Chapter 18
Eighteen
Brick
Ever since Daly was able to get away from the rail yard after murdering Wendy, I've been on the hunt for him. I let Dutch know what happened, and he swore to me that the second he got his hands on him, I'd be one of his first calls. I wasn't sure that I could believe him. In the past, the relationship between the BCMC and the Seven-Oh-Sevens has been shaky at best.
I'm not sure if it's because Dutch feels like he owes me, but he's true to his word. The second I got the text message that Daly was on his way to Dutch, I knew I had to move fast. There was no way I was going to let this motherfucker get away from me again.
At first, I wanted to go alone, but even in my intense anger, I knew that wasn't the best move. I promised Luna I'd come back to her alive. I intend to make good on that promise.
I stand in front of the Seven-Oh-Seven's apartment complex, taking in the sight of the crumbling building. It’s a shell of its former self, paint peeling off the walls, windows boarded up, and a sense of decay hanging in the air. The stench of mildew and something far worse clings to the atmosphere, mingling with the faint odor of rotting garbage piled in the alley. I can see vermin scurrying around the trash, rats darting in and out of the shadows, as if they own the place.
I feel Torch and Hook flanking me, their presence solid and reassuring, but my focus is laser-sharp. I didn’t want the whole club here; I didn’t want Dutch to think this was an attack. No, this is personal. This is about retribution. My fists clench at my sides as the rage boils just beneath the surface.
Every instinct tells me to storm in, to find Daly and make him pay for what he’s done. I can almost taste the violence, the sweet release of finally getting my hands on him. I want to feel the thrill of confrontation, the satisfaction of revenge. The thoughts swirl in my head, and I force myself to breathe, to remain calm. For now.
“Let’s move,” I say, my voice low and steady, cutting through the thick tension in the air. I step forward, my boots crunching on the debris littering the ground. The door hangs crookedly on its hinges, a gaping mouth inviting us into the belly of the beast.
As I push through, the darkness inside swallows us. The hallway is dimly lit, flickering lights casting shadows that dance on the walls. The air is heavy, thick with the scent of neglect and despair. I can hear the distant sounds of shouting and laughter echoing from somewhere deep within the building, a reminder that life goes on in this hellhole.
Torch and Hook follow closely, their eyes scanning the surroundings, ready for anything. I can feel the adrenaline coursing through my veins, but I keep my emotions in check. I can’t let anger cloud my judgment, not now. I need to be precise, calculated.
I move through the hallway, the floor creaking beneath us, as if the building itself is warning us to turn back. But there’s no turning back for me. I won’t rest until Daly is nothing more than a memory, a ghost that haunts this place.
Every step takes me closer to my target, and my heart pounds in my chest. I can almost see it, the moment I finally confront him. I want to hear him beg, to watch the fear seep into his eyes as he realizes what he’s done.
“Brick,” Hook’s voice breaks through my thoughts. “You ready?”
I nod, my jaw set tight. “Let’s find him.”
We push deeper into the darkness, the stench getting stronger, the sounds growing more chaotic. I can feel the weight of the world pressing down on me, the anger surging like a tidal wave, ready to crash and destroy everything in its path. I won’t stop until I have my hands around Daly’s throat, until I can make him feel the pain he’s caused.
This is it. The moment I’ve been waiting for. And I’m ready to unleash hell.
Slowly, I push the door open to one of the apartments, and it's almost like a fucking party in there. People are getting high and drinking. Dutch is seated carelessly on a large dark sofa with a bottle of beer in his hand.
"Brick, my main man, I didn't think you'd show up."
I don't address him right away; instead, I continue to scan the room for any threats. On the ground is a pile of bodies, at least four deep. All of them in the typical Seven-Oh-Seven colors. All of them dead.
I guess these are the few street soldiers Daly was so sure would help him overthrow Dutch. It seems like he was wrong.
Dutch notices me looking at his handiwork and stands up from where he's seated to come over to where I am. "Oh come on, you didn't really think I was going to let those bastards get away with trying to take me out, do you? I even put in an order that anyone trying to fuck with you or yours would meet the same fate. I think we're all straight now." Dutch raises an eyebrow at me.
Does he think I'm supposed to be impressed by his little showing? I don't care about him or his little gang. All I care about is if Daly is in that pile of bodies. To my immense relief, I don't see him there.
"Where is he?"
"Who, Daly?" Dutch questions.
"No, dumbass, Waldo," Hook bites out in aggravation. The three of us are on edge and don't share in Dutch's calmness. He may have been able to clean up his ranks, but the Brutal Chains still have business to attend to.
"I figured you might want to have a word with him. He's chained up in the back." Dutch points down the hallway. It's dark and could possibly be a trap, but right now I don't care.
"Unchain him," I say to Dutch.
"For fucking what? I'm not about to let that asshole go."
"He's not walking out of here. I just want to make him think he has a shot. It's no fun beating up a man that can't swing back." I look forward to the door, waiting for Dutch to do as I ask.
He sighs and snaps his fingers to have one of his guys rush in the back and do as I ask.
"Mask up," I whisper to both Hook and Torch. They’ve got a lot of issues with people taking videos of shit, and the last thing we need right now is for someone to capture what I'm about to do to that man on tape. It's a simple precaution, but possibly one that could keep us out of jail.
The three of us are dressed head to toe in black and have left our vests back at the clubhouse. We don't want anyone outside of this room being able to identify us if something should happen.
As we make our way to the door, I look behind and notice that Dutch is following.
"I'm just here to observe. I can't let that bastard get free." All the humor is gone from Dutch's face; I know that he means business.
It's for the best anyway; I'm going to need him to take the final blow. I want to watch the fear in Daly's eyes when the lights go out.
The four of us walk into the room. Daly is up out of his seat, looking far too uninjured for my liking. He's pacing back and forth in the small area.
"Brick, I know that's you under there," he speaks, but I can hear the uneasiness in his voice. He's trapped in here. The windows are barred, and there's no other door besides the one we just came in from.
"I'm glad you know it's me so you know what this is for."
"Look, man, it was just business. That bitch had no right stealing from me. What would you have me do? I had to think of my reputation. If I let one hoe swipe some shit from me, it won't be long until everyone thinks they can do it."
He quickly tries to rationalize what he's done, trying to smooth over the fact that he took a woman from this world too soon.
"Well, it's lucky for you, you won't have to worry about that for much longer, now will you?" I take a step forward. "And her name was Wendy."
I want Wendy's name to echo in his mind when the pain starts.
"You're not built for this. I know you and your club. You're do-gooders. You’re trying to stay out of jail. You're not the bad-boy type."
"You're right. I've spent a long time trying to stay on the right side of the law." I pull my hands out of my pockets to show the thick brass knuckles that line my hands. I shift my fingers, getting them used to the weight. "Let's hope for your sake I'm not too rusty."
All thoughts of taking it slow fly out of my head in the same instant I rush him. I swing with all my might into his gut and his face. I catch him twice, and Daly stumbles back, blood dripping from his mouth. He doesn't go down though, thankfully. I want him to fight back.
He does exactly what I wish and takes a wayward swing at me. I quickly dodge the blow and come up with a brutal uppercut right under his chin. The hit is so hard pieces of his teeth crack off, and he spits them out of his mouth. I don't give him time to adjust. I swing my fists over and over until he's crumpled down on the floor, moaning and bleeding from various places on his body. I grab hold of his head and tilt it back. "What's her fucking name?" I question. When he doesn't answer right away, I swing my fist into his face again, his already broken nose crunching more.
"We... Wendy," he slurs out.
"Boys, why don't you come and give me a hand?" I stand over Daly while Hook and Torch come up beside us.
In a typical prison yard fashion, we begin whooping Daly's ass. Torch and I use our boots to stomp him while Hook pulls out a long piece of tow chain and starts to beat him with that like a whip.
By the time we're finished, I'm sweating and breathing hard, but I'm smiling through the mask. My cheeks hurt; this felt so good.
Daly isn't dead, but he's barely breathing.
"Enough." I raise my hand and both Hook and Torch back away.
If I had to say so myself, they look a little disappointed they aren't able to finish the job.
As my boys move back, Dutch takes a step forward, a Glock in his hand.
“Can I have the honor?”
I nod. “In the head. Let us be the last thing he sees.”
“With pleasure.” Dutch moves to the side of the shallow-breathing Daly, angles the weapon at the side of his head, and pulls the trigger.
I keep my gaze locked on Daly, my cold eyes boring into his soul as it leaves his body.
Now it’s over.
Finally.
It may not bring back what we lost, but taking this revenge was the first step in healing.
Now it’s time for me to get back home. Back to Luna.