesn’t pick up either.
Buzz’s cell rings. He picks up on the second ring and I exhale a relieved breath. “Where the fuck is everyone? My shitface brother isn’t answering his cell.”
“I don’t know. Tats isn’t replying to my messages either.”
“Where the fuck are you?”
“Tank ordered me to bring Rhiannon home, but your brother had a hissy fit, so I’ve been staying clear of the club until he’s blown off steam. You know how he gets about Rhiannon.”
Brenner hates Rhiannon being with any of the brothers, so I don’t blame Buzz for staying clear. My old man must have been really strapped for brothers to let Buzz take his daughter home.
“I can’t get through to Prez,” I bark.
“Prez and Gears went to take care of the mishap that Brenner caused but he should be back at the club now.”
I fucking hate that Prez left the clubhouse when my old lady is there. She knows better than to come out of my room when Brenner is lurking around, and Kiwi won’t leave her, but it doesn’t sit well with me.
“I’m going to ask you a question, and bear in mind I already know the answer, so lie to me and you’ll be stripped of your colors.”
The silence hangs in the air for a few seconds and then he sighs down the line. “Fair enough, but remember, I just take orders, I don’t create them.”
“Why kill Marie?”
Silence.
“What did Brenner have her doing that he didn’t want us finding out about?” I ask.
“He will kill me if I rat him out.” He exhales down the line. There’s not much that scares the Brot
hers Grim, but they know that Brenner is unpredictable and always given a pardon from the Prez, which makes him lethal and untouchable.
“Let me worry about him and he won’t have to know it was you. I have other sources. I just want to hear it from you.”
I’m about to flag down a cab when Scorch appears like a knight in shining armor with my truck. “How’d you know I was here?” I mumble, holding my hand over the receiver so Buzz can’t hear.
“I saw them fucking take you. I knew you’d be here a while so I cleared the mess and came straight here to wait.”
I hold up a finger and uncover the receiver.
“Buzz, just fucking answer the question.”
Scorch raises a brow and I roll my eyes. I’m sick of these brothers causing shit that I have to clean up. They went too far this time. Echo died and I want my fucking retribution! Brenner sure as hell is going to pay.
“Marie is a crackhead,” he finally answers. “Your brother made her party one night and then it rolled into two. It was while Stormy was on the road and the bitch was lonely. He capped her on free shit and she started paying until her funds ran out and then she was paying with her body.”
“So Brenner made her a fucking whore?”
“He sent her to Terry Dabble. Told him she liked to bet.”
“Why?”
“Because we would place bets and then get her to stay over with the fat fuck, wear him out, and then open his computer and create a sharing file so I could see and access his network and alter our bets.”
“So you were fucking over Fat Freddy and using Stormy’s wife to do it.”
“Brenner has mommy issues.”
“Brenner has more than fucking mommy issues. I can’t get hold of him or the Prez. Get your ass back to the club.”
“Sure.”
My cell chirps, alerting me to a call waiting, so I hang up on Buzz and take the call from Brig.
“Father-in-law,” I jest, but silence greets me on the other end and the chief’s sly warning that he told Brig about how Avery ended up with me rings alarms in my head. “You going to speak or you just gonna start breathing heavy down the line?” I taunt when he doesn’t say anything.
A growl crackles the line. “This didn’t have to go down this way. If you’d just been honest from the start we coulda worked something out.”
My blood curdles, turning to cement in my veins. “Is this about Avery coming over there to tell some jacked up prick she isn’t into him and is married to me now? Because it ain’t gonna happen, Brig, and it’s insulting you even asking for that shit.”
“Oh, that’s insulting? You have nerves of steel, motherfucker. Your punk ass brother kidnaps my girl and you fucking marry her to keep her quiet.”
“It isn’t like that. I love Avery.” I find the words tumbling from my mouth without thought, or even processing them, it’s just truth.
“Your old man should have dealt with the situation like a leader. Like a brother. Your brother should have been handed over to me for me to deal out punishment however I saw fit.”
“Let’s not tread over old footprints, Brig. Avery is where she wants to be. No one is forcing her, and since when did you take a cop’s word as gospel?”
“You expect me to believe you? You think I trust anything that comes out of your mouth? You thought you could make a fool out of me and take what belongs to me, belongs to my club. So, I’ve repaid the favor.”
The line goes dead and my heart beats a thousand thuds a second. What the fuck does that mean?
Scorch jerks his head for me to get in the truck. He knows without asking that we need to get home now.
There are hardly any bikes in the lot when we make it back to the club. With Dad ordering everyone to stalk the drop offs and then ordering a lock out to clean up another one of Brenner’s messes, it’s nothing to be alarmed about. Even so, the eerie empty spaces make my insides hum with unease. A part of me wants to rush inside, and the other part is fucking terrified of what awaits me behind those walls.
“This don’t feel good.” Scorch conveys my thoughts as he pulls his Glock from his jeans and nods his head to a spot on the floor. I follow his gaze to some small drops of blood highlighted by the floodlights. If that motherfucker has hurt anyone and taken my girl, I’m going to kill him so fucking slow he will beg me for mercy, and I won’t gift it to him.
A familiar rumble sounds from the gate and Buzz rides in on his Harley. He sees that we’ve armed ourselves and are staking the place out from the safety of the truck.
He frowns, coming to a stop right in front of me. “What the fuck’s going on?” He demounts his bike and stares between us and the club entrance.
“Something’s not right. Cutters?” I say, and the word alone is enough. Buzz pulls a blade from his boot and a gun from the inside of his patch.
“Wait!” I snap, but he turns and scowls.
“My brother’s in there.” And with that, he takes off running.
Scorch growls his disapproval but follows behind and I take up the rear. Quiet, dead air greets us when Buzz opens the door. My head swims with possible outcomes of what I’m going to find, and none of them are good.
“Son of a bitch.” Buzz lifts his chin in the direction of the couch where Gears’ vacant eyes stare straight ahead, dead to this world, a bullet hole in the side of his temple. A bottle of Jack sits in front of him and his foot is up and resting on a chair. If blood wasn’t decorating his clothes, from this angle, you wouldn’t even know he was cold.
Broken glass lays over the bar and a grunt sounds from behind it. Buzz is the first one over the bar, hissing when glass pierces the palm of his hand.
“Frost, get over here!” he shouts.
I look over the bar to see Brenner gazing up at me. He’s holding a hand over a blood patch on his hip.
“They took her back. They took Avery back,” he pants, out of breath. Sweat beads his forehead and my feet are already moving to my bedroom. The door is wide open and I can count the slow pounds of my heart as I reach the entry.
One.
Two.
Three.
Kiwi lays slumped on the floor, a bullet in her back. There’s blood all over my bed sheets. And no Avery.
This doesn’t make sense. He wouldn’t hurt her. Not here at least, and not enough to cause that much blood.
My legs feel weak and I want to sit but I can’t.
I need to get her back.
Pulling my cell out, I dial Brig’s number. The room spins as it rings. My hands shake. I want to go to his club and light the place up. Burn the motherfucker with the brotherhood he holds to such a high standard, the brotherhood he cared more about than showing his daughter real love.
“That didn’t take long.” He chuckles, dark and sinister, down the line.
“What the fuck did you do?” I growl.
“An eye for an eye.”
“You will bring her back!”
“I’ll tell you what. You decide which princess is worth the most to you and I’ll keep the loser.”
“What the fuck does that mean?”
“It means, give me Avery and I’ll give you your sister back.”
My mind can’t focus and hold on to what he’s saying. My sister?
“She’s a pretty little thing. Maybe I’ll just marry her and we’ll call this all fair game.”
I end the call and dial Rhiannon’s number. It rings twice before dark laughter ricochets down the line. “It’s cute that she has you down as big bro. I hope she likes them big. I have plenty of big bros for her here,” Brig taunts.
“Don’t you fucking touch her.”
“Don’t you fucking think you hold the power here. Bring me Avery and then you get your princess back. It’s simple and you’re grinding my last nerve.”
I end the call and raise my arm to throw my cell at the wall, but I can’t. I need it. Nothing makes fucking sense. Where the fuck is Avery? I dial her number, but nothing.
I storm
back through to the lounge, and Scorch has got Brenner into a chair and is examining his wound.
“It’s superficial. Bullet went straight through and only hit flesh.”
I nudge Scorch from the seat in front of Brenner and lower myself into it.
“You need to start making some sense right the fuck now, brother.”
“What do you mean? The Cutters came with fucking guns blazing, shot us and the place, took your bitch and left. I hit my fucking head when one of them shot me and I was out cold until you got here.” His dark eyes are almost completely swallowed by his shot pupils. He glares at me, not even blinking.
“They. Don’t. Have. Avery.” I bite out each word.
He flinches, his head rearing backward. The crashing of his brow and the confusion written in his eyes convey honest bewilderment. Lifting his hand to his face, he rubs the palms over his head. Getting to his feet, he hunches over a little and paces. “That doesn’t… I mean…”
“Where’s Buzz?” I ask Scorch, standing. He nods in the direction of the corridor leading to their rooms.
Marching down there, I push open their bedroom door. He’s kneeling on the floor with his brother’s head cradled in his lap. Motherfuckers.
“Buzz?”
“The killed him. They will burn for this. Every one of them.” A mix between a sob and a scream rips through the room, right from his lungs. I fucking hate that I can’t just let him grieve in peace but I need to know if they really do have Rhiannon.
Walking farther into the room, I place a hand on his shoulder and squeeze. “They will pay in blood for this, I promise you that. I’m sorry, Buzz. I know how close you were and words don’t mean shit right now.”
“I need to bury him.”
“All that can wait.”
“I need to tell Rhiannon.” He sniffs and lays Tats back on the floor then gets to his feet.
“Why does Rhiannon need to know?”
He turns to look at me and blinks away the water in his eyes. “Because he loved her, Frost. He fucking loved her and he would want her to know he’s dead.”
He is losing it. I don’t want to address his brother’s infatuation with Rhiannon; it wasn’t reciprocated on her end. She always acted creeped out by the brothers, and with good reason. That’s why it’s so hard to believe Brenner would willingly allow Buzz to escort her home.
