Twenty-Two
W ater splashed in my face, and I choked on it as it filled my gaping mouth, and some of it slipped down my throat. I coughed and gasped for air, not even realising that it meant the gag had been removed.
“Wakey wakey, asshole, we’re only just getting started. Cut his shirt off, brother, why should he get any dignity?”
I finally managed to drag in a breath, and watched helplessly as Torch sliced my t-shirt apart with a knife, unable to fight it, with my wrists and ankles tethered to the infamous chair of death.
“Aw, where’s his Phoenix ink? I wanted to burn it off his skin, what with him being an unworthy piece of shit.” Ugh, he’d fucking do it too.
“It’s been blacked out, but then, he didn’t deserve to wear my artwork, or the club’s colours,” Has-Been said, backing away after he spotted the covered up tattoo. I was at the mercy of Torch, with Has-Been and Stitch in the room, only Stitch was leaning against the wall, watching Torch as he prepared to brutalise me, and all I cared about was Sophie.
“Brother-”
Torch turned on me, with a glare so fierce that my words actually dried up, and I fell silent. He hated me so much, and even though I knew he had every reason to, it fucking destroyed me. I missed him, and I missed the club, and I wished I could go back in time and stop myself, before I fucking turned on them.
“I’m not your fucking brother, and he’s not your brother, and neither is he. You have no fucking family now. You should have stayed dead, you dumb cunt, because you could have avoided this.” His jaw tightened, but his eyes weren’t quite so fierce anymore, they looked haunted instead.
“Is Sophie okay, just… just please tell me she’s okay,” I gasped out, and Torch darted a glance at Stitch, just as Reacher walked in the door.
“Look at you pretending someone matters to you. Hey, Pres, I was just warming him up for you.”
Reacher’s gaze slid from my eyes, to the faded Warriors tattoo on my chest, and he grimaced.
“You were hiding that from us the whole time. Do we need to start doing full body searches on prospects?”
“Pres… is Ally okay?” He grabbed a fistful of my hair, and wrenched my head back.
“You don’t say her fucking name, asshole. You nearly fucking killed her.”
I groaned, facing his fury with my mental faculties well and truly intact at last, and my conscience screaming at me.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, as his eyes widened, “I wish I could undo it.”
He glanced at Stitch as he joined us, and someone cursed behind them.
“Bit late for apologies, Micro. We trusted you. We put our lives in your hands, and you did your best to destroy us.”
“You came after our fucking women, you cowardly cunt!” Stitch hissed, glancing around him.
“Someone grab my fucking kit.” Oh shit . I knew exactly what that meant, and I couldn’t let them silence me until I’d said my piece. She deserved my very last fucking breath.
“Wait! Is Sophie okay, please, I promise I just need to know she got out okay.” Reacher’s eyes narrowed at me, and he leaned close, his hands pinning my tethered wrists, in a move I’d seen so many times in this very room, but was experiencing for the first time.
“I don’t care what you need. I don’t care what apologies you make, now you know you’re not getting out. Being faced with your impending death is known to loosen tongues, and draw out fake apologies and confessions, but we’re not dumb enough to fucking listen. It’s too little, too fucking late.”
Fuck it. I was dead already, but the least I could do was to plead her case. Save her.
“She’s a good person, Reacher. She got caught up with those cunts, and they were forcing her to cook for them. She was trapped. They were using her baby sis as leverage. Just keep them safe, please.”
Reacher backed up and murmured something to Stitch, who replied just as quietly. Too quietly.
“They saw the bloodbath you left at her place, Micro. You have no excuses left. No demands. No answers I care enough to push for. Torch, he’s all yours.”
My blood ran cold in my veins, as he and Stitch left the room, and Torch approached me with a savage grin, and a blowtorch in his hand. He lit it right in front of me, then turned to Has, who already looked a bit green around the gills. Suck it up, pretty boy, you’re not the one about to feel this hellfire.
“I’m about to do my thing, brother. You should leave, before you puke like a pussy.”
He waited until Has left, and closed the door, and the torch’s flame was quenched a second later. Was he going to go easy on me, or was it his way of tormenting me, by making me think he was?
“Never thought I’d see you again, you know. How the fuck were you dumb enough to get caught up in another club, especially with those fucks?”
I didn’t flinch from his eyes, because while I had the chance to be real with him, I wanted to, I’d always struggled to front with him, because we’d truly been like brothers. I’d destroyed the most important fucking relationship I’d ever had. The one with my brother, standing in front of me now, with pure hate in his eyes.
“I wasn’t caught up with them. Sophie was. I was trying to get her out, but I killed one of their guys, and they came for us. Not sure how you guys got involved though.”
Torch eyed the blowtorch almost lovingly. “See, you sound almost sincere, but you taught me that only bullshit ever comes from your mouth, so what do you want me to do here?”
“Do whatever you want to me, man, I can’t stop you, and I wouldn’t if I could. You deserve your revenge. Just please keep her safe, and her sister. They’ll go after her now, like they threatened. Might already have her. Shit. I fucked this all up.” All I’d wanted to do was help Sophie, and instead I’d just escalated her fate, and her sister’s.
“We don’t put women at risk, man, and you know that. You took advantage of that so called weakness, and used it against us. Remember that?”
“I know. I have no excuse, and I should have kept my beef to those who deserved it, but I don’t even fucking hate them now. I just… Jesus, I fucked so much up.” My eyes burned and tears escaped, and I clenched my fists, wishing I could hide the evidence of my weakness. “Men don’t fucking cry,” I hissed at myself, that lifelong habit too ingrained to try and fight it.
“It’s almost like you’re trying to show remorse, Micro, but here’s the thing. You lied better than anyone I’ve ever met. You pretended to be one of us. You wore the colours, and you were our fucking brother. All of that was a lie. All of it was a role you were playing. You expect me to believe this is real now? How can I?”
I lowered my head. “You can’t. I didn’t deserve your trust then, and I don’t now. As long as she’s safe, I can face whatever you do to me. Just know that it was never fake. Not with you. Not with so many, but especially you. Stabbing you was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. It was like stabbing myself. It’s okay that you don’t believe me. I’m sorry though, for everything.”
Torch squeezed his eyes shut for a moment and took a deep breath, and when they opened again, the anger was back.
“So you get your fucking closure, and deign to die now? Fuck you. Fuck you all the way to hell.” The torch blazed with terrifying flame again, and as he lowered it to my chest, to my old club tattoo, and as searing pain followed, I began to scream.
Torch
E very scream broke a little more of my fucking soul, because I’d never expected to see him again, and being left to his torture was going to destroy me. I wished he’d just stayed away. It’d been months, and we’d just settled back into normal life again, albeit life without one of my closest fucking brothers. Why couldn’t he just stay out of biker life, and out of ours?
“FUCK!” He yelled, as my torch singed away more of his skin, more of that fucking evil club’s ink. I pulled back, giving him a moment to breathe, and wondered why the fuck I was dragging this out.
“Why, man? Why would you do all this to avenge a fucker so twisted that he’s better off dead?” I wanted him to get pissed, to show me that nasty vengeful side that we saw when we first captured him, because this contrite remorseful guy was really fucking hard to torture. It was making me feel like a monster. It wasn’t supposed to go down like this.
“Fuck!” Micro gasped, practically panting with the pain. “He was all I had, he raised me, and they killed him!”
I’d only burned a small line across his fucking ink, and I couldn’t bring myself to do more. I never thought it’d be his screams I’d hear when I did that. In fact, when he escaped, I was relieved, because it saved me from this moment. I was enough of a coward that I was fucking relieved.
“Was he a good dad?” I asked as I set the torch down, and rubbed my sweating palms against my jeans. What kind of childhood had he had, growing up in that environment?
“Oh yeah, he was the best,” Micro gasped, rolling his eyes, “let’s see, he murdered my mother in front of me, while he and his guys raped her, but it’s okay, because he forced me to join in… oh yeah, and then he let his VP rape m… fuck!”
What the hell? “Why would you want to avenge that? I mean, weren’t you glad he was gone?”
Micro sagged in the chair, his breathing coming in ragged little pants now.
“Eventually, yeah, but at first, that pain was so fucking intense. I,” he hesitated, finally sighing heavily, “I never got to make him proud of me, okay? I always fucking failed. Too weak. Too slow. Too much of a pussy. Nothing was ever good enough!” Now he was yelling, spittle flying from his lips, as his eyes seemed to get wilder and more unhinged.
“Shoulda fucking killed him myself! Only I was too fucking WEAK! Just like he always said.”