Chapter Twenty-Eight
Spike
“Is it going to scar?” Riley asks from our bed, her voice laced with exhaustion.
Patch doesn’t hesitate as he threads the needle through her torn skin. “Some spots will,” he admits. “I’ll get you a cream that should help.”
My fists clench at my sides. Seeing the mess Chuck made of her precious skin has me seeing red all over again. And don’t even get me started on the bruises.
The only reason I’m not with Bones, Tank, and Knuckles right now and making sure our guest is comfortable is because I can’t bring myself to leave her side.
Once we made it back to the compound and Riley regained consciousness, it took a full five minutes just to calm her down enough to explain that Chuck no longer had Asher. Even then, she didn’t believe it until she saw him with her own eyes. Only then did she agree to let Patch work on her back.
And now, watching her tremble beneath the doc’s hands, watching silent tears slip onto our bed, I feel helpless.
“Can you give her another shot?” I ask, my voice tight. “She’s in pain.”
Patch shakes his head as he keeps working. “She can’t feel a thing I’m doing, Prez.”
That doesn’t matter. She’s still hurting. Even if it isn’t physical.
Shrugging off my cut, I shift onto my side, bringing myself closer to her. I reach out, wiping away a tear before it can disappear into the pillow.
“Everything is okay, baby,” I murmur. “Chuck will never lay another hand on you again.”
She blinks up at me, her eyes hazy but sharp with something I don’t quite expect.
“You have to let him go, Spike,” she whispers. “If he disappears, this place will be the first place they look.”
I shake my head. “Foster already took care of it.”
Her brow furrows. “What do you mean?”
“Chuck was planning on retiring. He put in his notice weeks ago,” I explain. “After Foster embarrassed him at the station, people will assume he left town. Moved away. Foster is making sure there’s a paper trail to follow, just in case.”
“So… he’s gone?”
Not yet.
But he will be.
“He’ll never bother you again, baby.”
She doesn’t press for more. We lapse into silence as Patch continues, and I make it my mission to wipe away every tear before it reaches her pillow.
Finally, Patch leans back and strips off his gloves. “She’ll need to sleep on her stomach for at least a week,” he instructs. “No bathing until tomorrow, and nothing on her back that could pull at the stitches. She has a broken rib, but there isn’t anything we can do about that except pain management until it heals. The pain will be a hell of a lot worse when she wakes up, but that’s normal. Call me if it doesn’t get a bit better over the next week.”
I nod, but Riley is the one who surprises me.
“Why don’t you live here?” she asks softly, glancing up at Patch.
He scoffs, already packing his supplies. “Not much of a people person. However, I hope you and that tiny boy plan to stick around.”
“We do,” she says without hesitation. “I just hope you’ll come around so we can get to know you.”
Patch pauses for a moment, then nods. “Just call if you need me, and I’ll come if I can.”
Turning for the door, he mutters, “No sleeping on that back, woman. Got it?”
“Got it,” she smiles. “Thanks, Patchy.”
Grunting, he leaves the room.
Riley shifts slightly, careful not to move too much. I can tell the numbing shot is starting to wear off, but she’s fighting the exhaustion, her eyes heavy yet still locked on mine.
“I remember seeing him,” she murmurs suddenly.
“Who?” I ask, brushing my fingers through her hair.
“Max,” she whispers. “Before everything went dark, I saw him… I think he helped me.”
My jaw tightens. Max. That traitorous son of a bitch. Except… something doesn’t sit right.
“Yeah,” I mutter. “He sent me a text telling me where you were. I don’t know how he knew.”
Riley shifts again, wincing. “Do you think he really betrayed you?”
I exhale heavily, staring at the ceiling for a moment before looking back at her. “I don’t know,” I admit. “The way everything played out, it damn sure looked like he did. But if Max was working against us, why the hell would he be there last night? Why would he take out Chuck’s men and give me the location?”
Riley chews her lip. “Maybe… maybe there’s more to his story than what we see on the surface.”
I nod slowly, running my hand down her arm, careful to avoid any of her injuries. “Yeah. That’s what I’m starting to think, too.”
She stays quiet for a moment, and when she speaks again, her voice is barely above a whisper. “I hate that I was too weak to fight back.”
I cup her cheek, forcing her to look at me. “Don’t you dare say that, Riley. You survived him. Not just tonight. But for years. You fought in your own way. And now you’re here, in our bed, where you belong. Loved. Worshipped. Safe.”
Her lip trembles, and before I can say another word, a tear slips free. Then another. Then another.
I don’t stop them. I just lean in, brushing soft kisses against her damp cheeks, wiping each one away before they can fall too far.
“I love you, Riley,” I whisper against her skin. “I love you so damn much.”
She sniffles, her breath hitching as she presses her face against my chest.
“I swear to you, baby… I will never let anyone hurt you again. Not so much as a damn splinter.”
She lets out a soft, broken laugh, and I hold her tighter. Slowly, her breathing evens out, the tension in her body melting as exhaustion takes over.
I watch her for a long moment, running my fingers gently through her hair. Then, carefully, I slide out of bed and tuck the sheet around her, purposefully avoiding the heavy blanket.
Stepping out into the hallway, I find Abby lingering near the door.
“You’ll sit with her?” I ask softly.
She nods. “Of course.”
I squeeze her shoulder in silent gratitude before turning away.
Bones, Tank, and Knuckles are waiting with our guest.
And I’ve got unfinished business to handle.
***
Chuck is exactly where we left him. Stripped down, strapped to the chair in the middle of the room, and already looking half-dead. His head lolls forward, blood dripping from a gash at his temple where Knuckles got a little too eager earlier. But he’s awake. Barely.
“Rise and shine, motherfucker,” I sneer, gripping his hair and yanking his head up. His bloodshot eyes blink sluggishly, and I can already tell he’s slipping in and out of consciousness. That won’t do.
I nod to Bones, who steps forward and splashes a bucket of ice-cold water over Chuck’s body. He jolts awake, coughing and shivering as the water seeps into the wounds Bones has already carved into him.
“I was wondering when you’d finally check in on us,” Knuckles smirks, flipping the knife between his fingers. “We only played a little. Made sure there was still plenty of canvas for you, Prez. We even sat back and let Tank work out some of his anger issues before he left to deal with club shit.”
Chuck groans, his head swaying as he struggles against the restraints. “Y-you… you’re all dead… men…”
Bones snorts. “You still got jokes? That’s cute.” He crouches in front of Chuck, his expression darkening. “You know, I gotta give you credit, Chuck. You haven’t screamed very loud. Of course, we’re gonna be sure to fix that immediately. But props to you, regardless.”
Chuck spits at his feet, blood and saliva mixing together in a pathetic little puddle. “Fuck you.”
I chuckle, rolling up my sleeves as I step closer. “Nah, see, that’s the problem. You should’ve been more worried about fucking with me.”
I reach for the blade on the table, testing its weight before pressing it just under his ribs. Not deep enough to kill him. Not yet. Just enough to feel it. Just enough to make him suffer.
Chuck hisses through his teeth, his body jerking, but there’s nowhere to go.
“I’m not well adept at Bones’ specialty. He’s neat and tidy. A perfect carving. But, I can still make a blade slice through skin in my own way. This is for my son,” I murmur, dragging the blade along his skin, carving deep enough to make him scream. I don’t stop, not even when his voice cracks.
“There it is,” Knuckles laughs. “I knew you had it in you.”
“This is for Riley.” Another cut. A bit deeper. But not deadly.
“For every goddamn thing you put her through.” And another. This time, I may have pushed a bit harder than I wanted, but damn it, he fucking abused her for years.
Blood drips from his body, pooling on the floor beneath him, staining his skin, but I’m not done. Not even close.
Bones steps up next, gripping Chuck’s jaw and forcing him to look up. “She begged for mercy, didn’t she?” he asks coldly. “Begged for you to stop. But you didn’t.”
Chuck doesn’t answer, his chest rising and falling in short, pained gasps. Bones doesn’t wait for a response. He simply pulls out a blade and slices a thin layer of skin from Chuck’s face. His screams making my cold-hearted friend laugh.
Knuckles hums thoughtfully as he kneels beside Chuck. “See, we were gonna make this quick. But you took your time with Riley, didn’t you? You beat her before you began torturing her, didn’t you?”
He digs the blade into Chuck’s thigh, twisting just enough to make him howl in agony.
“Please…” Chuck chokes out.
Knuckles’ grin is all teeth. “Nah, not yet. I wanna hear you scream a little more. Bones needs your pain in order to feel something. I’d like it very much if my good friend could feel happiness for a little while. So, scream for him, Chuck. Scream as loud as you can.”
And he does. Over and over again until his voice is nothing more than a wet, broken rasp.
By the time we step back, Chuck is barely breathing, his body trembling violently as blood seeps from every wound we’ve given him. His eyes are glazed, his lips cracked, and I know he won’t last much longer.
Bones holds a layer of skin up to the light, inspecting it for whatever the fuck he’s looking for. I shake my head at the sick fucker.
Crouching beside Chuck, gripping his chin between my fingers, forcing him to look at me one last time. “This is where I leave you,” I say, my voice cold, merciless. “Bleeding out like the worthless piece of shit you are.”
His head lolls forward, his breath coming in ragged, uneven gasps. He won’t make it another hour. But it’ll be an hour of pure agony.
“Make sure he stays awake until his last breath,” I say, stepping over the growing pool of blood and heading for the stairs. “I want him to feel every second of pain until the devil drags him home.”
Bones clicks his tongue, shaking his head. “Damn shame we ran out of ice water,” he mutters. He picks up a blowtorch from the table, the flame hissing to life. “Guess this will do just fine. Ever been torched on the heel of your foot, Commissioner? Hurts like a bitch.”
Chuck flinches, but he’s too weak to fight, too far gone to beg.
Knuckles grins, crouching beside him. “Too bad you won’t last long,” he muses. “I think you would’ve loved to hear how Bones got his road name. I mean, you’ve experienced some of it this evening, but not everything. Actually…”
I don’t stick around to listen. My men will handle the rest.
I step outside, inhaling the cool night air, letting it cleanse me before I head inside the clubhouse to shower and wash away the blood, sweat, and the last remnants of that sick bastard before I go home to my wife.
My wife who is finally fucking safe.