30. Mimic
Thirty
Mimic
I make my way up to the house. She needs to be here. If she isn’t, I don’t know what I’m going to do. The other guys may as well find her, but I want to be the one who does. I need to be. I’m hers. I’m her protector, but because I failed at that, I need to be her savior.
“I swear to fuck, if the vans here, but they’re already gone.”
No one’s around, but I whisper it anyway. My fear escaping me.
The simple ranch home has construction debris all over the lawn and the driveway. Judging by the overgrowth and the condition of the material, no one has touched anything out here in a long time. There’s no debris on the front porch or the walkway—like someone’s been caring for the property in some manner. I look around, and the neighbors are close enough to hear someone screaming for help. But from what I can see, no one’s windows are open, so I doubt anyone saw anything.
It’s a perfect hideaway for whatever he has planned.
I’m hyper-aware of everything and keeping my head on a swivel. I’m hoping that I see her right away when I walk through the door. That I can just grab her and leave. But there are questions that need to be answered, and he needs to pay for what he’s done.
I reach the front door, and while it would be simple to walk right in, something doesn’t sit right.
As much as I wish it, he wouldn’t make it so easy to walk in and grab the object of his obsession. Leaving the porch, I make my around the house, trying to look through windows, but every single one is covered in some sort of paper. I’m right back to where I started. How many fucking minutes have I wasted when I could have just opened the goddamn door in the first place?
Reaching for the door, I hear footsteps coming up fast. I reach into my cut for my gun and curse myself for leaving it in the saddle bag of my bike. I was in such a hurry to get here that I didn’t re-holster it. I spin, ready to fight, when I see Prez and Cowboy crouching and making their way to the house. I wave them over to my spot beside the front.
“What have you learned? Is she in there?” Prez’s eyes are dark. The demon I have become acquainted with is trying to break free, but Prez is keeping his head about him.
“All the windows are covered, and it seems the only way in and out is through the front door. Only his van is here. I’m hoping he wasn’t smart enough to have taken her to another location. But the front door just seems too simple. Like it’s a trap.” I look from them to the door again. I know they’ve led their own ops with the MC in their years as president. They should have a better clue on how to deal with this.
“When life hands you lemons,” Prez starts.
“You break down the fucking door,” Cowboy finishes.
Prez and I step aside as Cowboy slowly turns the handle until the distinct click of it unlatching. There wasn’t a typical creak of an older door. It opened smoothly, which only raised more red flags in my head.
We split up once we’re inside. She could be in any one of the rooms. I head down a small hall that opens to a larger room, and there, in the middle of the room, I see her. Blood’s smeared on the floor around her and on her body.
Holy shit.
“Baby,” I whisper. I rush toward her, hoping she’s alive. She’s beaten to hell. He attempted to kill her, and when he didn’t succeed, he thought he’d try again with his hands.
When I look up, bile rises in my throat. Pictures. It isn’t paper. It’s pictures that paint the windows of this room. Hundreds and hundreds of pictures are pasted all over the walls and roof and even scattered on the floor. They all have one thing in common.
Angel.
Pictures of Angel taken candidly over a long period of time.
Anyone photographed with him either had their faces scribbled on with a red X or Duncan’s face pasted over theirs.
There are many of Angel and a woman, but Duncan pasted his face over all of them. There are even more intimate ones, too, where the woman is kissing Angel, but Duncan’s made it seem like he was the one holding him in an embrace. I can tell from the clothes and body it isn’t Rox.
I feel sick.
If he is this obsessed with Angel, why is he going after and trying to kill Rox?
“Oh, Roxie. You ready for more, you fucking bitch?” I hear from the other room. I stand up and turn toward his voice, standing at my full height. My chest is puffed out, and I’m barely containing my rage, but I need him to see me. I need him to see his life is about to end.
Duncan walks into the room but skids to a stop when he sees me. His bulging eyes tell me he wasn’t expecting company.
“You mother fucker,” I grit out, and I’m on him before he can react.
I don’t know why he took her. I don’t know why he did what he did, and I don’t care. He’s a damn dead man, and I can’t wait until he’s no longer breathing.
My punches land, one after another, and I don’t stop. I feel when I break the skin, but I keep going. Blood covers his face, and he isn’t even trying to fight back, and I keep going. I don’t stop until hands grip my cut and pull me off him.
“No. Put me down!”
I kick and swing, hoping to continue to hit Duncan, but I’m dragged backward and out of the house.
“Knock it off, brother. We’ll finish it, but we can’t do it here. Trust me.”
I stop fighting at Goblin’s words. When I nod in response, he lets me go. I’m about to ask about Rox when I see her father bringing her out. I rush to him with my arms out, and he hands her over without a fight. I’m sure I’ll be shocked about this later, but for now, I’m thankful my love is in my arms. I rush her to the SUV Goblin brought and get in the back with her. I’m going to make sure she’s okay, and then I’m going to kill Duncan for what he’s done.
* * *
“Has he said anything?” Prez asks.
“Not yet. He also just fucking woke up because someone,” Omen looks at me, “decided to kill him first.”
“Don’t fucking look at me like that. You would do the same thing if it were Mama Judy.”
“I want to lie and say no, but I’m not going to.”
We all walk into the room, ready to find out what the fuck made Duncan do what he did. Duncan is strapped up, hanging from the ceiling, with his toes barely touching the ground. I smack his face a couple of times as he groans from the pain. Good.
“Start talking, mother fucker.”
The man who looks up doesn’t look anything like Duncan. I’m not saying that because I rearranged his face in an attempt to murder him. It’s like his soul is no longer present, and his eyes show the truth he’s been hiding. If his eyes didn’t give him away, his smile did.
“How long have you been after her?” Prez asks, his voice calm and commanding.
“From the beginning. She was in my way. I wanted to get her to leave, but she wouldn’t. She just sat there and took the shit I gave her. I followed her to scare her. I wanted her fucking gone! Then she came in and paraded Angel around. He’s supposed to be with me! I’m supposed to be at his side. She wouldn’t fucking leave, so I decided to do something about it. But somehow, she escaped the fire. Then, she brought a new man around every day. Like a goddamn whore, yet Angel would still show up and wrap her in his arms. Angel’s mine,” he yells out before turning to face Angel directly. “You’re mine! She posed a bigger problem than an asset. So, she needed to be taken care of. Her usefulness was over the second I got what I needed.” He laughs again but loses air and starts coughing up blood.
Angel walks up and slaps him, which shuts him up for a hot minute. He then walks over to the wall and pushes the button to drop the chain. Duncan has no strength and falls to the ground like a sack of potatoes.
“If you wanted to be with Angel so badly, why haven’t you tried before?” Omen asks him as he lifts him up so Duncan is on his knees.
Duncan smirks, and for the first time tonight, I shiver in response. Something about his look, his demeanor, his…everything has changed. This is nothing like it was when we were speaking of Rox. This is something different. Something worse.
“It’s funny that you don’t think I haven’t. It’s okay, though. I’m sure you’ll figure it out soon enough.”
“What do you mean?” Angel growls out.
“ER visits can be so stressful but so fun.”
I have no clue what he means, but Angel seems to as he punches Duncan in the face. Duncan does nothing but laugh in response, and I know, even more so now, that getting answers out of him isn’t going to be easy.
“Enough! Angel, back the fuck off.” He turns to face Duncan after pulling Angel back, “You’re gonna tell me why you tried to kill my daughter.” Prez barks.
“I already told you,” he spits blood out onto the ground, “she was in my way. The other obstacles were working themselves out. It was her, and then….”
He looks over to Ink, and when Ink realizes Duncan’s eyes are on him, he rears his back. “What the fiddle fudge have I done?”
“I’m going to make sure none of them get between what I want.” Duncan spits.
“Get up,” Angel tells him. Duncan just looks up at him.
“I knew you would see it my way. I knew you would see we are a better team than you and her .” The spite and demonic hate in the simple word ‘her’ has my hackles raised. I look at Angel, curious as to what he’s doing.
Angel, not looking at anyone but the pile of Duncan-shaped shit on the ground, yells, “I said GET UP.” Duncan makes an effort to stand. He takes his time and sways once he reaches full height. Angel reaches behind him and tosses a shovel at him. “Pick it up and walk.”
Willie opens the door to the building we’re in.
I know what’s coming, and I feel an immense amount of evil joy. The pain and fear he knows nothing about. The darkness I possess is ready to come, and watch as he screams for mercy. Mercy that will not come. He put his hands on not only a woman but my woman. She may be the princess of this club, but she’s the queen of my life. If we have anything to say about it, mercy is not in his future. In this life, or the next.
We are in the middle of a small clearing on the back of the club’s land. Surrounded by a dense brush. Angel shoves Duncan to the center of the circle we make. There is still no fear on Duncan’s face, his attention still on Angel.
“She would have ruined you. Her skill was subpar. I tried to show her that she was not made for this work. She was not destined for the greatness being associated with your name and your brand would have brought her.” Duncan starts to take a step toward Angel.
This whole thing had nothing to do with Rox getting stalked. This fucker was obsessed with Angel. He seriously thought that Rox was going to ruin him somehow. I don’t want to make sense of it all. He hurt Rox. It doesn’t matter what the reason is.
“That little skank wasn’t worth your time or your energy. You telling her now was the best thing that could have happened to you. But you kept coming around her, trying to apologize and be in her life again. Why Angel? Why would you want that toxic bitch in your life?”
The more he spoke, the harder it was for me to reign in my temper. I wanted to destroy him. Prez shot me a look from across the circle. I gave him a nod. Duncan was so focused on shit-talking Rox that he didn’t notice me approaching him. One punch and he dropped to the ground, but he was still alive.
“You don’t know anything about her,” I spit at him as I stand over him.
“I know she sounds like a stuck pig when she fakes her orgasms with your limp dick,” Duncan says as he does that maniacal laugh again.
I snap and drop on him, wrapping my hands around his throat. The laughing doesn’t stop no matter how hard I squeeze. But I know it’s affecting him. His hands come up and start scratching at my face, gasping for air I don’t allow. I watch as the light fades out of his eyes slowly, and I relish the pain he’s feeling. I let the rage take over, and I tightened my grip one last time when the death gurgle rose from him, and his hands slowly stopped clawing at me. For the first time in my life, I experience something in slow motion as they fall.
I gasped, not realizing I was so focused on his breath that I forgot to breathe myself. I fall back off his lifeless body as Prez stomps over. He pulls his gun and lets out a few shots. Making sure there was no coming back from whatever hell he’s in.
“Well,” Angel says, tossing his arms to the side. “I thought it was my job to do this?”
“It was mine this time, and you know it.”
Angel rolls his eyes, “I mean, we don’t have many jobs like this here. And the one time I get to take someone out my way, you,” Angel points an accusatory hand at me, “almost beat him to death and then finish the job by strangling him. And you,” his other hand points at Prez, “shoot him—scaring away the clean up source.”
“What do you use to clean up here? Wolves? Bears?” Cowboy asks, walking over to Prez and pulling the gun that’s still shaking in Dizz’s hand away from him.
“There are wild boars that live here. They are just as effective as—” Angel’s cut off by Willie and a squeal of delight.
“You have piggies here?!”
“Well, boars, technically. But yes, pigs.” Angel doesn’t even fight it. “But they aren’t penned or used to human touch. So you can’t play with them like Butcher’s babies.”
“Still,” Willie puts his hands on his cheeks, “piggies!”