by G N Wright
I see the moment Ash knows when I’ve made a decision because his shoulders tense before I even speak, “Well, seems it is time for the Captain of Police and I to have a little chat.” He is going to bleed for every single one of his crimes.
“I’m helping,” Logan cuts in before anyone else can respond to me.
I roll my eyes, “What use is you being here, if you don’t fucking help, Lo?” my tone is sniping but I have far too much coming at us right now to give a shit. The fucker just smirks at his rarely used nickname from me anyway.
“Knew you missed me,” he preens with delight.
“What do we have on Baizen? Anything?” Marcus cuts in with a serious look on his face.
That gets a genuine smile from me for the first time since we all got here, “Come on, I’ll show you,” I gesture for them to follow me. I lead them back down to my little den of danger so we can make a plan. Once all the guys have taken a seat in there, I pull out a spare whiteboard, and start sticking information to it as I talk.
“Steven Baizen,” I begin by placing a picture of him in the center, “husband of Katherine and father of Damien,” I add, sticking a picture of his family up. “He is the Captain of Police and a decorated one at that,” I continue, as I hand out files to each of the guys containing all his background information. “People see him as a hero, a family man, a true credit to the town of Black Hallows. What they don’t see is this,” I press a few keys on the computer until pictures of him start appearing on the screen, all of him in compromising positions with underage boys.
“Baizen is a predator. He preys on innocent young boys, befriending them through the system, and then raping them before making them disappear,” I turn back to the guys. Asher and Lincoln are emotionless, having already known all of this. They are my information collectors after all. Logan is reading his file and no doubt committing every inch of it to memory, whereas Marcus and Jace look a little green at what they are seeing. I turn back to the screen and make it go dark, the images there aren’t pleasant, and we don’t need reminders of what a sick fuck he is. I take a seat and wait for the guys to process the information.
“If you have proof of his crimes, why haven’t you handed him in?” Jace asks with curiosity.
“To who?” I laugh slightly. “His police buddies, who he is the boss of? Or Carter Fitzgerald the Governor who he golfs with every Sunday?” I don’t mean to sound bitchy, but these guys really need to grasp that the only way out for anyone involved with Elliot Donovan is death. Baizen is one of Elliot’s inside men, complicit in all of his crimes and a master at keeping them covered. It’s time for him to disappear.
“What’s your plan?” Lincoln speaks directly to me. He knows this is my show, he and the others are just along for the ride.
I blow out a breath, “Honestly? I don’t know yet. It needs to be discreet,” I muse as I rub little circles on either side of my temples, like that will help me conjure up a solution to all my problems.
“I may have something,” Marcus pipes in, looking down at his phone with a frown.
“What is it, brother?” Lincoln questions him.
He passes his phone to him as he speaks, “I just received a report signed off by Damien Baizen that the fire at the loft was an accident."
Asher grunts, “Yeah, and I’m the son of a fucking saint,” he drawls, his voice brimming with contempt.
Lincoln passes the phone to me so I can read what’s in the report. Sure enough, even with all the evidence of foul play that was left at the scene, the fire has still been ruled an accident. I fucking hate money, it really can buy anything. I spin on my chair until I’m facing the board again, my gaze locks onto the picture of Steven smiling down at his wife and son.
I smile when the idea hits me, “Time for us to capture a little incentive, boys. We are done playing in the shadows.”
Chapter 34
MARCUS
Elle is quiet as we drive across town to get to the loft, well, what’s left of it anyway. She isn’t tense or even fearful, just calm. It unnerves me. Her plan seems simple but as I have come to learn, nothing is ever fucking simple. I’m running through a range of scenarios in my head and praying none of them come true. I just want something to go smoothly for once.
It’s just the two of us in her jeep, the others are following behind us in a brand-new SUV that is identical to what Lincoln had. Elle gave it to him like it was nothing to just hand over a car worth thousands of dollars. I guess to her, it was nothing. She’s no longer heir to the King fortune but somehow managed to find herself with even more money than before.
“Do you think this will work?” I ask, breaking the tension as we pull up alongside the police cruiser that is waiting for us. Her plan was simple, use Steven Baizen’s son to get him to come to us.
“Only one way to find out,” she answers simply, before turning off the engine and climbing out, so I follow suit.
Damien Baizen looks pristine in his uniform, every bit an official man of the law like you would imagine. His brow is furrowed as he looks back and forth from the paperwork in his hand, to the black vessel that I used to call a home. He looks between the two like he is trying to work something out. I clear my throat to get his attention and he startles, like he didn’t even realize we had arrived.
He shakes his head like he is clearing his thoughts and reaches out a hand for me to shake, “Mr. Riviera, I presume?” he asks. I have to hold in my grunt at his fake bravado, knowing full well he will have seen my file. They may not be aware that I committed fucking murder, but I have enough of a rap sheet to be on a first name basis with most of the officers down at the precinct. Although, this is the first time I have ever crossed paths with Officer Baizen.
I shake his hand and squeeze his fingers slightly, he winces before he can stop himself and I smile. I feel Elle watching us before she thrusts out her own hand.
“Elle King,” she says, casually tossing her name out. We both see the recognition in his eyes.
“Miss King? What a pleasure,” he holds out his hand and I frown at the genuine tone of his voice, like he really is happy to meet her. What the fuck?
Elle’s face crumples in slight confusion, but she accepts his hand, as we both clock the other guys creeping up behind him. Elle smiles a sinister smile which shouldn’t turn me on but fuck me it does.
“Don’t speak too soon, little Baizen,” Elle responds without remorse, as Logan comes up behind him and slides the syringe into his neck at the same time that Lincoln and Jace reach out to grab him. Elle told me Logan is following in Arthur’s footsteps and studying medicine at college, making him our in-group pharmacist. It wasn’t hard to figure out a dosage of Flunitrazepam to get him to take a little nap. Elle doesn’t react to his flailing body as he slips into unconsciousness, “Get him in the trunk,” she simply requests, and the guys follow her instruction. Once he is locked inside, we all look to her as she surveys the surrounding area.
“Pretty boy take his car and burn it. Lo, you go with him. Superman, you hack his phone and get Daddy dearest to where we want him. Ash make sure any cameras that may have caught him on his way here are wiped. Marcus and I will get everything set up and keep an eye on our incentive until we get Steven,” she rattles off her list of commands, we all nod our heads in unison. A queen commanding her troops.
It doesn’t take long for Elle’s demands to be met and before I know it we are parked outside a seedy bar on the outskirts of town in a blacked out van. Lincoln used Damien’s phone to text his father, telling him something bad had happened, and that he needed to meet him urgently, away from prying eyes. Of course, the Captain of police knew just the place for that kind of conversation. I want to laugh when I think of all the officers at my house the day, I found my dad's body. All of them were so professional looking for evidence and offering me their condolences. What a bunch of fucking bullshit that was.
Logan insisted that the best plan of action was for him to go into the bar and use h
is good looks and charm, his words not mine, to lure our target into the bathroom. Elle begrudgingly agreed when we all decided that was a good idea. She sits next to me fidgeting with a laser focus on the bar.
I reach out and grip her hand in mine, “He is going to be fine,” I say trying to placate her, but she just scoffs at me.
“You don’t know that, River. Baizen is a fucking demon. I have every right to be worried,” she snaps back, but I know her tone is more aimed at the situation than me.
Her phone vibrates before I can respond to her. She whips it out faster than anything, reading whatever is on her screen, before blowing out a breath of relief, and cracking a smile as she shows it to me.
Logan: Officially the saggiest balls I have ever fucking seen *gag emoji* come help me get the fat fuck out the back door he is heavy as shit.
She turns to speak to Linc who is behind us, “He needs help getting him out, can you go help him, and I will back the van around?”
“On it,” he is moving before he finishes speaking and pushes past the hog-tied body of Damien Baizen that is ‘sleeping’ peacefully on the van floor. Elle waits until he gets out before she drives around the back entrance and reverses up to the exit there. I can hear Asher tapping away in the back, no doubt wiping any possible camera feeds. Two minutes later the van doors are flung open and Jace moves to help Logan and Lincoln heave the unconscious body of Steven Baizen inside.
We drive for two fucking hours, until we find ourselves in the middle of fucking nowhere. Like seriously, an hour of that was without seeing one other car or main road. I haven’t a clue where we are, but it seems Elle knows exactly where to go. It’s pitch black when we finally stop, but the headlights of the van highlight what looks like a cabin. It looks run down and deserted, like no one has inhabited it in years. It also seems to be our final destination. Elle turns off the engine and climbs out and the others follow suit.
The guys and I drag the two Baizens out of the van and follow Elle as she moves towards the cabin. She pushes open the door, coughing at some dust that escapes. She pulls a flashlight from the bag she is carrying before switching it on and moving inside. We continue after her as she approaches the middle of the room and lifts an old dusty carpet aside, revealing a door in the floor. When she opens it and disappears down it, I look at my brothers who look just as shocked as I do, Asher looks emotionless as always and Logan looks like he is genuinely enjoying himself.
We all move at once to follow her down there, not taking any regard for either of the Baizens as we drag them along. Their heads hit each step of the stairs, as we descend through the door on the floor. Elle flicks on the lights when we get down there and my mouth opens in shock. What the fuck is this place? The whole room is grey concrete, the floor, the walls, even the fucking ceiling. One wall is lined with weapons, some of which I haven’t even got a clue how you would use them.
Elle seems comfortable here, so I know this isn’t the first time she’s been here.
“Damn sis, the improvements look great,” Logan whistles his approval, confirming he has also been here before.
“Yeah, the drain is a particularly good addition,” Asher draws as he surveys things and true to his psycho form, he is smiling sinisterly at some of the weapons hung up.
Elle finally turns around and looks at the five of us, ignoring the two bodies before us completely.
“This is going to be done bloody and without mercy,” she warns, “if you can’t handle that then now is the time to leave,” she gestures to the steps behind us but no one even flinches. That satisfies her and she nods slightly before turning and rummaging around until she finds what she needs.
She hands us all plastic jumpsuits and some gloves, “Suit up, boys.”
She steps into her own suit before pulling on gloves. Then she retrieves some plastic sheeting and starts lining a large area of the floor with it until it is almost fully covered and places a metal chair in the center. She waits until we are all dressed in the stuff, she gave us, before giving us another instruction.
“Little Baizen in the corner for now, put Steven in the chair,” there is no emotion in her voice as she talks, just the fire of revenge in her eyes. She is right, this will be bloody.
Chapter 35
ELLE
By the time Steven Baizen starts to wake from his forced slumber, I’m practically giddy. I have thought about killing each of Elliot’s men multiple times, fantasized about it even. How I would make them squirm, how their blood would squirt from their bodies and how the life would drain from their eyes. So finally having one of them in front of me, is like Christmas coming early.
He wakes slowly at first, his eyes flickering with the struggle to open them, until he tries to move his tied-up arms and startles awake, taking in his surroundings. His eyes focus in and out as he surveys the room with a panicked, confused look at what he finds. It is a bit of a masterpiece if I do say so myself.
The plastic sheeting covers almost everything, we don’t want any pesky evidence being left behind. The walls also have about a hundred images of Captain Baizen in a variety of sickening and compromising positions with children. His legs are tied to the bottom of the chair, his wrists too and the chair has a high back allowing me to strap his head to it also. His eyes dance around the room frantically, until they land on his son in the corner. Damien is still out cold thanks to the extra dose from Logan, but his mere unconscious presence is enough to get Steven flailing.
The guys are all against the back wall, unseen and waiting, watching. They know this is my show to run and not to interfere unless I ask.
“Hello?” Steven croaks out in an uneasy tone and I smother a laugh. Nothing like the brave, predatory Captain now is he.
“Hello, Mr. Baizen,” I answer from the shadows and even though he can’t see me, his gaze still swings to my direction.
“Who...Who, who are you?” his voice trembles slightly, as he stumbles over his words. So pathetic.
I step into the light until my face comes into view and our eyes lock on one another. I watch as his shoulders relax at my presence. A mistake on his part. He recognizes me instantly. It may have been a few years since he has set eyes on me, but I look just like my mother. Steven used to frequent our house on occasion, whenever my father was looking to show off his connections to his bullshit friends.
“Miss King?” his voice sounds a little calmer but still the undertone of panic can be heard and so formal like his son, manners run in the family I see. “What are you doing here?” he adds, trying to look around but failing.
“Why, I am here to do your job for you, Steven,” I reply sweetly, moving closer towards him. I see the moment his eyes drop to take in the coveralls I am wearing over my clothes, he gulps.
“I don’t understand,” he exclaims, and he is back to stuttering, I roll my eyes.
“Of course, you don’t. Did you think you could protect him forever? That your crimes would go unnoticed alongside his?” my voice is calm, but my heartbeat is so erratic, I wouldn’t be surprised if the rest of the room could hear it.
“Who?” he starts but my temper breaks slightly, cutting him off.
“Elliot fucking Donovan,” I grit through my teeth with a smile. I don’t want to play any games with him, “The devil who lines your pockets, so you keep his darkness hidden. You know the girls he rapes, the drugs he runs, the guns he sells.” I take a step forward, my voice getting louder, “Ring any fucking bells?”
He flinches at my tone but still tries to force some bravado into the situation he finds himself in. “This isn’t a game you want to play, little girl,” he sneers, and I laugh. A full head thrown back, belly laugh. This fucking moron.
I move until he will be able to feel my breath on his face as I talk, “You’re right, this isn’t a game.” I grin as I lean in further until my mouth is at his ear, “This is war, and you picked the wrong fucking side.”
He doesn’t notice the gun until the bullet shatters his kneec
ap. My silencer muffled the sound of the shot, but not his screams of pain. No, those I devour.
“You shot me, you fucking little slut,” he splutters, stating the obvious as I step back and watch the blood pulse from his leg.
“Here is how things are going to go,” I say, gesturing wildly with the gun. “You will answer my questions to my satisfaction, or you will find out how fucking creative I can really be with a man’s body,” I shrug, willing him to underestimate my skill set, so I can really make him pay.
His breaths are coming quick and fast as he pants through the pain with a groan. He looks at me with pure disdain, “Fuck you,” he spits at me and I gleam with appreciation.
I shake my head with another laugh, “Wrong answer, Steven,” I move before he can even register my next action, when my knuckle dusted fist connects with his face, I hear the crack of his cheek.
“Fuckkkkk!” He yells out, as tears start to stream from his eyes. “You can’t do this to me, you fucking little cunt, I am the Captain of police, the law of this town,” he seethes at me through gritted teeth.
“Oh yes, the high and mighty, untouchable aptain Baizen,” I drawl sarcastically before I look down at him, “How the mighty have fallen.”
I move towards the table at the side to assess the weapons I have laid out there. Time for some fun. I pluck some pliers first and twist them over in my hands to inspect them. Perfect.
I turn back to my prey and move until I am right in front of him again, “Let’s try this again, shall we?” I smile as I slip the pliers around one of his fingers. “Tell me what Elliot Donovan knows about me?”
His focus is on his captured finger and his hesitation makes me angry, he still isn’t taking me seriously. I take great pleasure in the crunching of his finger as I force the pliers together. His finger falls to the floor as he screams out in pain again.
