King's Ransom: South Side Sinners MC

by BT Urruela

  “Like shooting fish in a barrel,” he hissed. There was no kindness in his eyes, no empathy. They were black like his soul, and completely unforgiving.

  “You don’t have to do this,” Annalise whispered softly.

  “Stand up,” he commanded, cocking the pistol.

  “Please.” She tried once again.

  “I said, stand the fuck up.” He was pointing the gun directly at her chest, though his eyes never left hers. Slowly, Annalise rose to her feet and stood before him. She could barely breathe. As much as she wanted to die, she had never imagined it would end like this.

  He motioned the gun toward her midsection, his eyes hungry. “Strip them off.”

  Annalise started shaking her head. He couldn’t be serious. “What?” she asked, desperately hoping he was kidding.

  “Well, goddamn, I didn’t think I was speaking Chinese. I said, ‘Strip them off.’ Your pants. I wanna get a better look at you.” His eyes trailed her legs, and she could see his tongue running across his lips from behind the bandana.

  She swallowed hard. A thousand bad memories burned the back of her eyes. She didn’t care what the debt collector said, this was hell. For a moment, she contemplated letting him shoot her. Her hands trembled as her thumbs slipped under the waistband of her joggers. “Why are you doing this?” She hesitated, staring him in the eyes.

  “I told you, Annalise. I’ve been a big admirer of yours for a long time now. I think we have a lot in common, you and I.” He grinned, a wicked, nerve-rattling grin, and continued, “And I think we could have a lot of fun together too.”

  About as much fun as a root canal with a hacksaw. “Is this how you greet all your friends? Wouldn’t you rather get to know me first? I don’t even know your name.” Just keep him talking.

  He cackled loudly, placing both hands on his gut. “I know everything I need to know about you. I wanna make you my princess. I think I told you that part too. We’re gonna be fast friends. I just know it. Now, strip them off before you make Daddy unhappy.” He rubbed the barrel of the gun against his crotch.

  Please shoot yourself, she begged silently, watching the gun move back and forth, and choked back the fear that gripped her chest. “If you kill me, then you get nothing. Won’t your whole group be pretty pissed?” Annalise tried again desperately to stall, her thumbs still holding on to the waistband. She could see his patience wearing thin.

  His face twisted. “You gotta death wish, princess? It would serve you well to fear my ass.” He huffed turning on his heel as he holstered his weapon. He began to search the large basement, looking for something, “You think you’re so brave? Just you wait.” He searched a closet at the far end of the room, but she couldn’t see much of anything through the shadows.

  Annalise met her face to the bars, trying to get her best look.

  He cursed as he rummaged through a closet and eventually held out a pole … maybe five-foot-long, rusted with age; she cowered back against the cage in a panic at the sight of it.

  She held her breath.

  He quickly shuffled back toward her, the long black rod in his hands, and a darkness shrouding his features.

  Holy Fuck. Annalise tried to back further against the cage, but it wasn’t far enough.

  “Now, you listen to me … I’m in charge right now, and I can do as I please with you. I’m not opposed to causing you some severe pain while you’re here. And there’s nothing saying I have to ever drop you off to begin with. I may just keep you.” He lifted the rod and set it against one of the rungs of the cage, right at chest level. He started moving it in and out slowly, like he was masturbating, and he bit his bottom lip, desire sweeping over him. “Take. It. Off,” he said in a light rasp.

  Annalise stood, feet shoulder-width apart. White-hot anger at her current situation, at her father, at years of the same damn abuse, overrode her fear and before she could stop herself, the words slipped out of her mouth. “Hell, I’ve heard of compensation, but this … this is a whole new level.”

  “If there’s one thing I hate most in this life … it’s a mouthy untrained bitch,” he growled, and then he jabbed the rod in toward her quickly with a frustrated grunt.

  She dodged the first one like a boxer, angering him further, and he jabbed it down toward her again, harder. The rod struck her square in the side, slamming against her ribcage, and dropped her like a stone onto the hard floor. Annalise coughed and sputtered for her breath, grabbing at her side which stung like hell. She desperately tried to suck in air that was just not there. The sharp end of the pry bar left a nasty two-inch gash that seeped blood.

  He grinned, keeping the rod where it was, but stepping into the cage, his body flush with it. “Now you’re ready to play.” He reached his free hand down and unzipped his jeans, his breathing heavy, but he froze abruptly upon hearing a commotion from the stairwell.

  “Fuck!” he yelled as he quickly zipped back up and backed away from the cage, letting the rod fall free and it clattered to the ground loudly. He tilted his head slightly, smiled, and said, “This isn’t the last of it, sweetheart.”

  Annalise was on her knees, bracing herself on one hand, while the other clutched the gash in her side. Teeth clenched, she fought the pain and tried to catch her breath. With everything in her, Annalise gathered the bloody spit in her mouth and let it fly in his direction. “You’ll have to fucking kill me,” she hissed weakly.

  He bent over and picked up the rod, his eyes still on her, and when he stood back straight with it, he muttered, “In due time.”

  Dimitri came racing down the stairs in a panic. Such a panic, having realized Robbie wasn’t in the radio area as he should have been, that he forgot to put his ski mask on. It hadn’t even crossed his mind. He worried only about her, and the peculiar way Robbie had been looking at her since they kidnapped and caged her.

  “What the fuck is going on here, Robbie?” Dimitri asked sharply, before stopping abruptly in his tracks, his eyes on her. “What the—” He turned toward Robbie with a scowl. “What the fuck did you do?”

  Robbie shrugged as he took the pry bar to the closet. An unpleasant scrape as the bar dragged against the concrete floor followed him. “Fuck you, Dimitri, I didn’t do shit. Just came down here and the rod was on the ground by the cage and she was bleeding. Beats me.” He stowed the rod in the closet and shut the door as Dimitri pulled the keys from his pocket. “She was making quite the fuss down here,” Robbie added. “Probably just trying to kill herself again.”

  Unlocking the cage hatch and tossing the padlock to the ground, he swung it open, hesitating, before he walked in slowly with his hands up. “Are you okay?” He eyed her, the blood on her shirt, the panic in her eyes. He motioned toward the quickly building blood stain. “Do you mind if I take a look?”

  Dimitri noticed her eyes were fearful and looking right over his shoulder. He glanced back and saw Robbie lurking, his head tilted. The sick smile remained.

  Annalise was shaking all over by then. The adrenaline of what just happened wearing off and the searing pain in her side overpowering her. She felt like a wild animal, like prey on the verge of capture.

  She couldn’t find the words and just nodded yes. In his arms, she felt safe. But why?

  His hands gripped her shirt, but he glanced his brown eyes back toward the bigger man, the ruthless one. Robbie. The debt collector’s soft eyes turned hard in an instant. “Get the fuck out of here, Robbie. I’m not even close to done with you,” he barked, and the words alone comforted her.

  “I’m not going anywhere,” he responded, crossing his arms petulantly. “I haven’t done anything wrong. And it’s my turn to watch her. You’re not in charge here.”

  “Neither are you.” Dimitri looked back toward Annalise and forced a weak smile. “Just give me a second,” he whispered.

  She analyzed his rough hands still holding her shirt, and then the way he stood tall, blocking the bigger man from her, protecting her in a way. Even though she knew he’d kill h
er just as quickly as the next one … or maybe not.

  He ducked under the hatch as he exited the cage, and he squared up on Robbie, an inch from his face, his features hard. “You listen to me, you sonofabitch …” His voice was controlled, but his tone laid out the gauntlet. “I know what you were up to, and if you think I’m not gonna do something about it, you’re sadly mistaken. Now, get the fuck out of here before I leave you worse than you left her.”

  Robbie’s arms fell to his sides and he took a step in to Dimitri, their chests meeting. “Don’t you fucking wish.” A fat pointer met Dimitri’s pec, jabbing it.

  Suddenly, a man with white hair came barreling down the stairs as quickly as his aging knees allowed, slipping the ski mask over his head at the last moment, and then he surveyed the basement. “Am I interrupting somethin’ here, ladies?”

  “You are, actually,” Dimitri said, still eye to eye with Robbie. “You need get him the fuck out of here right now before I kill him where he stands. I mean it. And get Doc with the med pack, for me.”

  “What the hell’s goin—”

  “Dammit, man. Just fuckin’ do it, all right?” Dimitri shot his eyes back toward the older gentleman at the foot of the stairs.

  “Okay, okay.” The old man motioned toward Robbie. “C’mon, let’s go, huh? You should’ve been watching the new guys to begin with.”

  Robbie stared at Dimitri for a few long seconds before he grinned, blowing him a kiss before he walked slowly toward the stairwell. “I’ll be seeing you around, little boy. I promise you that.”

  The old man with the greying hair nudged Robbie up the stairs and asked, “What the fuck is that supposed to mean, dumbass?”

  As they continued up, Dimitri turned back to the cage, “What did he do to you?” he asked.

  Was it genuine concern she saw in his eyes? Or an act?

  Annalise stared back up at him as he entered the cage. There was something in his voice, his eyes that she trusted. Despite everything that would tell her not to. “He couldn’t get in the cage, so he pulled his gun and told me to strip. When I didn’t, he pulled out the pipe.” She coughed and bright red blood spattered the concrete in front of her. “I don’t know. I … I decided to take my chances with the pipe.”

  He shook his head in disgust. “I swear, that is not who we are as an organization. I hate that motherfucker. Always have.” He motioned toward the cot in her cage. “Can you lie down for me? We should get pressure on that before my guy gets here.”

  “I think I can.” Annalise struggled to her feet with Dimitri’s help. Every movement, every breath sent sharp pain through her chest. She eased onto the cot and gingerly laid back. “I think my rib might be broken. I had a fall once dancing that …” She coughed again and wiped the blood from her lips. “It was kinda like this.”

  He grabbed the robe she was wearing when they brought her in, and he bunched it up atop the bloody spot on her shirt. He applied slight pressure and asked, “Is that too much?”

  “It’s fine,” Annalise choked out, even though the pressure felt like knives. She knew he was doing his best to help. “Thank you for helping me.”

  “No problem. Unfortunately, if it’s broken, my guy won’t be able to do much. He’s no surgeon. But if it’s not affecting your breathing … is it affecting your breathing?” He looked troubled.

  She wondered if they would take her to a hospital if her lung was punctured or just let her die there in the basement. “It hurts. But I can breathe,” Annalise offered. She took a steadying breath. You are alive. You can breathe. Pain is just a sensation. She closed her eyes and tried to channel the pain as she had always done when dancing, forced her breathing to relax, her heart rate to slow.

  “Okay, good. He’ll get you cleaned up and stitched real good. Probably have some antibiotics and pain meds for you too. He’s military trained and one of the best, I promise. As for that other guy, have no doubt, something will be done about him. That is completely out of line and not at all what we represent. Regardless of what taking you to begin with and keeping you in a place like this says about us.” He glanced around the small cage.

  “I don’t think he cares what you’re about. He’s fucking evil,” Annalise muttered quietly.

  “Oh, he’ll listen. We have a way of working things out in this organization,” he responded with an assuring smile as a thick framed redhead with a cut off tee came into the cage with a med kit in his freckled hand. He wore one of those ski masks with the fuzzy ball on top and it brought a pained laugh out of Annalise.

  “Damn,” he muttered, his long, strawberry blond hair peeking out from the eyeholes of his mask.

  “Yeah,” Dimitri responded, nodding his head. He took a step back so the other man could get to work and said, “Hey, Annalise …”

  “Yes?” she asked, her eyes begging him not to leave.

  He looked to her sympathetically, and, with sincerity in his tone, he said, “You’re in very good hands. Doc is an old buddy of mine. I’ll be right back down once I get done dealing with that asshole, and I’ll be within earshot the whole time, all right?”

  Annalise took a shallow painful breath. “Okay,” she answered as bravely as she could muster.

  “Doc, take good care of her, brother, and get her some food or something if she needs it.” He leaned into Doc’s ear and whispered, though she could still hear it, “Just make sure you guys have eyes on her at all times. You got me?”

  “Roger that,” Doc said, looking toward Annalise’s stomach. “You mind if I pull this up, dear, so I can take a look at it?”

  “Okay,” Annalise answered, but she kept her eyes away from the wound.

  Doc lifted her shirt, exposing the jagged wound that oozed bright blood in a steady stream. “Goddamn, he got you good. Fuckin’ prick.”

  “Yeah, he’s about to be dealt with,” Dimitri said angrily, and then his eyes lingered on her for a moment longer, and he added, “I really am sorry about this, Annalise. I mean that.”

  Annalise nodded, tried to smile, and she watched him turn and leave the cage, then disappear across the dark room and up the set of stairs. For some reason, his leaving was as painful as the gash in her side. With the sounds of his boots echoing through the stairwell, she turned her attention to the man she knew as Doc.

  “Annalise. I’m going to do everything I can to patch this up,” Doc began softly as he examined the wound and started to lay out his equipment. “I’m gonna have to clean the wound and stitch you up. Okay? We don’t have any sort of anesthetic, but I have some pain pills you can take. Grab a couple now, and a few more once I’m finished.” He handed her a bottle of water and a packet of thick white pills that he retrieved from his cargo pocket.

  She took them and nodded with appreciation. “Okay, do what you have to. I don’t exactly have a choice,” she answered quietly, doing her best not to talk too much or take in too deep a breath as she popped two pills out of the foiled pack and slipped them in her mouth. She washed them down, and the water in her dry mouth was like a dream. She sucked down the rest of it, squeezing the bottle dry.

  Doc grinned. “I’ll get you some more water when I’m finished. We got some whiskey too, if you’d like,” he said, shrugging. “I don’t imagine this is gonna feel very good.”

  “I don’t guess you’re gonna hit me again, are you?” she asked with a small laugh that caught her with pain as she tried pathetically to lighten the mood.

  “No, but the stitches …” He held up the small needle. “We need to get some alcohol on the wound first too. It’ll be about as pleasant as it sounds.”

  “I’ll be okay.” She could see he was trying his best. “Just do what you have to do.” Annalise closed her eyes as he began to work, flinching as he doused the wound with alcohol, and gritted her teeth as the pain ran through her like electricity. She forced the pain away. She imagined the music, let it take her away from the pain as she had so many times before. Only that time, she was not alone. For the first time i
n the epicenter of the darkness, Dimitri was there. His eyes, his voice, flowed through her with the music in her mind and she let him take her away.

  Fourteen

  As Elliot ‘Doc’ Samson was working on Annalise, Dimitri stormed up the steps from the basement to the main part of the derelict house, where a poker table sat holding a CB radio, a video monitor, several empty coffee cups, and a stack of magazines. Greyson, one of Robbie’s newer recruits, sat at the table, clutching an FHM.

  “Where the fuck is he?” Dimitri yelled, his focus around the house. A few newer members were bullshitting near the stairwell, and a few more were by the kitchen, but there was no sign of Robbie.

  “Who?” Greyson asked, startled, setting his magazine on the table.

  “Robbie. Where is he?”

  “Preach took him out back,” Greyson said, jabbing a thumb toward the door at the back of the house. “HB and Knuckles are with ’em.”

  Dimitri rushed to the back door and swung it open, and then he crashed through the rickety screen door, and scaled the small set of stairs toward the four of them. Knuckles and Preach stood in a semi-circle with Honey Bear and Robbie across from them.

  Robbie had only a moment to glance at him before Dimitri tackled him to the ground. A face-to-face fight might have brought a different outcome, as Robbie was loaded with steroids and twice his size, but Dimitri wouldn’t give him that opportunity. Punishment was due and he would be the one to bring it.

  Dimitri struck Robbie in the face as his arms flailed wildly in defense. Robbie caught Dimitri with a palm, but Dimitri responded with a rigid elbow against Robbie’s chin, and then another slashed his nose. Dimitri punched him then and the large skull rings he wore on three fingers left open gashes and welts on Robbie’s face. His eyes watered from the blows.

  HB went for a wild kick to Dimitri’s head, but Knuckles pulled him back at the last second, Honey Bear’s boot missing by just centimeters. They both went sprawling to the ground on their backs, and Knuckles fought to secure Honey Bear’s arms.