Red Haze
PIERCE
Si’s text wasn’t unexpected. It was on me to be ready at the drop of a hat whenever the club needed my expertise. What I didn’t expect was walking into the warehouse and finding a man duct-taped to a chair, especially in the middle of my workspace.
“Well, well, what do we have here?” I say, my voice echoing off the corrugated steel walls and high, dusty rafters.
Si leans against one of the metal-top tables, his knuckles already stained with blood. Across the room, Vik rummages through my neatly organized tools.
“Do you fucking mind? I have a system.”
“I have a system,” he mocks in a singsong voice, turning toward us with my hacksaw—the one from the third drawer.
“Is there a reason you’re doing this here instead of your room?” I ask Si as I make my way to the center of the warehouse, my boots loud against the concrete floor stained from blood and chemical spills over the years.
The man’s head lolls to the side, blood and spit trailing from his mouth. I can’t tell if he’s still conscious, but I know he’s not dead yet. The air hasn’t turned metallic enough. That smell always creeps in like a warning.
“I figured you’d want in on this one.” Si steps forward and grabs a handful of the man’s hair, wrenching his head up. “This here is the newest PI our dear friend the mayor sicced on Lex.”
Now that his face is upright, I get a clearer look.
One of his eyes is swollen completely shut, a dark, puffed bruise that looks ready to split.
The other eye twitches nervously as it flits between us.
Si’s meticulous when it comes to torture.
His form is calculated and patient. He’s left that eye untouched on purpose.
That eye is meant to watch what’s coming to him.
“I hadn’t noticed anyone new following her.”
“Harlow clocked this one after their lunch the other day. Looped back around and followed him home. I kept eyes on him since, but figured it was time to bring him in and have a little talk.”
My blood turns molten as I picture this bastard sitting in his car, spying on Lexi.
My fist flies without thought, slamming into his gut.
The rush of wind past my ear mixes with the choked groan that tears from his throat.
But it isn’t enough. I pull back, ready to hit again, when Si’s firm hand grips my shoulder.
“Let’s get some information out of him first. Then I’ll let you take over.”
I stretch my knuckles, the skin tight and tingling, and pace between Silas and Vik, only half-listening as the interrogation wears on.
I have to give the bastard credit, he’s made of thick stock. He doesn’t give much up, even as my brothers take turns breaking him down. That is, until Si brings out the pliers and starts removing fingernails, one at a time. His screams bounce around the space but don’t escape the walls.
We spent tens of thousands soundproofing this place.
Insulation, reinforced concrete, and custom paneling.
It doesn’t just keep the sound in, it swallows it.
And being tucked in the center of a forgotten industrial district on the outskirts of town means no one comes around unless they want trouble.
The rare soul who passes by and sees our bikes parked outside has long since learned to keep their heads down and eyes averted.
“I’m going to ask you one last time,” Si says, his voice low and unhinged. “Then my buddy here is going to have free rein with that saw he seems awfully attached to. Why were you tailing Lexi Kane?”
The man isn’t as coherent as he was when I first arrived.
His head sways, jaw slack, mouth thick with blood and fear.
If Fingers had been here, he’d have a vial of something that would keep the bastard talking through the pain.
But Silas has kept tonight’s business off the books.
That’s why we’re here instead of at the clubhouse.
And judging by the look in Vik’s eyes and the grip he has on the saw, things are just getting started.
Vik steps forward, his hulking Viking frame intimidating to anyone with eyes.
The PI, doing his best to keep his manhood in place, shudders when the edge of the saw gets placed on his thigh.
Vik usually isn’t the one involved in this type of business, especially since he’s become President of the club. He either needed a night to get out some pent-up energy, or is here by favor to his enforcer.
I won’t let him steal my satisfaction of removing this scum from the planet. He creeped on my girl, and we still have no idea what exactly the point of his invasion is.
However, when Vik shifts the blade of the saw and the teeth begin to move across the man’s leg, slicing through his blood-soaked jeans, things change.
“Okay, okay. Stop! I’ll tell you.” His voice is a pathetic rasp. Broken. Just as the boys intended.
“Lexi Kane. Why is the mayor so interested in her?”
“I don’t know!” he pleads.
Vik continues his fun with the blade, finally hitting skin. The blood beads to the surface, and I step forward from my spectator’s spot.
Leaning down, I make sure I have his attention before I say, “Tell us everything you do know, right now, and I’ll make him stop before he reaches the bone.”
Panic fills his eyes, as if he hadn’t fathomed the fact that we’d go that far. It makes me curious if he’s the type of PI used to taking photos of cheating spouses and got in over his head with this case.
For a split second, my conscience tries to beat itself into my brain space and make excuses any sane person would listen to. But I’m not rational. Haven’t been for years. Won’t ever be again, especially when it comes to Lexi Kane and her safety.
“I don’t know what he wants with her; he never told me.” He chokes on the words flying from his face. “I just know he wants her for something and needs to know her schedule.”
My blood runs cold, every feeling in my limbs gone. My brain blanks out the room around me, and I see nothing but a hazy red.
I don’t feel my hand reach for the stilled blade against his leg, but I do. The voices shouting orders at me from behind are nothing but a murmured whisper. And within a ten-second blimp, the blade races across his throat, cutting deep enough to separate too many vital things to stop his fate.
Rough hands grip my shoulders, pulling me back as Silas shoves me to the side.
“What the fuck, man?”
I shake off the haze, the red evaporating from my vision, before I turn to Si and say, “I got everything I needed. I’m going after the mayor.”
“Whoa, now,” Vik cuts in, stepping around the gurgling man who hasn’t bled out quite yet.
“You can’t just go taking out the mayor. That’s too much potential backlash on the club.”
“Then take my fucking cut!” I roar. “She’s my everything, Vik. If he gets his hands on her, he’s a dead man anyway. I’m just ensuring she’s not traumatized any more than his fucking son’s already done.”
My chest gallops with the rage consuming my soul. I’ve given my all to this club, and if they can’t back me on this, I’m done. Fuck the mayor and his bullshit, I’ll kidnap Lex and move her so far away that he’ll never have the chance to take her from me.
“He’s right,” Si agrees. “She might not be his Old Lady, but she is family, Vik. It might be too much to go at the mayor head first, but there’s gotta be a way about this.”
Vik’s booted foot goes flying, knocking the now dead body to the ground. The clatter of the metal chair echoes around us. His tan hand contrasts against his white-blond hair as he rakes his fingers back through it.
“We can’t afford another hit to the club like before.” His eyes narrow at Silas.
What happened before left the whole club on edge. Losing brothers like that—losing my best friend—is something we’re still fighting to come back from.
But the mayor’s a politician, not a disgruntled ex-member turned crime lord. The local PD couldn’t do shit to shake her, so he hired out, thinking this fool was a better option. I like our chances.
“Let Si and me handle it. We’ll keep it hush-hush if you want. That way, if shit goes sideways, the guys don’t need to know.”
“I don’t like it, Pierce,” Vik says.
“You don’t gotta like it, man. We just need the green light from our Pres.”
“I’m going to fucking regret this.” He sighs. “Fine, handle it. Keep me in the loop if it gets messy and you need backup.”
“Thanks, Pres,” I say, clapping him on the back.
“Now, clean this shit up.” He waves at the dead body and the blood seeping around our boots. “I got a wife to get home to.”
“Me too,” Si perks up, all smug like he didn’t rope me into this mess.
The two lucky fucks lock up the warehouse on their way out, and I get to work doing what I do best: disposing of our problems. One limb at a time.