Chapter 15 #3
“He’s not there, but he was.” Hawk pauses, looking at Storm.
“Signs that he was there, left something behind.” He continues, giving a slight shake of his head, warning me.
“It’s, fuck, just wait here for Ghost,” he grits out as Enzo tries to fight their hold.
“Calm the fuck down. You getting arrested ain’t helping no one! ” Hawk barks.
I look from them, then back to the house. An uneasy feeling settles in my gut. My feet move before I can think better of it, and I take off in a run to the house.
“Drix!” Storm yells after me.
“Stay there!” I bark over my shoulder, taking the steps up to the house two at a time before storming into the house. I pause when I see Ghost stood in the middle of the living room. His shoulders are rigid as he stares ahead. Rage paces back and forth like a caged animal.
Dad steps in front of me, placing a hand on my chest. “Son, don’t,” he warns.
My brows furrow as I push forward, moving him out of the way to see what it is that has everyone so bent out of shape.
As I get closer, I see that there are images stuck to the wall, all of Storm.
She’s asleep, naked. All images of her most intimate areas.
She’s unconscious in every single one. My chest begins to rise and fall at a rapid rate.
It’s not anger, and it’s not rage. It’s boiling molten lava pumping through my veins.
A guttural raw tear tears from my chest as I rip and yank down each and every picture, tearing them from the wall and shredding them into pieces at my feet.
Panting, I turn my attention to Ghost, who wasn’t staring at the wall like I originally thought.
Acid walks in, his facial expression a look of disgust and anger.
He’s carrying a box in his hands. “Fuck, you aren’t going to want to see this,” he states.
After placing the box down, he pulls out more images, but not of Storm.
These are of other girls. A small sigh of relief passes my lips, but as we look, I realise it’s not just girls.
“Is that in the hospital?!” I ask, stunned.
Acid gravely nods. “It appears the doctor was abusing unconscious patients,” he spits with disgust.
“I want to burn this fucking house down to the fucking ground,” Ghost seethes, his jaw so tight I’m surprised his teeth hasn’t cracked.
“Fine, but we can’t torch this box. We drop it at the hospital. Let them notify the victims,” Acid points out.
“Kill him, kill him, chop him up inch by inch. Inch by fucking inch,” Rage mutters as he paces back and forth, twirling his blade in his hand.
“We are going to need to find him a release,” Spider mutters, looking at Rage.
“We had to find him one a couple of weeks ago. We keep finding outlets, so close together, he will end up getting caught and chucked inside,” Dad points out.
“Spider, you still got fighting contacts?” I ask.
He nods. “Sure.” He looks back to Rage. “We would have to remove his weapons from him, but yeah, it could do him good. I will make the call.”
“Er, guys, you are going to want to see this!” Scar yells from another room.
We all frown and go looking for him. As soon as we enter the kitchen, we spot the basement door ajar. The smell hits us hard, making us take a step back as we all cough and gag. There is only one thing that gives off that smell.
Covering our mouths and nose with our shirts, we walk down into the basement.
There, sat in armchairs, holding hands, are the rotting corpses of I’m guessing Zeke’s parents.
Maggots roam in and out of their flesh, consuming it; no sign of injury to them.
Looks like they both fell asleep. Rage walks up to them, his eyes roaming over them, not in the least bit phased by the eyewatering smell.
He lifts the dad’s arm, a loud crack echoing.
“God, fuck, Rage.” Acid retches.
“It’s the rigor mortis. They’ve been dead for weeks, maybe longer.” He shrugs. “Yep. See that?” He points on the underside of the arm. All I see is grey rotting flesh.
“No, Rage, we don’t see shit!” Ghost snaps.
“Needle prick. He killed them,” Rage says, dropping the arm back down. He dusts his hands off. “My guess is he likes to save people.” Rage nods.
Frowning, I look at him. “How in the fuck does he like to save people? When he has literally killed his parents?” Dad points out.
“Because it went very fucking wrong. He likes to bring people back from the brink of death. Be the saviour. My guess is it went wrong. He started drinking, doing drugs, or whatever he was pumping into his fucking system, as he killed his own parents,” Rage states casually.
His anger from earlier seems to have eased as he eyes the two dead bodies.
“Don’t even think about it,” Spider growls at Rage. His amber gaze snaps to Spider, a snarl curling at his lips.
“He’s right. Leave the box of photographs in here with them.
We will get one of the neighbours to call it in.
These poor fuckers deserve some dignity.
It’s not their fault they have a cunt of a son,” Ghost snaps his orders.
He turns to walk back up the stairs, stopping on the bottom step.
He turns around to face us. “Not a fucking word to anyone about the pictures of Storm.” Everyone nods before he turns his attention to me.
“You don’t tell her. She doesn’t need to fucking know this shit.
She doesn’t need any setbacks, and the last thing we need is Star getting fucking arrested, because if you think she was fucking feral before…
” He shakes his head. “She will kill him, and anyone else that gets in her path.”
“You are handling this better than I would have expected,” Spider points out.
Ghost looks at his VP. “I ain’t handling shit.
She’s my daughter. I want to slaughter him.
I want him crying and begging on his knees, just like he did to my fucking baby girl.
I am hanging on by a very thin fucking thread right now, but I have to contain it.
I have to keep that locked down tight for her, for my wife, for my son, and my club.
” Turning back around, he walks up the stairs.
All of us exchange a look before getting the fuck out of there.