by Emily Minton
“The asshole thinks he’s going to be able to take his secrets to the grave with him. I’ve worked him over, but he’s keeping his lips sealed,” Walker says as soon as I step into the room. “He won’t admit to anything, says he knows nothing about putting a hit on Tito’s daughter. He seems to think keeping quiet will save his life.”
Walker is cold, all the way to the bone. No one, not even me, knows his story. We all know he comes from Texas but nothing more. He joined Riot MC a few years ago, quickly rising through the ranks. A little less than a year ago, he earned the club Enforcers patch. He is good at getting answers, even when the person supplying those answers is unwilling to hand them over easily. Nothing, not a damn thing, is too dirty for him.
“I know he knows more than he’s giving up,” he states, shaking his head. “What do you think we should do, VP?”
“Guess we’re gonna have to teach the fucker differently.” Not missing a beat, I smirk at the asshole on the floor and say, “He’s gonna die either way. We need to make sure he understands that, if he tells us the truth, that death is gonna be less painful. If not, the dick is gonna die screaming.”
Tito planned on Brass and I teaching this bastard a lesson, but I made other plans. Not trusting anyone but Brass to watch Ronni, I left him at the house to make sure my woman was secure and decided Walker could work as back-up. I don’t even need him for this shit. I can break this dickhead on my own.
Walking over to his head, I glare down at him. “You think you’re better than us. Always tried your best to make Ronni feel less than you for no other reason than her dad was a biker, but you’re gonna die by the hands of a dirty biker.”
Ronni has talked about him a lot over the last few weeks, telling me how he trash-talked Tito all the time. She told me how he got off talking about her dad, putting him down, and making her feel like shit. He called Tito everything from a criminal to a piece of trash, saying the same shit over and over until he made her cry. Every time she tried to take up for her father, tried to say he was a good man, she got in trouble with her mother and stepdad. She explained how he seemed to get off on her punishment like he enjoyed watching her get in trouble. I want to make him pay for every tear she shed.
Miles tries to talk, but the gag in his mouth muffles his words, a gag made from a kind of bandana every biker uses to keep from inhaling dust. I smile, loving the fact that he has been rendered mute with nothing more than a piece of cloth. I want him to choke on every speck of dust that cloth has seen.
I place my boot on his neck and press down, making sure he feels the pressure. “How does it feel, knowing a person you consider trash is going to take you out?”
When he starts turning blue, Walker lays his hand on my shoulder. “Tito really wants the pleasure of ending his life. That’s not gonna happen if you don’t move your foot.”
I slowly let off the pressure, not moving my boot off his neck. “Why should the Pres get to have all the fun?”
Walker chuckles, turning away. I watch as he walks away and grabs a blowtorch from the wall. I keep my eyes trained on him as he looks around, finally finding the Riot MC brand. A smile spreads across my lips when he grabs it. When he turns around, and his eyes meet mine, I realize I made the right choice. Brass is ruthless, but Walker is the perfect man for this job. He’s just cold enough to get this job done.
He walks back to my side and asks, “Where should we start?”
I think about his question, remembering all the stories Ronni told me. “I think we should start with his balls. Ronni told me he used to walk in on her all the fucking time when she was in the shower.”
When she was telling me about her childhood, I’m not sure she even picked up on the fascination her stepbrother had with her. If she had been able to see things a little clearer, I’m sure she would have realized that this fucker wanted more than to aggravate her. I have a clear picture, though. No doubt in my mind, the pervert wanted to fuck her, even when she was too young to know what the word sex meant.
“Sounds good to me,” Walker says, firing up the blowtorch. “I’ve never branded anyone’s balls before. Should be fun.”
Miles starts thrashing around, trying to talk through his gag. I watch him for a minute, enjoying his struggle. I can imagine how scared Ronni was each and every time this asshole tormented her, and I love that he’s getting a little payback. I let it go on for a minute or two before bending down and pulling the gag from his mouth.
“You got something to say, little man?” I ask, hoping he will wait a little longer before breaking. “Are you gonna be a little bitch and crack before we even cause you any real pain? Are you not even a real man?”
“I’ll tell you anything you want to know.” He looks up at me, his pupils so large I can’t even determine the color of his eyes.
Squatting, I lower my head to only a few inches above his. “My woman dealt with your shit for years, and she was just a kid. Here you are, a grown man, and you’re gonna break after just a few hours of dealing with the same shit.”
As much as I want the information he has to give, I want this to last a little longer. I need to cause him a little pain. Fuck, he deserves a hell of a lot of pain. I want to give him a taste of what he and the rest of those fuckers put Ronni through. If he breaks now, I’ll never even get to give him a taste of what she dealt with.
“I’ll tell you whatever you want. I’ll tell you everything, just don’t hurt me anymore,” he pleads, tears pouring down his cheeks.
Disgusted, I stand and shake my head. “Are you really such a pussy that you’d spill everything? Most fuckers at least hold firm until after the blow torch. Walker hasn’t even touched you with the torch, and you’re already ready to spill.”
“What the fuck are you doing, brother?” Walker asks in a hushed voice, looking back and forth between Miles and me. “I thought we wanted to know what he had planned. If he’s willing to give the answers, I think we should listen.”
Fuck, he’s right. I need to get a handle on my temper. The only way to keep Ronni safe is to know what this fucker has set in place. Without that information, we’re going into this fight blind. Knowing that doesn’t help me control my anger, though. Right now, all I can feel is the urge to kill this motherfucker. My brain just can’t focus on the end game.
“I’m gonna head home,” I say, knowing I’m not going to be any help to Walker. “I’ll send Brass to help you out.”
Not giving him time to respond, I hit the stairs and head out. My mind is not in the right place for this shit. My heart is set on getting revenge for the years of shit Ronni lived through instead of getting the answers we need.
Walker follows me, stopping me just before I reach the top of the stairs. “Are you okay, brother?”
“No.” I look back at him and shake my head. “That bastard helped his father and Ronni’s mom make her feel like shit every day of her life. All I want to do is take his ass out. If I stay in there, that’s exactly what I’m gonna do.”
He is silent for a second before saying, “Give me a few minutes to get the information I need. Then, I can give you a few minutes alone with him. If he’s gone when I get back, we can always say his heart gave out.”
I smile, knowing my brother is trying to give me what he can. “You do what you’ve gotta do. I’ll get my revenge later.”
“You sure?” he asks, more than willing to let me take the fucker out.
I think for a second, fighting the urge to walk back in there and put a bullet in the asshole’s head. “Yeah, I’ll wait for Tito. As much as I want to take him out, Tito deserves the opportunity to do it himself.”
With that, I walk away, heading for my bike. One thing is on my mind: getting back to my woman so I can hold her in my arms.
Chapter Eighteen
Van
My bike comes to a stop in front of the house, and I can still feel anger boiling inside me. I have never punked out before, not one fucking time.
That’s exactly what I did tonight. I couldn’t hold my shit together long enough to do what was needed. I don’t know what the hell is happening to me, and I have no idea how the fuck I’m gonna face my brothers tomorrow. They’re going to think their VP has turned into a pussy-whipped coward. At this point, I’d probably agree with them.
Getting off my bike, I stomp up to the front door, put my key in the lock, and sling the door open. In my anger, I send the door crashing into the wall so damn hard that the doorknob crashes through the sheetrock. I wince, knowing I’ll have to fix that shit in the morning. A growl comes from my left, and I turn my head just in time to see Denver and Brass rushing out of the living room.
Brass has his piece held in his hand, pointing it directly at me. When our eyes meet, he growls low in his throat and mumbles, “fuck,” before putting his gun back in his waistband. As soon as Denver sees that it’s me, he turns and goes back into the other room.
“What the fuck, brother?” he says, running a shaking hand through his hair. “You’re lucky I didn’t put a bullet between your fucking eyes.”
Fuck, he’s right. I knew he was in here, knew he was guarding Ronni. Knowing my brother the way I do, I also knew he was armed and more than willing to pull the trigger. I should have called out the all clear as soon as I walked in the door. This is just another thing that shows I don’t have my shit together.
“Sorry, brother,” I mumble, walking past him and heading straight to the kitchen. “I’ve got a lot of shit on my mind and wasn’t thinking straight.”
Pulling a bottle of eighteen-year-old Jameson from the top of the fridge, I walk over to the cabinet and pull out a glass. After filling it up, I swallow back the liquid gold and plop down in one of the kitchen chairs. I pour more into the glass and drain it as quickly as possible then fill it up again. I down that one before looking back at Brass.
He crosses his arms and asks, “You want to tell me what’s up your ass?”
“I need you to go down and help Walker get some answers from Miles,” I order, not willing to answer his question.
He gives me a look filled with confusion before asking, “Why aren’t you the one getting answers?”
That’s two in a row. As his VP, it isn’t his place to ask me questions. As my friend, I understand why he wants to know. Only for that reason will I let this shit slide. I wanted to talk to Miles, made sure everyone knew I was going to be getting the information we needed from him. Changing my mind now will leave everyone with questions that I’ll have to answer.
“It’s been a long fucking night, brother,” I growl, not quite willing to answer his question just yet.
Cocking a brow, he asks, “You gonna tell me about it?”
I look up at him for just a second before turning back to the bottle. I pour myself another glass of Jameson and suck the fiery liquid down my throat, hoping it will burn the feeling of disgust from my body. Of course, it doesn’t help.
“I couldn’t do it, couldn’t listen to his voice without snapping his fucking neck. Every damn time I looked at him, all I could think about was the bastard trying to kill my woman,” I say, feeling my anger ratchet up to pure fury.
“Fuck, brother,” Brass mumbles, leaning against the door jam.
“She doesn’t talk about her past a lot, barely even mentions it at all. When she does let something slip, I can read the pain in her eyes,” I tell him, thinking of her deep brown eyes. “Having a mother like mine, my childhood was pretty fucked up, but it didn’t hold a candle to the shit Ronni had to put up with.”
I think back on everything she has said and everything that Tito has told me over the years. Frustration fills me, knowing there isn’t a fucking thing I can do to change any of that shit now. I could have made the fucker pay, could have made him feel a little pain. Instead, I lost control and had to walk away.
“What kind of man does that make me, Brass? What kind of man can’t keep his shit together to get a job done?”
He cocks his brow when I call Ronni my woman, but he doesn’t mention it. “The kind of man that is smart enough to see his own weakness and do what he needs to do to fix the situation. I think that’s the best kind of man I know.”
I never thought of it like that; he might be right. We all have a weakness, and mine is definitely anger. Knowing when I’m about to let loose, and being willing to walk away, is a fuck of a lot better than just exploding and fucking up everything.
Giving him a shrug, I say, “Well, go take care of what I couldn’t. Find out whatever information you can. Pussy fucker was about ready to squeal like a pig when Walker brought out the blowtorch, so it shouldn’t take much. I’d be lying if I said it would hurt my feelings if he ended up with at least one of our brands. Maybe you could leave him with a few more bruises before Tito gets his hands on him.”
“You can consider it done, brother,” Brass says, giving me a chin lift then turning and walking away.
After he walks out the door, I look around the kitchen. Just a couple of weeks ago, this room was bare of anything but the necessities. Now, the counters are covered with one kitchen gadget after another. Spices line the back of the stove, and a bottle of bright oil with peppers floating in it sits near the microwave. Ronni has turned the room into a chef’s kitchen, her kitchen, and that brings a smile to my face.
Standing up, I put away the bottle and lock up the house then head upstairs. Not wanting to wake up Ronni, I climb into the shower in the hall bathroom and quickly clean the road dust from my body. Once I’m done and dried off, I wrap my towel around me and head to my bedroom.
I’m more than ready to crawl into bed with Ronni. After being so near the bastard that wanted her dead, I need to have her in my arms. I want to reassure myself that she’s alive, safe, and breathing. Maybe, when I am sure of her safety, I will be able to get rid of the anger that is weighing me down.
When I get into the bedroom, I walk the familiar steps to my dresser in the dark, not wanting to bother with turning on the light. I grab a pair of boxers out of the top drawer and slide them up my legs before walking over to the bed and pulling the blankets back. Only when I lay down do I realize Ronni isn’t lying beside me. My temper flares once again, not believing this shit, and I jump out of bed.
There is no doubt in my mind that she’s in the other bedroom, the one she had been sleeping in before we went to Tennessee. My only question is why? Is she trying to draw a line in the sand, trying to tell me she doesn’t want more? Did we not already cross that line? I thought I made it clear that I wanted more. I shake those thoughts away, knowing it doesn’t matter. She may not want this shit with me, but she’s going to get it anyway.
Storming out of my bedroom, I stomp down the hall and open her door. As soon as I step inside, I see Ronni asleep on the bed, the moonlight illuminating her beautiful face.
Chapter Nineteen
Veronica
I’m pulled awake when strong arms wrap around me and drag me from my warm bed. I blink in confusion, trying to figure out what in the hell is going on. Finally, I’m able to focus on Van’s face. He isn’t looking at me. Instead, he is staring straight ahead as he carries me out of my room. A few seconds later, we are in his room, and he is placing me on his bed.
“What’s going on?” I ask in a sleep-roughened voice.
He crawls into the bed and pulls me against his side. “Don’t try that shit again. You sleep in here with me always.”
It takes a minute for his words to make their way through my tired mind. When they do, I pick each one apart, trying to figure out exactly what he means. Does he mean now, until Dad gets out of jail, or does he mean forever? I have to admit, I want forever.
“What are you talking about?” I ask, still feeling confused.
“You belong in my bed, not in the other room,” he states, running his hand through my hair. “Tomorrow, I want you to move your stuff in here.”
We have spent the last few nights shar
ing a bed, but that was different. We were at the clubhouse and then with the Grim Bastards. We’re home now, a home he shares with his daughter. She may not be here now, but she will be back soon. I just assumed he would want me back in my bedroom so Cline wouldn’t ask any questions.
“What about when Cline gets home?” I ask, wondering if I will have to move back to the other room.
His body goes taut for a moment before he relaxes and says, “I’ll talk to her, let her know things have changed. She won’t be upset.”
I’ve dated more than my fair share of guys, but none have ever made me want more than a little fun. I always knew I would settle down someday, get married and start a family, but I never met anyone that I wanted those things with. With Van, I want everything. I want him and Cline and all they are willing to give me.
Unable to hold back my question, I ask, “What are we doing here, Van? Is this just temporary, something to help pass the time ‘til Dad comes home, or are we starting something that could last?”
“I’m not sure,” he answers, causing my heart to crumble. “Fuck, I don’t know what the hell I’m doing anymore.”
I pull away, knowing I need to put some distance between us before I’m left with a broken heart. My body moves no more than an inch when he rolls over and grabs me. Before I can even blink, he is on top of me, looking into my eyes.
“I don’t know what’s gonna happen, but I want to find out,” he says, his voice sounding hard and determined. “No one can guarantee the future, Ronni, but right now, ours is looking pretty fucking bright.”
“What about my dad?” I ask, regretting the question instantly.
He leans forward and places his forehead against mine. “It might take him a while, but he’ll see the light.”
