Chapter Two
I watch as the blood drips from the wounds on his arms. I’d gently sliced fifteen one-inch cuts along each arm after we strung him up on the cross.
It’s not that kind of cross, we’re not religious men. This was built by our brothers before us in the aid of torture and retribution. To make those who hurt us pay.
And this fucker right here deserves to pay. He helped kidnap and torture my VP’s woman.
She’s still healing from the shit that these guys put her through. This fucker though, he’s just a pawn, there to do the bidding of his brothers. And he’ll pay for doing that bidding.
Sure, I get off on this shit, but I’m really enjoying making this lousy piece of shit pay, and I can’t fucking wait to capture the rest of his MC and get some revenge.
Taking out the Poisoned Devils will always be one of our aims, but our main focus isn’t on hunting those fuckers down—Snake is the fucker we really want.
The pain he’ll endure won’t be at my hand though, that pleasure lies with Wrath.
I’ll never understand why he would turn his back on the brothers he’s called family for the last twenty years. I’ll never understand how he could betray us, betray the club.
Anger ticks away inside of me, and I take a small step forward. I see the loser on the cross visibly shiver. It’s not from the cold though.
That is solid fear.
He knows what I’m capable of, he knows the kind of end that awaits him.
He begged for a quick death as we strung him up to the cross, cried, pleaded with us, hoping that his tears would spark something in us. He was right, it did, but it wasn’t quite what he was hoping for.
The moment he started crying, my brothers and I, all we saw was a coward, one who chose to hurt an innocent woman. A coward who did nothing to help when she begged for mercy, when she begged for them to stop.
His tears earned him two solid punches from eleven men. We then stripped him naked and threw a bucket of ice-cold water over him before leaving him to stew on his own fear for nearly twenty-four hours. Four days we’ve had him here; four whole days this little bitch has been whining and begging.
I pull my arm back and slam my fist into his stomach. He sucks in a breath before coughing and casting his eyes toward my face.
“Please,” he begs again.
I blow out a small half laugh. “How many times did she beg him to stop? How many times did you stand there and watch Snake beat and rape that woman?” He closes his eyes and drops his head.
“You have a right to look ashamed of yourself, what you—”
“I’m sorry, I was just following orders. I’m new, I do as I’m told. Please let me go. I’ll stay here, I’ll work for you guys, just don’t hurt me anymore.”
I can’t believe my fucking ears. “You’re kidding, right?” I ask him, stunned. But this fucker just shakes his head at me.
“No, please…” he starts again, but I swing, punching him in the left-hand side of his jaw with such force I hear his bone crack.
“You are one slimy motherfucker. You’d turn your back on your own club to save your own skin? Do you really think we would want someone in our club we couldn’t trust? Do you really think that we’d allow you to breathe the same fucking air as her?
“You don’t deserve to live. I’m not fucking done with you yet, but I promise you, before you die, you will know what pain and fear really fucking feel like.” I pull my arm back and swing at the side of his head, hitting him so hard it knocks him out.
I need to get out of this basement, I need some fucking air.
Leaving him hanging there, I storm out, slamming the door behind me, marching up the stairs and heading around the front of the building to head into the main room of the clubhouse.
As I step through the main door, my eardrums are blessed with the sound of ACDC, ‘Highway to Hell’ playing. I turn my neck from side to side, cracking it, trying to ease the impending headache I feel building.
As I make my way over to the bar, I signal for the Prospect to grab me a beer. I climb onto the stool when Nitro slides onto the one next to me.
The Prospect places two bottles of beer on the counter and then immediately moves to the other side of the bar.
“So…” Nitro says before taking a drink from his bottle. He doesn't say anything else, he knows I’ll answer.
I shake my head and gulp down half of the bottle before responding. “Fucker hasn’t given much, begged for mercy, offered to come work for us, cried like a little bitch. I’m not ready to give up, but I don’t think I’ll get much out of him. I’m not even sure that he knows much.”
I hear him turn in his stool, throwing a quick glance his way. He’s leaning back, his elbows resting on the bar, as he scans the room. “I know what’s going through your head right now.”
I turn to face him. “What?” I ask.
“You’re questioning your ability to do this job. You feel like you’re failing.” He stops to look at me, but I don’t face him. I hate that he’s right.
Since I was promoted to Sergeant at Arms, I’ve felt like I’ve not been good enough. I feel like I’m failing. Like I’m letting my brothers down.
“Church, now,” he tells me, and I watch as he slides from his stool, grabbing his beer and heading toward our meeting room.
Shit. Being dragged into Church in the middle of a party isn’t a good thing, even worse when you’re the only one being called in there. I don’t hesitate, climbing from the stool, grabbing my beer and following the Prez.
I secure my mobile in the lock box outside of the room and head through the door. I attempt to push the door closed, but it’s stopped before I get a chance.
My heart skips a beat as Wrath steps around the door and closes it behind him and then takes his seat at the table right next to Nitro.
Nitro tips his head, indicating for me to take my seat. I do and then position it to face them both.
If both my Prez and VP are in here, then I must be in some serious shit. Fear ripples through me at the irrational thought I might lose my position as SAA.
As my brothers sit in silence watching me, I take a sip of my beer then place the bottle on the table in front of me.
“We’ve noticed that you’ve been pretty quiet for the last few months. You don’t interact with the brothers as much as you used to, and I know that you’ve been in the security room watching the compound most nights with the Prospects,” Nitro states.
He doesn’t ask any questions, he’s stating facts that he knows, and I don’t need to tell him why I’m quiet or why I spend my nights in the security room, I’m almost certain he knows the reasons why.
But as we sit there, the minutes ticking over, my brothers watching me, I feel like the silence might suffocate me. I reach for my beer, but I don’t take a drink, instead I pick at the label on the bottle, hoping for something to distract myself with.
“So…” I begin, not looking at them. Too scared to see the looks in their eyes. “Is this where you tell me that I’m no longer the Sergeant at Arms? Is this where you tell me I’m back to being an Enforcer?”
“What?” Wrath asks.
Nitro leans back in his seat, kicking his feet up on the table and crossing them at the ankles, his eyebrows raised. “That’s not why the VP and I called you in here, Ice. We just want to talk. We want you to talk to us.”
My eyes flick between him and Wrath, and I contemplate just staying quiet, but I know they won’t let me leave until I start talking.
I blow out a breath and drop my head. “Ever since Marissa was taken, I’ve questioned whether I’m the right man to be in the SAA position. My job is to protect everyone in the club, and I failed you.” I turn to face Wrath. “I failed Marissa, she was taken and hurt under my watch—”
“Stop,” Nitro snaps as I raise my head to look directly at him.
“As my Sergeant, your job is to protect the club and everyone in it. It’s your job to protect our assets and our compound.
But it’s not your job to do it alone, and if there is even a single fucking second you feel like it is, then as your President I’m not doing my job correctly.
You’re not alone, Ice, never. We’re a brotherhood for a reason.
We’re all responsible for the club’s safety.
” His eyes never leave mine as he grabs his beer and tips it back, drinking down half of it.
“Brother.” Wrath pulls my attention to him.
“What happened to Marissa was not your fault. You think you feel guilty? Every day I think about the fact that if I hadn’t of pushed her away, she may never have been taken.
If I’d been there, she would have been safe.
” He drops his head and take a few deep breaths before looking back up at me.
“She reminds me every single day that the only people to blame are those that chose to take her and hurt her. That I’m not responsible for other people's actions. And neither are you.” He gives me a small smile and then turns to Nitro.
“When one bleeds, we all bleed.” They quote the last line of the club’s motto in unison.
“Now, Marissa is asleep upstairs, and I don’t feel like partying with those fuckers out there.
What do you say you and I go have a different kind of party in the basement?
” Wrath gives me a wicked grin, and I nod in agreement.
I know they are right; I know I’m not alone, but I feel like I have so much to prove, and I want them to be proud of me.
I want them to be certain that they made the right choice when they promoted me.
“Brother?” Wrath questions Nitro.
He just shakes his head. “Nah, you two fuckers go have some fun. I’ve got some shit to do.”
He stays seated as Wrath and I stand, before heading out and back down to the basement to take care of our little guest.