Chapter Eleven
Wolf heard the sound of approaching footsteps, and rolled off the bed immediately. He had no idea what time it was – the lack of window made that impossible to tell – but if he had to guess, he’d say that he’d been in this fucking cell for at least two days. Probably closer to three.
Once again, he reminded himself that Scars was holding hard to the decoy plan, and that this was just about enough time passing for Scars to pull the trigger, and talk to King about his worries and suspicions. Ice too, because Wolf knew that the man was back on board.
There were voices outside, and he strained to hear the words. Nothing was clear enough to make any sense, so he stared grimly at the door, waited to see if it was going to open, or if another tray of revolting crap was going to be shoved through for him to eat.
The door lock turned and Wolf tensed. Part of him just wanted to rush whatever asshole was standing there, take his chances that he could overpower whoever it was, weapon or no. The only thing holding Wolf back from doing that was that he had no clue if he’d escape this room, just to be faced with a full clubhouse of MC fuckers. He thought it better to get some more information about what was waiting for him on the other side of the door before he attempted a breakout.
Assuming he could glean anything. So far, he had nothing to go on except for footsteps up and down what sounded like a hallway.
That ain’t super helpful, though, not enough to try to take whoever is comin’ in .
Not yet, anyway .
The door swung open, revealing a glimpse of long, dimly-lit hallway, and Wolf narrowed his eyes as Viper and Preacher stepped into the room. Viper had a gun pointed at him, and Preacher was behind his President, holding what looked like a cardboard box.
“Wolf,” Viper said cheerfully. “Did you get any sleep?”
Wolf didn’t reply.
“Rude.” Viper looked at Preacher. “Don’t you think?”
“‘Offer hospitality to one another without grumbling’,” Preacher said. “Book of Peter.”
“Am I grumbling ?” Viper said in mock surprise. “Oooops.”
“Well, our guest is behaving badly,” Preacher conceded. “He has an ungrateful heart.”
“Do you?” Viper asked Wolf. “Have an ungrateful heart?”
Wolf stared at them steadily and still said nothing. Viper heaved a massive sigh.
“The thing is, Wolf,” Viper said. “It occurred to me that you might be lonely down here all by yourself. I decided to do something about that.” He gestured at Preacher. “I brought you a couple of guests to keep you company.”
Right away, Wolf was utterly convinced that there were vipers in that box; it would be some kind of weird game of perfect and ironic symmetry with the motherfucker’s name. Suddenly he found himself wishing that he’d actually paid attention in science class (or even just gone to a science class), or maybe watched a goddamn National Geographic documentary once in a while, because he had the feeling that he was going to be locked in this room with whatever was in that box… and he was pretty sure that vipers were venomous.
If the one standin’ right in front of me is any example .
There was movement inside the box now, and at Viper’s nod, Preacher set it down on the ground. Wolf braced himself… but whatever he’d imagined was going to emerge, he was nothing like ready for the reality.
“You asked me why I didn’t just shoot you in the head the second that you walked into my clubhouse,” Viper said, then gestured at the box. “ This is why.”
Despite himself, Wolf moved a bit closer, trying to see inside. He figured that if the other two men could stand there all relaxed and unworried with a mystery box right at their feet, then nothing lethal was going to come slithering out.
He saw blankets, and what looked like wool, and maybe some kind of clothing. Even as the realization started to wash over him, Wolf still didn’t trust his eyes. It wasn’t until a sharp cry came from the box, followed by a tiny waving fist, that he fully grasped what the hell he was actually looking at.
“A baby?” Wolf said faintly. “You brought me a fuckin’ baby ?”
“Nope,” Viper said merrily, pulling the blanket away so that Wolf could see the box’s full contents. “I brought you two!”
“Jesus Christ.” Wolf stared at the tiny children lying there in a fucking box on a fucking cement floor in a fucking cell. “Who – where –”
“C’mon, man. Who do you know who’s had two babies recently?”
Wolf looked up to meet Viper’s black eyes as understanding hit him like a lightning bolt.
“Dux and Drake and Briley…” he breathed. “About two weeks ago…”
Viper was nodding with encouragement. “Uh-huh.”
“So this – so these –”
“Yep.”
“ Why –”
“Because kids are the best fucking leverage there is, so they have serious value for me,” Viper said briskly. “The thing is, though, that they’re needy and annoying and noisy, and I can’t deal with any of their shit – literally.”
“So you want me to take care of them,” Wolf said slowly. “ That’s why I’m still alive. I’m the fuckin’ babysitter.”
“ Exactly !” Viper beamed. “You’re not doing anything, really, just sitting around here waiting, so you might as well make yourself useful.”
Wolf felt panic start to rise in him. “I don’t know nothin ’ about babies, man.”
“Well, you’d better learn, because if these fucking brats croak, it’ll be your fault. Won’t it?” Viper cocked his head. “And how would the Keeler boys take it if they found out that their ex-President killed their kids?”
“I –”
“So.” Viper gave him a broad smile. “We’ll bring down everything that the little assholes need, and it’s up to you to keep them fed and breathing. At least one of them, or I lose part of my hold on the situation.” He turned to Preacher. “Anything else?”
Preacher shook his tattooed head.
“OK, then.” Viper shrugged, stepped back to the door as Wolf stared down in horror at the babies who were starting to make squeaking noises; he had no idea what that meant, but he knew that he was going to have to figure it out and fast. “Oh, actually, there is one more thing that I want to say.”
Wolf looked up. He knew that he had murder in his eyes.
“I know that you’re planning on escaping from here,” Viper said quietly. “Either on your own or with some kind of set-up with those fuckers Scars, King and Ice. You haven’t actually made any moves, but of course you’re thinking about it. Gathering information about where you are, what’s outside the door, what noises you hear above you, waiting for some signal to get picked up by your asshole friends so they’ll bust you out. I mean, it’s what I’d do, what anybody with an ounce of self-preservation would do. But now…”
He pointed his chin at the box.
“ Now if you try to get away, you’ll have to take them with you, won’t you? Any plan has to factor in two brats who can’t walk or be trusted to shut the fuck up, let alone help… so that seriously limits your options, doesn’t it? And if your boys come in here on some rescue mission, guns blazing and shooting first and asking questions later, can you be sure that there won’t be a couple of tiny little casualties?”
The door slammed behind Viper and Preacher, and Wolf shut his eyes briefly. He’d never been anything like a praying man, but as he stood over the twins’ and Briley’s son and daughter, he sent up a fervent hope that there was a deity who deigned to check in with Wolf Connor once in a while, and that he still had some credit with the house.
Then he knelt down on the floor. Got to figuring out just how the hell to keep these babies alive.