by Harley Wylde
He pressed the knife to my throat and leaned in close. “Did your boyfriend like all that hair? I just might shave your head when I’m finished with you, before I throw your ass into the nearest whorehouse. Men won’t care if you have hair on your head. Long as they can put their dick in you, that’s all that matters.”
The monster smiling at me terrified me more than anything else I’d ever seen. I’d never known a man like him before. Or rather, I hadn’t realized I had. It seemed my grandfather was just as evil as this bastard.
Boucher walked off again, coming back with a branding iron and what I assumed was a blowtorch. Shit. There was no way I could survive that without passing out or screaming. I felt my heart start to race, and my gaze darted around the room, hoping for a rescue or escape of some kind.
A crash sounded upstairs, and Bomber winked at me.
Was that what we’d been waiting for? Had he known someone was coming to save me?
I heard the frantic barking of a dog, shouts, and gunfire. Boucher cursed and tossed aside the items in his hand. He grabbed another knife, this one bigger than the last, and came for me. He drew his arm back, the knife over his head. Before he could bring it down and impale me with it, the barking got louder. I heard a vicious growl and a blur of fawn-colored fur shot toward me, latching onto Boucher’s leg.
“Barney?” Where had the little corgi come from?
Boucher tried to shake him free, cursing and hopping. He kicked at the dog, but Barney came right back. His fangs flashed, and his growls filled the air. While he kept Boucher busy, Bomber freed me from the cuffs holding me to the cross. He shrugged out of his cut and yanked his shirt over his head, quickly tugging it over mine and covering my body. Bomber put his cut back on and took my hand.
“Come on, beautiful. Let’s get you out of here.”
He led me to the stairs, and I froze. “Titan?”
He took the last few steps and crushed me to him, breathing me in. I felt a tremor run through him and tried not to cry out from the pain of being held so tight. I was safe. He’d come for me!
“Stay with Bomber, Delilah.”
I shook my head. “I’m not leaving without you.”
He gave me tight-lipped smile and nodded. “All right, but you may not like what you see.”
He moved farther into the room, calling off Barney. The little corgi ran to me, pressing against my ankles. I knelt and wrapped my arms around him.
“My hero,” I murmured as I buried my face in his fur.
Titan gripped Boucher by his neck, lifting him off the floor. “You sent men after my wife? Kidnapped her. Hurt her. Biggest fucking mistake you’ve ever made.”
“Wife?” Boucher asked in a choked voice.
“Yes.” Titan smiled, but it was cold and hard. “Wife. And the mother of my child. I will fucking end you, but not before you suffer.”
“Did he rape you? Before we got here?” Bomber asked softly.
“No. I think he planned to, but he hadn’t gotten there yet. He’d just started when you arrived.”
“Titan, he hurt her but he didn’t rape her,” Bomber called out.
“Doesn’t fucking matter. He would have.” My husband carried Boucher by his throat and pressed him to the cross I’d been shackled to. Satyr fastened the man in place, then Titan used the discarded knife to slice the man’s clothes off. My husband smirked at Boucher’s cock. “That why you have to rape women? Hell, if it got any smaller, it would disappear.”
Boucher turned purple again and sputtered, but kept his mouth shut. He must have realized how dire his situation was.
“Let me be clear,” Titan said. “There’s no one coming to rescue you. And no one will ever find your body. You’re simply going to disappear.”
“You can’t do this,” Boucher said, a whine to his voice.
“Oh, I can. And I will,” Titan said. His gaze swung to hold mine. “Last chance, baby. Leave before I get started. You won’t be able to unsee what happens down here. I don’t ever want you to see me with that much blood on my hands.”
Bomber tugged on my arm. “Come on. He’s right. You don’t need to watch.”
I let him lead me up the stairs and away from Titan. But the screams that followed me I knew would live in my nightmares for weeks to come.
Chapter Thirteen
Titan
Satyr stood at my side, arms folded, as he observed Boucher with a bored look on his face. I’d be forever in the debt of the Broken Bastards for getting to Delilah and hopefully delaying the worst of her torture until I’d been able to arrive. The little pissant in front of me deserved to die, but I wasn’t going to let him go anytime soon. I wanted to draw this out.
I stripped off my cut and pulled my shirt over my head, not wanting to get blood on either. Satyr gripped my arm, staring at the ink on my bicep. I knew the moment he saw what was hidden in the various bits of art. Most people didn’t look close enough.
“Semper Fi,” he murmured and let me go.
I stared at him, and he tugged down the collar on his tee. A devil dog was inked on his pectoral. I gave him a nod, then focused on Boucher.
“Marine?” Boucher asked, his eyes going wide and darting between me and Satyr. “You’re both Marines?”
“Guess you fucked up bad,” I said. I picked up the branding iron and blowtorch. “Now what were you going to do with these?”
“Nothing!” Boucher struggled against his restraints.
“Kept calling your woman a whore. Said he was going to sell her to a whorehouse when he was finished because men didn’t care what she looked like as long as they could put their dicks in her.” Satyr narrowed his eyes at Boucher. “If I find out any of the parties I attended here had unwilling women, I’ll bring you back from the dead just so I can kill you myself. Never raped a woman in my life and the thought I may have unknowingly done so turns my stomach.”
I turned on the torch and used it to heat the end of the branding iron. When it glowed red, I pressed it to Boucher’s abdomen, making him scream and thrash. The scent of burned flesh would have bothered a lesser man, but this wasn’t my first round with torture. I used the branding iron to leave four more marks on his torso and thighs. He blubbered and begged, as if it would make a difference.
“I’ll leave her alone,” he said. “You’ll never hear from me again.”
“You’re right. I won’t because you’ll be buried six feet under.”
Satyr cleared his throat. “We don’t bury our dead in the ground. Best to take him to the swamp and feed him to the gators.”
I paused. “You don’t bury them?”
Satyr shrugged a shoulder. “New Orleans is below sea level. We bury everyone aboveground. Doesn’t exactly help with hiding a body, unless you put him in an old crypt no one visits anymore. You could toss him into the coffin with the bones of whoever is resting there. As long as the smell didn’t draw attention, it’s possible he’d never be found.”
Interesting. “I think the gators are a better option.”
Boucher had paled considerably. He slumped against his restraints and I knew he’d finally accepted his fate. Fucker should have left Delilah alone.
“Titan.” I turned at the sound of Stone’s voice. “Found two girls up here. Not even eighteen yet.”
“What did he do to them?” I asked.
“Raped them. Not just him either,” Stone said. “One’s in really bad shape. The other is spitting mad. Keeps hissing at us like a fierce little kitten. Got most of my information from her.”
I eyed Boucher, then yelled up to Stone. “Bring down the angry one. Make sure the other one has whatever medical care she needs.”
The soft tread of steps told me the girl was on her way. She wore a T-shirt I recognized as Stone’s, and fire flashed in her eyes as she stared at Boucher. She spat in his face.
“He’s going to pay the ultimate price for what he did to you, and what he intended for my wife,” I said. “But I wanted you to see him like this
, to know he can’t ever hurt you again.”
Her gaze swung to me, then dropped to the knife on the floor. What happened next was enough to make even me cringe and cup my balls. She stabbed Boucher twice in the gut before driving the knife straight between his legs. The sound he made was inhuman and the blood flowed freely before he passed out. Pity. I’d wanted him alive when he bled out, to feel every excruciating second.
She backed up and I noticed she was trembling. Stone came down the stairs, took one look at her, and wrapped his arm around her shoulders, leading her back to the main part of the house. It seemed he’d won her over. Whatever he’d said, it had gotten her down here, and she wasn’t fighting to get away from him.
“Fuck. That was both scary and hot at the same time,” Satyr said.
“Boucher pissed off the wrong woman,” I said. I found a small sink across the room and rinsed the blood off before I put my shirt and cut back on. I noticed a bunch of hair on the floor and thought I saw streaks of purple. “Or girl. Stone said she wasn’t even eighteen yet. I can only imagine the hell she’s been through. The kill should have been hers. I just didn’t think she’d want to do it.”
“My club will handle the cleanup,” Satyr said. “Wrecker has a friend with the local police. He can smooth things over if necessary. Go take care of your woman.”
I clapped him on the shoulder before heading upstairs. Delilah was outside in her father’s truck, Barney in her lap. Her haunted eyes focused on me as I hurried toward her. I yanked the truck door open and wrapped her in my arms, Barney smooshed between us, not that the furry beast seemed to care.
“I could have lost you,” I murmured.
“You got here in time,” she said.
“Not quite,” Lance said. “She needs medical care.”
Bomber appeared almost out of nowhere. “We have a doc at the clubhouse. Bring her there and he can treat her.”
“Appreciate it,” I said.
“I’ll follow you.” Lance buckled his seatbelt. “Do we need to find a hotel for the night?”
“No!” Delilah looked almost panicked as she latched onto me. “I want to go home, Titan. Please.”
I nodded. “If you think you can handle the trip home, that’s what we’ll do. Let’s have the doc take a look first, okay?”
“Okay,” she said softly.
I brushed a kiss against her forehead, then shut the door. After I started up my bike, I pulled down the drive and out the gate. Three Broken Bastards were in front of me leading the way, and another took up the rear with my brothers. Their compound was outside the city heading into the swamplands, and nowhere near as big as mine. They had a barbed-wire fence around the place and hadn’t even bothered with a gate. The clubhouse looked rickety on the outside, made of what appeared to be driftwood.
A long porch ran across the front and Breaker stood on the steps, the glow of a cigarette announcing his presence even in the darkness before I could make out his features. I parked next to Lance’s truck and helped Delilah from the vehicle. Barney leapt down and immediately started marking his territory. While he was occupied, I took Delilah inside, hoping like hell they didn’t have club whores all over the damn place.
My hopes were dashed the second we walked inside. Women ran around naked. Some were giving blowjobs or getting fucked outright. I glanced at Breaker, who only shrugged and motioned for me to go straight through the crowd. I lifted Delilah into my arms. After all she’d been through, I didn’t know how she was upright. Didn’t matter. I wasn’t about to let her walk barefoot through whatever might be on the floor in here. When I reached the other side of the room, Breaker pointed to the stairs.
We went up to the second floor and into the only room that stood open. The place looked bigger inside than it had from out front. And the interior wasn’t as shabby as the outside appeared. A full-size bed was in the middle of the room with a chair beside it. The only other furniture in the room was a dresser with a small TV on top. Another door opened to a small bathroom.
I eased Delilah onto the bed.
“Don’t worry. It’s clean,” said a man from the doorway. “I’m Turbo.”
I shook his hand, glancing at his cut. Sergeant-at-Arms.
“Turbo is a man of many talents,” Breaker said. “Served as a medic in the Army and even went to medical school.”
“Decided I hate school.” Turbo grinned. “But I’m decent at patching people up. Heard your woman had a rough time of it with Boucher. Hope you killed that fucker.”
“Actually, one of his victims had that honor. Found two girls in the house. One was in bad shape. The other was pissed as hell.”
“Luther,” Delilah said. “He said my grandfather was responsible for his daughter going missing. But if he was at Boucher’s place, then he must have thought his daughter was there.”
“Could be one of them is his daughter,” I said. “I didn’t stop to ask. He’s the one who tipped off the Broken Bastards, but I didn’t pay much attention to him when I got there.”
“Where exactly are you hurt?” Turbo asked Delilah.
“My thighs, abdomen, and…” Her cheeks burned a bright pink. I gave Lance a nod to head out and he stepped into the hall, along with Breaker.
“It’s okay, baby. Where did he hurt you?” I asked.
She touched her breast. “I think he bruised me, and he used a whip on me.”
I growled and shut my eyes, wishing I could bring the fucker back to life just so I could kill him all over again. I’d let the girl have that honor, but now I wished I’d ended his life. Either way, he’d never harm another woman ever again. It would have to be enough.
I helped Delilah remove the shirt Bomber had given her, my body blocking her from Turbo’s gaze. After I helped her arrange it so most of her was covered, I stepped back so he could take a look at her wounds. He grabbed an old-fashioned doctor’s bag from beside the dresser, one I hadn’t even noticed until now, and opened it up. His touch seemed gentle as he treated the welts and cuts she’d sustained. She’d been right about the bruising. I could see fingermarks on her breast where the asshole had grabbed her.
“She got off easy,” he said. “Not that I’m belittling what Delilah went through, but it could have been much worse. She’ll heal within a week.”
“Is it safe for her to ride back to Mississippi tonight?” I asked. “She said she wanted to go home.”
“Can’t blame her.” Turbo smiled. “As long as the car ride isn’t too rough, she should be fine. I can give her something for pain before you leave.”
“She’s pregnant,” I said.
“Then I’ll make sure it’s something safe for the baby. Sit tight and I’ll see what I can find. Do you need anything?” Turbo asked.
“There’s a duffle in her dad’s truck. It has a set of clothes for her.”
Turbo nodded. “I’ll bring it up with me when I return.”
He shut the door behind him, and I sank onto the edge of the mattress, reaching for Delilah’s hand. I couldn’t remember a time I’d been more scared than when she’d been taken. When Phoebe had been snatched, I hadn’t realized she was my daughter. It wasn’t until later that we found out. Still, as much as I loved my kid and my grandkids, having Delilah disappear like she had was a terror I never wanted to feel again.
“There’s something I need to tell you,” I said, running my fingers over her palm. “I didn’t even realize it until you were gone. Finding out you were missing, and that someone had taken you… it tore me up, Delilah. And it made me realize how much I love you.”
I heard her indrawn gasp. “You love me?”
I nodded.
Tears misted her eyes as she reached up to cup my cheek. “I love you too. It’s the one regret I had when I realized Boucher was probably going to kill me. I’d never gotten to tell you how I felt, or rather I’d been too scared to admit it.”
“You know I’m not letting you leave the compound alone again. At least, not for a good year or two. I
t will take that long for me to stop worrying every time you aren’t in my line of sight.”
She leaned closer and brushed her lips against mine. “I’m okay with that.”
Turbo came back with a bottle of water and some pills, as well as the duffle from the truck. After making sure Delilah took the medication, he left so she could get dressed. I helped her into her clothes and ran my fingers through her much shorter hair. The ends were jagged, and I remembered the hair I’d seen on the floor at Boucher’s. I’d been so focused on getting Delilah out of there, I hadn’t really thought about the hair being hers.
“He cut your hair off.” I touched the ends again.
“I’ll need to get it cleaned up so it doesn’t look so awful. He hacked it off with a knife. I’m sure it’s uneven and… and… ugly.”
“Baby, you could never look ugly. It doesn’t matter how long your hair is. It will grow back, or you may decide you like it short. I don’t care as long as you like it.” I kissed her again, my lips caressing hers. “Come on, beautiful. Let’s go home.”
I stood and lifted her into my arms, carrying her down to her dad’s truck. Lance must have heard we were leaving because he was already waiting with the engine running. Or he’d seen more than he wanted at the clubhouse. I had a feeling he’d have a few questions for me later. Once Delilah was buckled, I put Barney in the truck and shut the door. I got on my bike and pulled away from the Broken Bastards clubhouse, thankful for their help. I’d make sure they were compensated for their part in Delilah’s rescue.
It took two hours to get back home, and when we pulled up to my house, Gwen was standing on the porch. I knew Lance must have called her. I was grateful to see Griffin wasn’t with her. I parked my bike under the carport and picked up Delilah from the front seat of the truck. Barney jumped to the ground and raced to the front door, apparently just as happy to be home as my wife was.
