by Sophia Gray
“I remember you,” I said. My voice sounded shaky and high-pitched, like a little girl’s. “You used to be friends with Trey.”
“Oh, you do have a good memory,” Damien said. He smiled at me and stepped closer with a leering grin on his face. He made no secret at all of staring straight at my breasts and I shuddered at his intense gaze. “It’s been years since we laid eyes on each other. You remember the last time?”
I swallowed hard. I did remember. It was one of the last times Trey and I had seen each other before…well, before my parents orchestrated the breakup. Trey had taken me dancing. We’d stayed until well after midnight, and afterwards, stumbled to his car. I was tipsy, tired, and all but falling down. Trey was laughing and supporting me with an arm around my waist. I remembered the way he smelled when I laid my head on his shoulder. Even now, in a grimy basement with a man who wanted to hurt me, remembering that night brought back a spark of pleasure.
But it hadn’t ended on a good note. As Trey had walked me closer to the car, a man had stepped out of the shadows. Damien. They’d gotten into some kind of argument and Trey pulled a knife. He told Damien to stay away. At the time, seventeen years old and naïve as a schoolgirl, I’d been horrified. I’d had no idea Trey was protecting me; I’d only been shocked that my date had been packing a switchblade in his pocket the whole time. Trey had tried to soothe me but nothing had worked. When he’d taken me home, I’d cried for hours at the fact that he could be so cruel. I’d never even thought Damien would have wanted to hurt me. Now, I wanted to go back in time and shake that silly little girl to her senses. Trey wouldn’t have hurt a hair on my head. I understood that now, but I couldn’t help feeling like it was too late.
“I remember,” I said sharply. Chuckie scrambled up and hid behind me. I could feel his small fingers digging into my thigh and I knew he had to be more scared than ever.
“Mommy, who’s that man?” Chuckie’s voice was high and nearing hysterical.
I pulled him into my arms so his back was to Damien. “Don’t worry, sweetie,” I told Chuckie, keeping my eyes on Damien, daring him to say anything to the contrary. “We’re going to be just fine.”
Damien chuckled, a low, creepy sound. “So who am I?” He fixed his yellowish eyes right on me and I felt a bolt of fear strike my heart.
“You’re Damien,” I said softly. “You were a friend of Trey’s.”
Damien cackled, throwing his head back and exposing a veiny, corded neck. “You’re right,” he said. “Goddammit, you remembered me?” He almost grinned. “That’s a compliment, Angel, dear.”
I shuddered. “Let us go,” I said, trying to keep my voice as stern as I could. “Let me and my son go. We don’t deserve to be here. We haven’t done anything wrong.”
Damien raised an eyebrow at me but he didn’t say anything. “Oh, you haven’t, have you? Well, then, I’ll just let you go,” he said silkily. “But there’s a price you have to pay first.” He stepped closer and I felt my heart slam against my ribs in sheer terror.
I shook my head. “I’m not giving you shit, Damien,” I said flatly. “Let us go.”
Damien cocked his head to the side and looked at me with an amused glance. “I don’t think so,” he said archly. “After all, I went to all the trouble of finding you and bringing you here. I don’t think I’m through with you yet, Angel. It’s been such a long time.” He grinned wolfishly and I felt a ripple of terror go through my body. “And I’ve missed you! Haven’t you missed me?”
I was confused. “I don’t get it,” I said softly. “We weren’t even friends. What do you want with me? If you’re trying to use me to get to Trey, it’s not going to work. He doesn’t care about me.”
Damien grinned wickedly. “Aged too much for him?” It stung but I didn’t reply. “Well, I think you look just amazing.” He licked his lips and let his eyes wander down my body, staring at my breasts.
I shuddered and tried to look away. “Damien, come on,” I pleaded. “Think back to being friends with Trey! Even though we’re not together anymore, you know he wouldn’t approve of you doing this!”
Anger flickered on Damien’s face for the first time. I sensed that I’d hit a raw nerve.
“Always gotta defend the golden boy, don’t you?” Damien sneered. He leaned closer and I smelled something rotten on his breath. “Don’t you know he and I are cut from the same cloth, you dumb bitch?”
“No, you’re not,” I said. “Trey made a life for himself. He brought himself up and he’s doing fine. And you’re…you’re kidnapping innocent women and their children! You’re fucked up, Damien!”
Damien laughed bitterly. “And don’t you think I know that, sweetcheeks?” He stared at me and I shivered. “Don’t you think I know it shoulda been me who succeeded, not your pretty boy Trey?”
I shook my head. “I don’t care,” I said firmly.
Damien shook his head. He rubbed at some of the dark stubble on his chin with a greasy thumb. “I shoulda been the one who got to leave Centerville,” Damien said. “Not him. And you shoulda been my girl. Not his.”
I blinked, feeling dumb. All this time, I’d never imagined that Damien had given Trey shit because he’d liked me. In fact, I’d actually thought he hated me.
“What, you’re surprised I want you?” Damien gave me a wicked grin. He stood up and stepped closer. I flinched as his hand reached down and stroked my cheek. “Don’t be surprised, honey. You’re hot, mama, even with a little kid.”
Before I could stop him, Chuckie turned around in my lap and faced Damien defiantly. My cheeks burned with shame knowing my son had listened in on this conversation.
“My Daddy is going to come save us,” Chuckie piped up. “You should be afraid of him! He’s tough!”
Damien threw his head back and laughed. It was a rumbling, throaty sound that echoed through the damp basement. “Your daddy is dead,” Damien said evenly. I gasped and he made no response. “And you’ll be dead soon, too.”
I was in shock as Damien got up and walked towards us with a length of rope in his hands. As he tied my wrists together behind my back, more tightly than before, I was barely paying attention. All I could think about was Trey. Was he really dead? What was going to happen to us now? I felt like crying, but in front of Damien, the tears wouldn’t come.
When he was finished binding me, he moved to Chuckie and tied up his hands and ankles. Then he twisted my ankles together with the same rope, effectively binding me to my son.
“I hope you enjoyed your snack,” Damien said just as my stomach rumbled from fierce hunger. “That was the last time you’ll be untied for a few days. I hope it was good!” He grinned at me as he turned around and climbed back up the stairs, flicking off the lights and slamming the door hard behind him.
“Mommy, what are we going to do?” Chuckie’s voice was trembling and scared but I couldn’t even respond. I was too trapped in my own head, too aware of my own shortcomings. Somehow, all of this had to be my fault.
And now I was feeling more scared than ever before.
Chapter 25
Trey
When I finally got back to the Angels’ HQ, I was covered in sweat and physically gearing up for a confrontation. Before Angel had come back into my life, I didn’t care about the violent acts that went on all the time. But now I was seeing them from a faintly different perspective, almost as if Angel were watching me all the time, like a little guardian angel on my shoulder.
“Hey, boss,” Ram greeted me. He clapped me on the back, no doubt trying to make up for me passing over him in favor of Eric.
“Sucking up ain’t gonna do you any good,” I told him. “Where’s Eric? Where’s the guy?”
“Back here!” I heard Eric calling. “We fuckin’ got him, man.”
I followed the sound of Eric’s voice to a dingy room in the back that we sometimes used for bike repairs. The concrete floor was covered in grease and sweat and it smelled like man, the kind of man who rode in an MC. I shuddered
, thinking maybe this would be my last time in the clubhouse. I was going to miss it. The Skullbreakers had been a part of my life for so long I couldn’t even think about how empty it was going to feel when I was just another average Joe.
There was a bulky man, bound to a chair, placed in the center of the room. His bald head was beading with sweat and when he saw me, the terror reflected on his face was as plain as day. Someone had gagged him and he began trying to talk frantically, resulting in garbled sound. Ram smacked him on the back and he winced.
“This one’s a chatty motherfucker,” Eric said with a smirk. “We caught him behind the trees. Luckily, he didn’t get too far away before we dragged him back.”
I stared at the man, taking in his swarthy appearance. He had to be at least three hundred pounds, with as much fat as he had muscle. There were tattoos covering his arms, including the Steel Demons insignia — a set of shark’s jaws in steel gray. I pulled my knife out of my pocket and jabbed at his arm, just hard enough to make a speck of blood appear.
“Take the gag out,” I ordered.
Eric stepped forward and ripped a dirty rag from the man’s mouth. He started yammering away and I swung back and clocked him hard in the face. My hand connected with muscle, bone, and I felt blood dripping from my fingers as I lowered my fist.
“I’ll hit you every time you start talking,” I growled. “Right now, you’re going to fucking listen to me. Then we can talk. Don’t say anything. Just nod if you understand.”
The man nodded. Sweat dripped off his fatty upper lip and chin. I could tell he was scared. And he had every right to be; the next few hours weren’t going to be very fun for him.
“I had a friend,” I said lazily, walking around in a circle and beating at my left palm with my right fist. “This guy named Wolf. He was in the Skullbreakers with me for years, and I always thought he was a loyal companion.”
If our hostage recognized Wolf’s name, he didn’t show it. The whites of his eyes showed in fear, and I could guess he had at least some idea of what was coming.
“Well, Wolf and I were such good friends that I really felt like I could trust him,” I continued. “In fact, I told Wolf just about everything that went on in the world. He was one of my best friends. I would have trusted him with my life.”
From the other side of the room, I saw Ram and Eric focus their eyes on me. They didn’t know what was coming, but I guessed it was going to be an unpleasant shock. Finding out a member squealed, no matter if he was anything to you personally, was always a hard thing to take.
“Wolf and I were so close,” I said, leaning down in the hostage’s face, crossing my two fingers and shook them close to his eyes, “we were like this, man. So, naturally, when a certain lady from my past and her son waltzed back into my life, I told Wolf. You see, since Wolf was on my side, I thought he would help me protect them both. And they did need protecting; she’d been attacked twice in the span of a week, and her kid was pretty helpless.”
The hostage had begun to moan, a low, liquid sound.
“Hey, Ram,” I called. “Bring me those gardening shears we have over there.”
The hostage’s eyes opened. When he parted his lips, I swung my fist back.
“Remember, no talky for now,” I told him. “I’m not finished telling you the rest of the story.”
Ram crossed the room and placed a gigantic pair of gardening shears in my waiting hand. The blades were bigger than my thumbs, and I knew from past experience they could really do some damage. I strode behind the hostage and grabbed one of his bound hands, placing his thumb in between the blades of the shears.
“Well, you might guess what happened next. Some of your guys, the Steel Demons, if I’m not mistaken, grabbed Wolf and beat him to a bloody pulp.”
The hostage started shrieking and squealing when he felt the cold blades of metal pressing against his finger. I wasn’t applying enough pressure to cut the skin, but one jerk of my fingers and this guy wouldn’t have his thumb anymore.
“What did I say about talking?” Angrily I stepped in front of him again and glared. Tears were running down the man’s face and he was red with sweat and anxiety. He opened his mouth and I swung my fist back and punched him harder than before. When he spat at the ground, two teeth fell out of his lips.
“I’m done waiting,” I announced, stepping behind the man and grabbing his thumb with my fingers. Before he could say anything, I snapped his thumb in my hand. It was like breaking a thick, fatty twig. The hostage screamed in agony and I grabbed his pointer finger.
“This is what you guys did to Wolf,” I said softly. “You broke all of his fingers until he agreed to tell you what you wanted to know. And I hope you know, the Skullbreakers have much, much more devious methods of hurting you than breaking your fingers.” I sliced the shears together in front of the hostage’s face. “I think these would do a great job cutting off your nuts, just in case we run out of fingers before you start to talk.”
The hostage started shaking so hard I had to tighten my grip on his pointer finger. Before he could move again, I snapped the finger in my hand. The hostage screamed and tensed, his body jerking against the chair. For good measure, I grabbed one of his middle fingers and pulled it hard until it sprang from the joint with a soft pop sound.
The hostage screamed in agony. Chuckling, I walked around and faced him.
“So, are you ready to tell me where Damien took my girlfriend and my son? Or would you like me to break more fingers first? Or slice them off.” I held up the shears and waved them in front of the hostage’s face. “I could do that, too,” I said with a wicked grin.
“I can talk!” the hostage screamed. He looked at me with big, scared eyes that were bloodshot. “I can talk,” he repeated numbly. He spat out another mouthful of blood and locked eyes with me. “Damien took them to the old Wilson farm, outside of town.”
“Good,” I said, stepping behind him. The man tensed as I grabbed one of his ring fingers and snapped it with ease between my own hands. His swollen, broken fingers looked like red pork sausages jutting out from his meaty hand.
“I had to get that one in for good measure,” I said casually as I stepped back around. “Don’t worry, you only have a few left. Then we can start on the shears.”
The hostage trembled and shook. I rolled my eyes. He was a pussy, just like Wolf had been. My guys had been through a lot worse than broken fingers in their days. I cracked a grin. Hell, I should be feeling lucky. After all, the man who stayed was a man who would talk. And that was a good thing.
“And just what was Damien planning to do with them?” I pressed the shears against the man’s unbroken thumb. “Tell me or I cut this off.”
“He was going to kill them!” The hostage gasped before I could bear down on the shears. “He’s going to kill them in the morning even though you stepped down!”
Anger flooded my body and I was more than halfway tempted to just cut his thumb off right then and there.
“You fucking ingrate,” I snapped under my breath. “Why didn’t you fucking tell me that before?” Stalking around and facing the crying, red-faced hostage, I glared at him with all of the strength and anger in my body. “Then what?”
The hostage shook his head. He suddenly looked nervous. “I don’t know,” he stammered. “I don’t know! Damien didn’t say anything else!” His voice grew to a boyish, high-pitched wail.
“Come on,” I said in a deadpan voice. “Tell me who’s guarding them.”
“Damien is!” the hostage yelped quickly. “But he only took a couple of men with him! I think three. You could easily take them,” he added in a shaky voice, glancing around the garage. “You could easily overpower him! You’re stronger!” He was shaking and quivering and I could tell he thought we were going to kill him.
“Relax,” I said. “We’re not going to kill you.”
“You’re not?” The hostage looked up at me in disbelief.
“No,” I said shortly. “We’re
just going to leave you here while we go storm the farm. Come on, guys.”
Ram and Eric followed me out to the bikes. The old farm the hostage had mentioned was about twenty miles outside of Centerville and surrounded by a forest on all sides. It would be tricky, and I wasn’t sure if we had enough time to get there.
“We have to get there by morning,” I told the guys. “You get that?”
Eric nodded. He clapped a hand on my shoulder. “We’re with you, brother,” he said gruffly. “Prez or no prez, we’re behind you all the way.”
Ram gave me a reassuring glance. “Eric’s right,” he said solemnly. “Come on. Let’s go get your family.”
As we mounted our bikes and rode out towards the Wilson farm, I had a horrible feeling in the pit of my stomach. What if it was too late? What if Angel and Chuckie were already dead? Nausea overtook me but I couldn’t stop to hurl on the side of the road. I had to get to them, and I had to get there as soon as possible. If anything happened to Angel, it would be my fault. And this time I knew I’d never be able to forgive myself.
