by Nina Levine
I jerked my chin towards the front door of the clubhouse. “Go. But tell him I want to see him today. Or tonight. I don’t give a fuck which, but make it within the next eight hours.”
She continued glaring at me as she picked up her keys and phone. Without another word, she exited the building. Thank fuck Nitro was getting out; I wouldn’t have to deal with her anymore.
“You think you two will ever get on?” Kree asked as she wiped the counter of the bar where I sat.
“I doubt it. She’s too fucking stubborn. I don’t know how the fuck Nitro puts up with her.”
Kree slowed her movements. “From what I’ve seen, you’ve chosen women with a stubborn streak in the past too. It’s funny what love does to us.”
Love fucked people up. Of that, I was sure. She was right, though—I’d fallen for women who challenged me endlessly. Never again.
And fuck if Lily didn’t slide into my mind then.
It had been two days since I’d changed her locks and almost fucked her. It was getting harder to turn her away, so I’d made sure I was nowhere around when she came to see Skylar yesterday. And I’d do the same today. Hell, I’d do it every day going forward. Lily was an illicit pleasure I wouldn’t allow myself.
When I didn’t respond to what she’d said, Kree changed the subject. “Hyde told me I might be able to go home soon. That you guys are almost finished dealing with stuff. How long do you think that’ll be?”
“Hyde wouldn’t have said that, Kree. You’ve misunderstood.” We still had to take care of Romano, and fuck knew how long that would take. I wasn’t about to make her a promise I couldn’t keep.
“What wouldn’t I have said?” Hyde asked, taking the stool next to me.
Kree looked at him. “I thought you said I’d be able to go home soon.”
“Fuck no. I said home was looking good, meaning we’re all itching to get back there.”
I kept it to myself, but I also wanted her husband taken care of before she left here. I’d mentioned it again to Zane, who’d told me he’d have news for me on that in the next couple of days. He’d gone past the deadline I’d originally set, but with everything going on, I’d let it slide.
My phone rang, taking my attention off the conversation.
Axe.
“Tell me you’ve got something good for me,” I said. We’d been waiting to hear more about Romano since he’d been arrested, but there had been radio silence on that.
“It’s good, but not completely what you’re after. Still nothing on where Romano is or what they’re doing with him. Shit has been locked tight on that. But Zane and Devil have found your rat.”
He was right—it was good news.
My entire body thrummed with anticipation.
I was way past the point of ready to deal with this motherfucker.
“Who? And where is he?”
“It’s Tate. They’ve found him in Gosford and are on their way back to the warehouse with him. I’ll let you know when they’ve arrived.”
Fucking hell. Tate was Storm. He’d turned nomad years ago after we’d had a disagreement. But I wouldn’t have figured him for a fucking rat.
I eyed Hyde after ending the call. “Devil and Zane have our rat. It was Tate.”
He scowled. Hyde and Tate had never gotten on. “That motherfucker will pay for this shit.”
I nodded, my mind already churning with a million fucking questions for the cunt. “Yeah, he will.” Moving off my stool, I added, “I’m gonna go have another chat with Ivy. See if she can shed any light on this.”
I found her a few minutes later, lying on her bed, staring at the ceiling. She didn’t look at me when she realised I stood in the doorway, but rather she kept staring up as she said, “I want you to let me leave. Tony isn’t a threat to me anymore.” Her voice revealed her bleakness, but that wasn’t new to me. I’d watched her mood shift over the last week, from hot-tempered to this resigned attitude. She hadn’t argued with me in the past seven days. She’d pretty much kept to her room and stayed quiet. I’d avoided her because I didn’t want us to get into shit again. But this new mood concerned me.
Resting against the doorjamb, I crossed my arms over my chest. “He’s a threat until he’s dead.”
“I have somewhere I can go. Somewhere he won’t find me.”
“Where?”
“A friend.” She finally looked at me. “Please, King. I need to get back to my life, and I can’t do that here.” She sat up and swung her legs over the edge of the bed so she faced me. “I thought maybe we could find a way to get on after I was sick. You seemed to let your walls down a little when we talked. But now I can see we’ll always argue over stupid things. It’s just who we are, but I don’t want that in my life. It’s too hard, and I’m too sad over everything to keep fighting with you.”
Fuck.
I hated seeing her like this. It stirred something deep inside me that was long buried. Something I’d left behind and forgotten after one too many betrayals when I was younger.
Compassion.
I used to feel it, and maybe I still did every now and then, but only for the very few I allowed close. This feeling teasing its way out from the depths where I’d shoved it differed, though, to anything I’d allowed in the last fifteen years. It disturbed me in its intensity. I didn’t want to feel it. Had no need for it in my life. But I couldn’t fucking ignore it because it was right there as I listened to Ivy. In my chest and my gut and my head. It just fucking sat there, waiting for me to do something with it.
“Where’s your friend?” Just asking that question filled me with misgiving. I didn’t want to put her back out there where her husband could hurt her, but fuck, keeping her here was killing her light. Maybe I had to let her go.
“He’s in Sydney.”
“Who is it, Ivy? I need to vet him before I consider this.”
She stood and walked to me. “You don’t need to check him out. He and I have been friends for years. You just need to stop thinking you’re responsible for my happiness. I’ll admit, I came here with a lot of hate in my heart. I hadn’t fully let go of what happened between us, but I feel like I’m starting to. And for the first time in years, I feel hopeful about my life. Tony kept me down for so long that it fucked with my thinking. This time away from him is helping clear my head.” She paused and moved even closer to me. Smiling up at me, she placed her hand on my cheek and said softly, “You don’t have to take care of me anymore, King. I can do that myself.”
It could have been her touch, or maybe the way she looked at me differently to how she had since she’d been here, or fuck, it could have been my screwed-up thinking while talking to her, but I found myself agreeing to something I never thought I would. “You can leave. Not today, though, but probably tomorrow. I’ve got something to take care of first.”
She moved her hand from my cheek and smiled. “Thank you.”
The moment caught me by surprise. This was the Ivy I’d loved. Softer, open, laid bare. Vulnerable. When there were no walls between us, anything felt possible. I liked the sense of calm and ease that brought with it.
I nodded. “I have a question for you. Did you know Tony had a club member in his pocket?”
“No. Why?”
I straightened, uncrossing my arms. “We’ve found a rat, and I know Tony had someone feeding him club information, but I don’t know if that information was coming from just one person or whether there are more out there I need to be looking for.”
She shrugged. “I didn’t know about this, sorry. But it wouldn’t surprise me if he had more than one. Tony has always been anal about knowing every little detail about everything, so it’d make sense that he wouldn’t just rely on one person.”
“Fuck,” I muttered.
“I’m sorry you have to deal with this, King. It’s all my fault.” Her voice cracked as tears fell down her cheeks.
My arms were around her before I even thought about it. Pulling her close, I cupped the back of
her head and pressed it to my chest. “Don’t ever fucking apologise for shit you had no control over. This is all on Tony. Not you.”
Her arms circled me, and she held on tight. “If I’d never married him, this wouldn’t be happening to you now.”
If I hadn’t fucked our relationship all those years ago, she wouldn’t have married him. This was on me, not her, and I’d be the one to fix it.
Just under three hours later, I stared at our rat as he sat tied to a chair in the middle of our warehouse. Nervousness blazed from his eyes as he watched me. Good. He should have been fucking nervous, because what I had planned for him, he wouldn’t have wished on his worst enemy.
Dragging a chair over, I sat in front of him and yanked the gag from his mouth. “What’s it been, Tate, three years since we’ve spoken?”
He swallowed hard a few times, seemingly relieved to be rid of the gag. “Not fucking long enough.”
I felt surprisingly calm considering the anger raging through me and what I was about to do with it. But that was usually the way when I knew what was coming. It was only when shit crept up on me, catching me off guard that my crazy took over. I wasn’t sure which I preferred, but if I’d been put on the spot and forced to decide, I’d have to say this way was my preference. Having had the time to contemplate in painstaking detail every hurt I would inflict doubled my pleasure.
Every blow.
Every bruise.
Every cut.
The mental imagery was painted by the strokes of my wrath and tended to by my burning need for retribution. Sometimes that need was so strong and so violent I believed it wasn’t just about the matter at hand. I never forgot a wrong, and they had a way of adding up in my head. Every now and then, someone suffered at my hands when I was dancing to the beat of decades’ worth of hurts.
Today I had my fucking dancing shoes on.
“So you’ve been talking to Tony Romano about us. And the feds. Anyone else I should know about?”
His lips pulled up into a scowl. “I’ve got nothing to say to you, King.”
I arched a brow. “Really?”
He didn’t reply to that. Just sat there staring at me.
And still my calm state remained.
I lifted my gaze and looked at Hyde who stood behind him. Next to him was Devil. Behind me were Axe and Kick. Everyone was impatient for this to happen. Everyone but me. For once, I was enjoying taking it slowly.
“King.”
I turned at the sound of Nitro’s voice and found him walking my way. Standing, I took a step towards him, but thought better of my plan and, without warning, faced Tate again and punched him hard in the face, knocking him and the chair backwards. His head hit the cement floor with a hard whack, activating bright lights in my brain. Bright fucking lights of joy.
I then gave my attention to Nitro, grinning. “It’s about fucking time they let you out.”
“Yeah, brother.” He looked around at everyone before focusing his gaze on Tate. “So he’s our rat?”
I nodded. “He is.”
Nitro grunted as he stalked to where Tate lay sprawled on the ground. Pulling his knife from its sheath, he cut the ropes securing Tate to the chair, gripped his shirt, and yanked him to a standing position. Then, faster than I’d ever seen him move, he walked Tate backwards and slammed him against the brick wall. “Motherfucking cunt!” he roared. Pummelling him, he bloodied Tate up until his face was almost unrecognisable.
I gave him a little time to get that shit out of his system. Fuck knew, if I’d been locked up, I’d wanna beat the shit out of the guy who may have had something to do with keeping me there. Plus, I derived great satisfaction watching the pain Tate experienced at Nitro’s hands.
“Stop,” I ordered, joining them. “We need him conscious for most of this.”
Nitro punched him a couple more times before letting him fall to the ground. Raking his hand through his hair and jabbing a finger at me, he demanded, “When we take Ryland down, he’s mine.”
I nodded. “You get first shot at him, brother, but we share in that one, too. I’m saving some special shit for that cunt.” Looking down at Tate, I said, “Now, this one… he and I are gonna have some fun.”
Reefing him up, I moved him back to the chair and forced him down on to it. He grunted in pain as I settled him there. I gripped his face hard and bent to look into his eyes. “Do you know what one of my favourite sounds in the world is?” I squeezed his cheeks harder, zeroing in on the agony that caused. “That right there. Those little whimpers of pain. They light some dark shit up in my head.” I released his face, shoving it away from me before I sat on the chair across from him again. “However, I really would prefer to hear you detail everything you’ve given Romano and the feds, and you should know that if you don’t, I’m going to fuck you up in ways that will paint my mind the blackest of black. I will draw that shit out for days, weeks maybe. I’ll string you up here and drop by every night to remind you why you wished you’d just given me the information.” I leant forward, my face hardening. “I don’t fucking appreciate club members who turn their back on their brothers. I will make you bleed, and then the club will get their shot at you. By the time we’re finished, you won’t know your ass from your mouth, up from down, white from fucking black.” I sat back and crossed my arms over my chest. “On the other hand, you give me what I need, and we’ll take it easy on you.”
His eyes darted around the warehouse, between everyone here. I saw the fear in them, but I wondered how much more I’d have to push him to trigger that completely. I trained my men well—they didn’t give in to their fear easily. And Tate used to be one of my men, so fuck knew how many hours this would take.
He met my gaze again and spat some blood. “Do your worst, King. I’m not giving you what you want.”
I nodded. “Okay, if that’s the way you wanna play this, I can go along with that.” I stood and looked at Nitro. “Strip him and hang him upside down. I’m going to get everyone some food. When I get back, we’ll play.”
It took me eight hours to break him. And a lot of fucking torture. But I finally got the information I wanted, and I now knew what we were up against with the feds. He’d given them more than he gave Romano, and what he’d given them would fucking crucify us.
After I’d dragged every last piece of information from him, I stood silently watching him, contemplating what would convince a club member to turn on their brothers. It was something so foreign to me that I couldn’t even begin to wrap my head around it.
He lay on the ground at my feet, his body riddled with bruises, swelling, deep gashes, and blood. Every one of us had their turn at him, but now he was all mine, and while I was mentally exhausted from the day, my body was raring to go.
It tasted blood.
Knew what was coming.
Wouldn’t fucking stop until Tate’s last breath had been taken from him.
I crouched next to him. “Why did you do it?”
His breaths were laboured, and I knew he would struggle to answer me, but Goddammit, I wanted a fucking answer.
I forced one of his eyes open and demanded, “Why the fuck did you do it?”
He wheezed and attempted to open his mouth. It took him a bit, but he managed to get out, “Cash.”
Cash?
He fucking betrayed his club for some fucking cash?
I hadn’t expected that answer. Hell, I didn’t know what I expected, because I just couldn’t fucking understand any motivation to do what he did. But cash felt like an even bigger fuck you than any other reason.
I pushed up out of my crouch, angry. Angry as fucking shit. It was the kind of anger I would struggle to get out of my system.
“Fuck!” I roared, slamming my boot down onto him.
I kicked him over and over, trying desperately to rid my body of this fury.
Time slowed, or maybe it raced.
I had no concept of it while my depravity consumed me.
I kicked and beat and
slashed his last breath out of him.
For the club.
For me.
For the fucking code of loyalty he’d shat all over.
When I was done, I stared down at his lifeless form and started calculating the next step for the club. He’d screwed us over, but we weren’t down for the count yet. Not even fucking close. We were just getting started.
I took a shower, dressed in clean clothes and headed out to my bike after calling Kick to let him know Tate’s body needed to be disposed of. It was nearly 10:00 p.m. and I was wired. I needed to take the edge off, and the best way to do that was to fuck it out of my system.
I had two options.
Find a club whore to take care of that or finally get my fill of the pussy I couldn’t get out of my mind, to hell with the consequences.
33
Lily
* * *
“So you’re going fishing with him again?” I asked Brynn as I wandered through my house cleaning up, the phone wedged between my ear and my shoulder.
“Yes. You know what’s weird? I kinda like it with him.”
“Ah, that’s because he’s hot. I don’t think it has much to do with the fish.” I picked up the last sock on Robbie’s bedroom floor and straightened. “Are you sleeping with him yet?”
“Lil, he’s a prostitute. I don’t sleep with men that bang a hundred women a week.”
“A hundred? You have to be kidding.” I had no idea, though. Maybe she wasn’t. God, I was so naïve when it came to some things. Marrying your childhood sweetheart, having three kids and a busy job would do that to you. I just didn’t have the time or the energy to learn all the ways people had sex or how many people a prostitute slept with in a week. I really needed to change this.
Brynn laughed. “I was exaggerating. Anyway look, I have to hang up and do some shit before I go to sleep, but can I drop by in the morning and grab your picnic set?”
