Looking around Addy spotted Reagan; she was a beautiful woman, sweet as can be, and good to her very core. Addy watched her friend rushing around the room trying to clean things up. But as soon as she would pick up something, someone else would lay something else down. Addy also noticed the sneers and verbal barbs some of the people in the room were giving her sweet friend. She wanted to get up and defend her, but she knew it wasn’t her place and could cause more harm than good, at this point.
Addy admired Reagan’s sun-kissed skin, light brown hair, and copper cat eyes. She always thought she looked mystical like a fairy princess with the personality to go with the looks. Addy always thought she should be in a little house with a white picket fence, caring for her prince charming and two-point-five kids, not living at the MC trading sex for a place to live. She didn’t judge and never would, to each their own and all that, but Addy had hoped Reagan would have come to her is she was in trouble. Then again, look where she was sitting; maybe this was the place to go when everything when to shit.
Reagan's family was bad news, and even though Addy didn’t have all the details, she knew something horrible had happened that forced Reagan’s hand. She also knew deep down, Reagan didn’t want to put Addy in the line of fire if things went bad. Now, Addy wondered if she was any different from Reagan because the moment she got into trouble, she was beating down the MC’s door herself. What would she be willing to do to save herself and Cathy from what those men promised? The answer, pretty much anything.
Addy was getting madder by the second, the days and nights events catching up to her, but watching the Caddy women treat Reagan so poorly was getting to her. Val and her tribe of vipers were leading the charge, even dumping shit on the floor just to antagonize Reagan further. Addy had always hated Val, she was and always would be a mean girl. There were many times that Addy just wanted to punch her face in. Having lived in Defiance all her life, she knew the dynamic of the MC; several of the women were Puppets, Club property, but many of them were hanger-ons, women who came out to get the thrill of banging a biker and then went back to their normal lives.
Val and her crew were hangers-ons with a twist. People who came to the Club to fuck and party. She and Link had been hooking up since high school. Val was married to a man that came from the wealthier side of the tracks, like Val’s entire family, but when she wanted to slum, she always came to the MC and acted like she owned the place. The one thing that Addy and many others couldn’t figure out was why the Brothers in the MC allowed it. Link was the Vice President, but he hadn’t claimed Val in any way other than to fuck her. Cathy was an Old Lady and a good friend, so Addy knew how the Club worked from the outside looking in; then again, none of this was her business, and she knew it.
Val had just pushed and an entire bottle of red wine off the table and onto the floor right in front of Reagan. Addy had had enough she got up from the stool she was sitting on and was just about to make her way over to the that fucking table and teach Valerie Haslet some manners. Thankfully, Tuck walked in from the hallway he had disappeared into a while ago.
“I hope you're planning on cleaning that mess up sweetheart?”
The bitch-incarnate’s entire demeanor changed. She was beside herself trying to talk to Tuck.
“Of course, I am so sorry, I’m just so clumsy sometimes.” She was batting her eyelashes and sticking her perky, doctor-made breasts out for all she was worth. Addy had to laugh at the display. When Tuck turned away without saying a word, Addy looked right at the evil bitch and wasn’t surprised to see the same venom she always did, she and Val hated each other to the core.
Tuck didn’t notice the quiet underplay going on between her and Val or didn’t comment, Addy didn’t know and didn’t care.
“Addy, I got a hold of our lawyer, he said the papers are already down at county, but he would do his best to stop them from being processed. Unfortunately, he has to be in court, so that will take some time. If you want to head home, I can bring them by later if he gets them or you can hang out here? If you hang here, I’ll have to ask you to hang out in one of the rooms, the Club is off limits to civilians except on Friday’s, okay?”
Addy had been watching Tuck carefully, he was saying more with his eyes than just the words that came out of his mouth. He wanted her to stay, and she sure as hell was going to, but he also wanted her out of the view and hearing of his Club. She could understand that, she kind of hoped he put her in a room with no windows and a big steel door
“I will stay here if that is okay, I really need those papers,” surprised her voice came out clear
“You got it, sweetheart, follow me.”
Addy followed Tuck upstairs, she assumed it was where the Brothers had rooms. Maybe they had guest rooms. She didn’t want to think about what had gone on in any of the rooms or what still might be going on. She wasn’t a germaphobe or anything, but she wondered what kind of scene a black light would produce. The MC reputation was legendary. The upstairs wasn’t as messy as the downstairs, but it was still far from clean.
Tuck stopped at a door and then unlocked it; it didn’t take Addy long to figure out where she was, Whiskey’s room. It smelled like him, a scent she would never forget even after all this time, woodsy with just enough musk to make her panties wet. Damn, she needed to get it together.
“Stay here, okay? There is a stereo over there, play some music and just hang out for a while. I will come and get you as soon as I hear back from our Lawyer.” Addy didn’t ask any questions or say a word. No way was she going to let Blank and Ogre hear where she was or how it was affecting her. Tuck nodded, turned, and walked out the door. Addy didn’t miss the scrape of the key in the door knob or the click of the lock engaging. Tuck had sealed her in tight.
Looking around the room, she noticed it wasn’t as messy as the rest of the Clubhouse. The bed wasn’t made, and there were a few odds and ends on the tables beside the huge-assed bed. The trash can was full, and there were clothes on the floor, but other than that, not too bad. There was a big, flat screen tv in front of the bed and a chest of drawers underneath it. At first, she didn’t know what to do, she didn’t want to invade Aiden’s space, but it looked like she didn’t have a choice.
She walked over to the door opposite of the one she just came through and found a closet. Before she could stop herself, Addy had stepped forward, grabbing the sleeve of a leather jacket and brought it to her nose.
Fuck, this was almost too much after everything else. Forcing herself back out of the closet, Addy closed the door and walked to the only other door she hadn’t open. Opening it, she found the bathroom, nothing special, but a clean enough tub, toilet, and sink. Addy wanted to take a bath, her body ached from the abuse she had been gone through, but she knew that wouldn’t happen without taking off the wire. She didn’t know if she could do that without causing more problems, so she left the bathroom and sat on the bed. Soon sitting became laying, then cuddling into the blankets. With Aiden’s scent and things around her, the last thing Addy felt and thought before sleep took her away was that she was safe.
Chapter 10
Whiskey felt like a red-hot demon, he was so pissed. The only other time in his life he felt this was when the booze he was named after ran through his veins. It was like a trigger had been switched, and he was someone else, mean, mad, and a bit psychotic. Tuck and Link thought to push Addison out to fend for herself. Well fuck them, they had another think coming because that wouldn’t happen. He had a mission, and he would complete it then go back and claim his woman. Addy might put up a fight, but he didn’t care, this was how it was always supposed to be and would have been if people would have minded their own business.
Shit, even in his rage he knew that wasn’t the truth, he had fucked-up back then, but he wouldn’t do it again. Addy was safe. He knew that for the time being, Tuck would protect her, and he was okay with that, for now. Creed and Slim were following him through the back of the MC property. It would take longer to get to
the caves, but he needed to keep his shit together another mile, and then they would need to set out on foot. Whiskey didn’t want to take a chance in alerting anyone that might be at the caves to their arrival.
Parking the ATV, he signaled the other two men to do the same. Turning off the engine, Whiskey got off and took in his surroundings, everything was quiet. They were far enough from the caves not to draw attention, but close enough to observe any disturbances in the land. This part of the farm was wooded, and Whiskey noticed right off the lack of any noise, no birds, insects, or anything else. It could be because of the ATV’s, but he doubted it; waiting a little longer, there still were no sounds.
All the men in the MC were ex-military, they could communicate without the use of words. With a few flicks and gestures of his hands, he could let the guys know they were continuing on foot, but needed to be watchful, something was off. Whiskey felt it, but couldn’t put his finger on it. The closer they got to the cave the more concerned he became, there were tracks everywhere in the loose dirt. Several different tire tracks and even more footprints littered the area. Whoever had been back here wasn’t trying to be careful, and that didn’t bode well for them.
Crouching down, Whiskey signaled Slim and Creed to branch off and recon the area. The area was quiet, and he didn’t detect any movement, but that didn’t mean that someone wasn’t in the cave. Inching closer, he waited and watched, still nothing. About five minutes in, he heard a very human grunt and soon after a groan. Someone was definitely in the cave. Whiskey pulled his 1911 Colt 45 from his side holster and continued his slow advance on the cave.
Creed was coming in on the opposite side of him, but didn’t pay the man any more attention. They were trained for this shit, and he trusted Creed to do what he was supposed to if the situation warranted it. Getting to the lip of the cave, Whiskey hung back, listening; there were two possibly three men standing, talking, taunting, and laughing at the man he assumed was the person who had groaned. Years of training allowed him to visualize the cavern without stepping foot in the place.
The voices allowed him to determine where everyone was standing. At the mention of Cathy’s name and some crude comments on what the fuckers planned on doing to her, Whiskey stood, stepped into the opening and fired, downing two of the men before they even realized what was going on. The third man started yelling, but Creed quickly took him out. Whiskey walked further into the cave and saw something he hoped he never would again in his life.
Crank was bound and gagged with cuts and bullet holes in his body. The fuckers had done a real number on his friend, his friend that wasn’t moving and was breathing shallow breaths. He needed to get him out of here and to help, ASAP. Whiskey was aware of his surroundings, but was depending on Creed and Slim to scope out any threats. Whether in the service or the MC you had to be able to count on your Brothers having your back, so business could be taken care of without worrying who was coming up on your six.
Creed called the all clear, but Whiskey still felt like something was off, they needed to move and move quickly. Whiskey pulled his Bowie knife out of his boot and freed Crank then picked the behemoth up in a fireman’s carry and made tracks out of the cave. Whiskey just hoped he was doing the right thing that Crank held on long enough to get him some help. Whiskey looked back, Creed and Slim were right on his heels.
“Blow the entrance, I don’t want any of those fuckers coming out again. Take pictures of the fallen and anything else, but blow the fucker up sky high, understand?” Whiskey ordered, making a split-second decision
Creed and Slim didn’t question him just turned back and did as he asked. As one of the Enforcers, it was his job to protect the Club, and he took that shit seriously. They needed to buy some time and blowing this fucker up would provide that. Moving back to the ATV Whiskey moved at a steady pace, but nowhere near as fast as he would without 280 lbs. of dead weight on his shoulder. He kept on talking to Crank, but not once did the man answer him back.
Once he made it to the ATVs, he laid Crank down and did another assessment of the man’s condition. His pulse was weak and thready, and some of his wounds were open and spewing blood. Grabbing the med kit attached to the ATV, he made quick work of patching up Crank the best he could. He knew he couldn’t help him much with the supplies he had on hand, but hoped it was enough to get him back to the Clubhouse for proper care. Once he was satisfied with the job he had done, he called Tuck and advised him of what had happened.
Tuck was all business, acknowledged his report and ordered him and the others to come back to base. As soon as Whiskey hung up the phone, the compression of the blast nearly knocked him over. Shit, those boys didn’t mess around with the explosives, they probably took down half the cave instead of just blocking off the entrance. Fuck. Whiskey moved Crank onto the ATV, it wouldn’t be a pleasant ride for the man, but it would be quick. Before he started the ATV, Creed and Slim ran into the area with big-ass grins on their faces. Fuck, these guys were green.
“Now that you have alerted the whole county of what the hell is going on, get on your ATV and get the out of here. Split up. I’m taking Crank directly to the Clubhouse, you fuckers are a diversion if anyone was close enough to hear that shit, understand?”
Both men nodded, no longer smiling.
Whiskey didn’t take his time getting back to the Clubhouse, pushing the ATV as fast as he could. He hoped that Crank held on long enough to get him home. Pulling right up to the back door, Whiskey noticed that Tuck was standing there with the doors open, a gurney at the door, and Doc was also waiting. As soon as he pulled up, both men moved forward and retrieved Crank placing him on the gurney. Doc assessed him while Tuck moved the stretcher into the building. Whiskey took a couple of seconds to just take a breath. Things were about to get worse for the RBMC.
Whiskey parked the ATV and went into the Clubhouse. The place was deserted, there wasn’t a single person in the front room, not that he had expected there to be; Tuck had issued his orders, and they had been carried out. Whiskey was tempted to search out Addison, but refrained, other things needed to be done first. Walking down the hall, he entered the room Talon called mission control. The room was on the interior of the Clubhouse, no windows and only one door in and out.
The room was bare, except the plethora of monitors, keyboards, and other technical equipment, several chairs, the desks, not much else. Trigger was on monitoring duty. Whiskey stepped forward and watched the monitors showing every angle of the RBMC Clubhouse. The parking lot was full of cages and bikes, but Whiskey knew the people had been ushered out without their rides.
Noticing nothing out of the ordinary, he was about to ask about the other teams when his eye caught one of the monitors that showed the back of the property. Link was running up to the back entrance like the hounds of hell were after him, a small covered bundle in his arms, Tank close at his heels, moving just as fast.
Whiskey took off at a run out of Mission Control. He was just able to open the door when Link and Tank barreled in. Link started yelling for Doc as soon as the door closed. It wasn’t Doc that came running in, but Tuck. “Shit, what happened?”
Link was talking a mile a minute. “Shit man, we didn’t find Crank, but fuck man, those fuckers did a number on Cathy. She needs Doc, I don’t know what all the have done to her man, but it is fucking bad.”
“Come on.” All of them started toward the rooms that had been made into a small infirmary. Link gently laid Cathy down, but didn’t let her go. Whiskey had medic training just like all the guys, but with the way Link was standing guard over Cathy, he couldn’t get anywhere near her to assess the situation. Cathy was wrapped in the blanket with only her one arm and hand sticking out and from the looks of it, if the rest of her body was just as bad, then they were all in trouble.
Link had a look of cold fury in his eyes that Whiskey had only seen a few of times in his life. He was on the edge of losing it and fast. Someone needed to get his ass under control and get him the hell out of th
e room before he exploded. Thankfully, he wasn’t the one who had to do it; Tuck grabbed his shoulder and made him look him in the eyes, “How bad is it?”
“Fuck man, they, shit, I don’t know all they did to her, but it’s bad, real bad. Doc needs to take a look. There isn’t a part of her that isn’t battered or bruised, but fuck man she fought. Those fuckers looked just as bad as she did before I blew their fucking brain’s out. Shit man, she passed out calling for Crank right before we got here. What the hell are we going to do?
“Crank’s going to be fine and taking care of his women before you know it. Doc is working on him now. You need to call Katie and get her ass over here to take care of Cathy. Let me and Whiskey take a look and see what we can do, but Doc is busy with Crank, so make that call Link, and then we will meet up and figure out what our next move is, all right?”
Whiskey knew one of them could have called Katie, fuck, he was pretty sure that Brass was already texting her, but Tuck was giving Link a job so he could get himself back under control. His brother might be one of the biggest asses on the planet, but seeing women beaten and bruised tore him up like nothing else.
When Link finally relented, let go of Cathy’s hand, and walked out the door. Whiskey pulled the blanket back and saw what nightmares were made of; those fuckers had not only beat her, but branded and stabbed her. Her body was a mix of bruises, welts, and cuts. There was so much blood, he didn’t even know where it all was coming from. Shit, they needed to get her to a hospital, they were not equipped to handle this on their own.
“Prez,” Whiskey said. The tone of his voice must have triggered something in the man, or he was now focusing on Cathy’s exposed body because he started barking orders.
“Creed, get one of the fucking SUV’s and bring it around back. Whisk get on the phone and call Talon. We need him to make private arrangements at Defiance General, then call Katie and have her make arrangements with that Doctor we used a while back for Gypsy. Have them fuckers waiting at the door for her and Creed to arrive. Tell her I will be there as soon as I can.”
Whiskey: Ruthless Bastards (RBMC Book 1) Page 9
