by K. Webster
“Take off your clothes,” Night Giant orders. “Now, boy.”
Cove stumbles over his feet as he backs away, whimpering and finally finding his voice. “No. I don’t want to do this.” So broken and small and innocent.
“If you don’t do it, Caught will help you,” Night Giant says with a cruel laugh. When Cove disobeys, Night Giant whistles at Dragon. “Here.” He shoves a small pocketknife through the chain length fence. “Help the boy, boy.”
Dragon’s green eyes blaze at the sight of the knife. He snatches it from Night Giant’s meaty hand and whirls around, his shoulders tense and poised as he readies to attack my brother. I can’t watch this, yet I can’t look away.
Dragon pounces toward Cove, but my brother is quick, sidestepping him. Not quick enough, though, because Dragon tackles him to the bed. Cove’s scream makes my bones rattle. Ruthlessly, Dragon tears through his shirt with the pocketknife.
Oh God.
I turn, kneeing the big guy holding my hair in the balls, and take off in a sprint to the cage door. Grabbing hold, I lean forward and yell at Dragon.
“Don’t touch my brother, you motherfucker!”
Someone swoops an arm around my waist to pull me away, but I cling to the cage, screaming like a wild banshee. Dragon, like a cat with a mouse pinned beneath his paws, turns his head to see what the commotion is about. We lock eyes and I shoot him a venomous glare.
“Dragon, let him go! Don’t do to him what that bastard did to you!” I shriek. “You’re better than that!”
Dragon’s jaw clenches, but he doesn’t move.
“You’re not in charge, bitch,” the voice behind me snarls.
“Let me in there instead,” I demand, fighting against the guy behind me, my eyes slicing over to Night Giant. “You want Dragon to fuck someone, then send me in. Not my brother.”
Night Giant’s phone rings and he ignores us to take the call. He grunts out a few words and then ends it before walking my way.
“Looks like you got your wish, blondie. The paying customers want to see those fat titties. The junkies didn’t put up enough fight, but you, my dear,” Night Giant croons, petting my hair like I’m a damn cat, “look like quite the fighter.”
He unlocks the cage and the man behind me wrangles me inside. Cove runs over to me, hugging me tight. It’s the first real reaction from my little brother since I’ve been locked here with him. I might die in a few minutes by someone I know, but if that buys my brother another chance to live, it was worth it.
“Time to go, little one,” Night Giant orders. “Let your sister take your punishment since she’s so willing.”
Cove sobs against my neck, whispering out apologies. I choke down cries of my own as I kiss the side of his head.
“It’s okay,” I murmur. “Keep Calla safe.”
He nods and then he’s gone, leaving me alone with the fire breathing dragon.
I don’t waste time facing off with Dragon. I’m not about to have my back turned on him. He’s unpredictable when he’s being cool and funny back home. Now, he’s like a monster straight from a nightmare.
His chest is bare, as are his feet, but he still wears his jeans. The tattoo on his neck is covered with blood, which makes it seem all the more terrifying as he slowly stalks me in the cage. Green eyes are alight with madness, focused on me.
“Dragon,” I whisper. “It’s me. Stormy. We have to get out of here. Don’t let that asshole win. Please.”
His jaw ticks and his nostrils flare.
“Please,” I say again, but I’m cut off when he lunges at me.
Remembering my training, I use his momentum against him, ducking at the last minute to send him sailing past me and crashing against the cage. He bellows, furious and manic, as I rush to put distance between us. He flips his knife around in his hand, all too familiar with the weapon. I’m pissed I’m at such a disadvantage.
Realization dawns on me as I manage to thwart another attack. I’m going to die in here. My sweet little unborn baby and I will be gutted by Dragon—a mentally fucked creation of these monsters. I’ll never see Copper again. We’ll never have that happily ever after I so stupidly dreamed about.
Tears threaten, blurring the world in front of me, which is a horrible mistake. It hides Dragon long enough that he’s able to shove me to the mattress. A scream lurches from my throat as he tears the blade along the fabric of my hoodie. His strength overpowers mine as he removes the material and cuts through my bra. My heart is in my throat as I claw at the soiled mattress, trying to escape. Dragon grabs my hips, flipping me to my back. His free hand easily fumbles at the button and zipper of my jeans. I howl and squirm to no avail.
“I’m pregnant with Copper’s baby,” I whimper. “Dragon. Help me.”
His bright green eyes narrow and then his sticky, bloody chest presses against mine while one hand grips my throat tight enough my screams are strangled. Hot breath finds my ear.
“I have to do this or they’ll kill us both. Scream and fight me. It’s going to hurt, but you have to trust me.” He sits up enough to stare down at me and says loud enough for Night Giant to hear, “Pretty girls get to be stars.”
The knife cuts down my cheek, splitting the flesh painfully. All I can do is gape at him in horror, trying like hell to make sense of his words. Remorse flashes in his green orbs, and I realize what this is.
An act.
He knows how to get us out of this.
I just have to play along.
Trust him, no matter how much it hurts.
“Do it,” I croak out. “Do what you have to do to get us out of here alive and then we’ll make these motherfuckers pay.”
Madness shines in his gaze, but it’s a familiar one. One I remember from nights around the campfire at the Q at Koyn’s. Despite his crazy, he thinks of the Royal Bastards as family. And me. We’re in this together.
Filter was right.
I’ll use sex to my advantage to save my neck. It’s clear Dragon will do the same. We’re both warriors and we’ll get the fuck out of this place.
Dragon lets go of my throat and I claw at his pretty face, drawing blood on his cheek. He grins in a violently terrifying way, so I do the other side too. While I’m distracted marring his runway perfect face, he yanks my jeans down my thighs. He shoves me onto my stomach. Then, with no warning, he’s inside me. I cry as he does what he needs to do, taking comfort in the soft, pleading words he whispers to me.
We’re going to get free.
We’re going back to our family.
We’ll kill them all.
This goes on long enough that my ears ring from my exaggerated screams and that I black out from exertion. A groan rouses me and then hot, sticky semen splatters on my ass. I lie limp as Dragon jerks away from me and rolls onto his back next to me.
“Brav-fucking-o,” Night Giant says, clapping. “The viewers loved that shit.”
Night Giant walks into the cage and toes me with his boot. Once he realizes I’m still alive and breathing, he grabs me by my shoulders and hauls me to my feet.
“Put your clothes back on,” he barks out. “I have a meeting with the bosses. You all get a break until you’re needed again.”
Shakily, I pull my jeans back up and snatch up the remains of my hoodie, tying the bottom of it so it keeps me covered. It’s not until I’m hugging my middle, trying to process the fact that I’m still alive, when I feel something digging into my upper thigh. Discreetly, I slip my finger in my pocket to realize Dragon left me a gift.
The pocketknife.
It’s small, but it’s a weapon.
Dragon was right…
We’re going to get free.
We’re going back to our family.
We’ll kill them all.
Copper
I’m combing through land records for buildings purchased in Memphis and compiling a list when my phone rings.
Dan.
“You got anything?” I ask in greeting.
Koyn, who’s sitting across the conference room table from me, lifts an eyebrow as he listens in on my end of the conversation. I put it on speaker and set it down.
“Yeah…” Dan says, letting out a harsh breath. “It’s brutal, man.”
Koyn’s features harden and my stomach roils with dread.
“What is it?” I demand. “Don’t beat around the bush. Out with it.”
My phone buzzes.
“I’ve sent it to you. It’s a video. Taylor was also searching the dark web, trying to get into that site you shared with me. He couldn’t get in, but found this video called Caught vs Blondie. Dragon tattoo was the hit keywords that he found it with.” Dan groans. “I’m pretty sure it’s your biker buddy and…”
“And who?” Koyn barks out.
I already know.
Stormy.
“We’re doing what we can to find the source, but have your people on it too. The more eyes, the better,” Dan says. “And, Jeremy, I’m sorry.”
With those horrible words, he hangs up.
Koyn rises to his feet to come around to my side of the table as I hit play on the video. I’m unable to focus on anything helpful. All I see is Stormy. My fucking girl. Terrified and shaking.
And Dragon.
He chases her down like she’s prey.
“Maybe you shouldn’t watch this,” Koyn mutters weakly, knowing full and damn well he’ll have to cut my eyeballs out before I allow that to happen.
The next several moments have me frozen in my chair with a storming mixture of fury and disgust. Dragon attacks her. Cuts her. Fucks her. And…
“Is she dead?” I choke out when the video ends after Dragon slides off her unmoving body.
“No,” Koyn barks out as though by him saying it, it’ll make it true.
I swipe at the wetness on my cheeks and rise to my feet. Anger is clouding my brain. All I can see is red. Revenge. I will hurt him like he fucking hurt me. I’m fueled by rage as I charge out of the room on a hunt for Katana.
Dragon wants to take from me?
I will take from him.
All I can think about is unloading a magazine full of bullets into Katana’s healing body, this time hitting all the crucial organs. I’ll watch him bleed out at my feet, knowing Dragon will never be able to come back to his best friend like I’ll never be allowed to come back to mine.
Filter, who’s sitting in a chair and keeping watch over Katana, jumps to his feet when he sees me. I’ve already pulled out my Glock, aiming it at the sleeping man. Filter launches at me, shoving me against the wall hard enough we crush the drywall. The gun goes off, hitting the wall above Katana. I grunt and snarl as I try to free myself from Filter’s strong grip so I can kill this motherfucker. I’ll kill Filter next because he has it coming. I manage to discharge another unsuccessful shot before more guys enter the fray. Payne and Koyn yank me back as Filter manages to wrench the gun from my hands.
Undeterred, I scream and twist, trying to free myself. I manage to headbutt Payne, most likely breaking his nose by the popping sound, before Koyn’s big ass pins me to the carpet. The fight bleeds out of me as grief tears through me.
“She’s dead. He killed her. She’s fucking dead. I promised her,” I choke out. “I promised her I’d keep her safe, but I lied. I fucking lied.”
Koyn pants heavily, keeping my arms pinned with his knees. “I don’t think she’s dead, asshole. He cut her face up a bit, but there wasn’t anything lethal. Bermuda is going to analyze the video. Stop being a fucking psycho.”
She may not be dead, but what Dragon did to her…
How will she ever come back from that?
“Because she’s fucking Stormy. Tough ass bitch,” Koyn barks out, answering what I thought were unspoken words. “The bitch is the gift that keeps on giving. It’s going to take a lot more than Dragon to handle her. She’s like a fuckin’ hurricane. You know this.”
I do know this.
My girl does some crazy ass shit that sometimes gets her hurt, but she always comes back swinging and stronger than before. I have to have faith that she’s okay. That she will be okay. And as far as Dragon goes, I’ll deal with him the moment I lay eyes on him.
Hang in there, little storm.
“Right there,” Bermuda says, pointing to the screen I can no longer look at. “He says something to her. I think he tells her they’ll kill them all. I’m not a lip-reader, but knowing Dragon, it seems like something he would say.”
Koyn nods as he leans forward. “And watch her shoulders there. They go slack.”
“This is your job, Dad,” Blake says, frowning at me. “Put your feelings aside and focus.”
I glance at my son and swallow down the ache in my chest. “Yeah. Play that part again. Let me see.”
Sure enough, it’s like they have a secret, quiet conversation. An agreement is made. Consent. Stormy has used sex to her advantage many times before. This is no different. They seem to be putting on a show. It’s just so fucking brutal, it hurts me to watch. And, Koyn’s right. There was no deadly cut with the knife. Just superficial ones.
I have to believe she’s still alive.
“What’s with the facial cutting?” Gibson asks. “It’s weird as fuck.”
Scrubbing my palm over my face, I let my brain do some logical thinking and answer with that part of my body rather than my heart. “They’re putting on a production. It’s planned. And if Dragon and Stormy are known for anything, it’s their beauty. It’s like they each tried to lessen that part about each other. The way she clawed him will scar. All the blood makes it look worse than it is.”
“Pretty, pretty boy,” Katana says from the doorway, earning everyone’s attention. He’s pale as fuck and I immediately feel bad for trying to kill him earlier.
“What?” Koyn barks out.
“That’s what Dragon muttered in his sleep for so long. One day, I asked him what it meant. On one of his rare, secret divulging moments, he explained that Night Giant said he was a pretty, pretty boy. That he was a star because he was so pretty.” Katana groans and Halo rushes over to assist him into a chair. “He cut her so she wouldn’t be pretty. In some fucked up way, he was trying to keep her out of more videos.”
My gut twists painfully.
Koyn stiffens and begins tapping away on his computer. I’ve seen the look on his face before. Determination. Understanding. The moment when a key appears inside his head and he uses it to unlock whatever damn door he wants.
Hope swells inside me.
“What is it?” I blurt out. “You’re onto something.”
“Pretty, pretty boy Caught,” Koyn grunts out. “That’s the code to enter their site. Now that I’m in, I can start scouring the videos. I’ll look for anything of use.”
While Koyn watches videos I would rather not, I go back to my land records searching. I come across an entity called Press House who bought a warehouse in Memphis nearly twelve years ago. It sold a few years later for a steal.
“Bermuda,” I grunt, motioning him over. “Find where this money went.”
Bermuda grabs his laptop and sits down beside me. He scans the information quickly before tapping away on his computer. He finds a copy of the cashier’s check to the entity’s bank and then pulls up the information from the now closed account.
Colin Press.
The name is too similar to Cypress Collins to ignore.
I know we’ve struck gold.
“Colin Press,” I bark at Koyn. “Have someone else watch those videos. Get the info you can on this guy. I think this is his real name. I’m calling Dan.”
Fucking finally.
This feels like progress.
I’m coming, baby. Just hold on.
Turns out, the name was a hit. Dan, who has the resources, put his men on it while we continue to dig on our end. While they search for Colin Press and start tying his involvement with the human trafficking case together, the rest of us are trying to find clues as to where Stormy and Dragon are at.<
br />
“There,” Bizzy says, pointing a meaty finger to Koyn’s screen. “I’ve seen that before.”
I squint at what he’s pointing at. A mural painted on the wall behind the cage. It’s grainy in the shadows, so I’m unsure what he sees.
“What is it?” Koyn demands.
“When I was a kid, I used to go visit my grandparents a lot. We passed a sign that looked just like this.” He grins my way like he’s hit the jackpot. “See, that there is the Pig Trail Scenic Byway.”
The picture is still too messy to make sense of.
“How can you tell?” I ask.
“That red pig there,” Bizzy replies, gesturing to the red blob on the wall. “This green bit here that’s crackled should say, ‘Arkansas.’”
“Arkansas?” Koyn growls. “How can you be for sure?”
Bizzy huffs, his big belly jiggling. “Aux Arcs. Grandpa told this story about how the French explorers named this bend around the river. It was later shortened to Ozarks.”
“So the sign you saw when traveling was a roadside sign?” I ask, rubbing at the tension on the back of my neck. “You didn’t actually see this sign in this building?”
“I saw it from the road, but if they’ve painted it on the wall, it means something to them. It might be close,” Bizzy says with a grin. “Might even be close to the Mulberry Mountain Loop.”
“I’m on it,” Bermuda calls out. “From the large size of that room, it appears to be some sort of events center or community center.”
“Try rest stops too,” Koyn orders. “Local museums and hotels. I’m calling Animal.”
The four-hour drive to Animal’s clubhouse in Little Rock was a painfully slow one. I’d wanted to tear down the Pig Trail Scenic Byway rather than heading to Little Rock, but as much as I wanted to storm in and save the day, I know we’re outnumbered.
Joining forces with the Little Rock Royal Bastards chapter is a necessary one. Those guys have helped us in a bind before and I know Koyn will pay them handsomely for it again this time. Koyn even got a call into the prez of the New Orleans National chapter. They sent Scorn, and a plane full of guns and ammo. Now we have men and weapons. It’s time to strike.
