Chapter Thirty-Seven
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
STEPPING INSIDE THE roundhouse was like entering a different world, one that made your skin prickle with a mix of dread and discomfort. The walls were lined with rough-hewn wooden planks, the original paint faded to a sickly gray, while deep shadows pooled in every inch of the space, barely touched by the single, dim bulb swinging from the center beam overhead.
In the center of the barn, an old wooden chair sat under the light, bolted to the floor. The chair’s arms were nicked and scarred, with grooves and dents that told stories of men who had sat there before. Around it, various tools and chains hung from the walls, some rusted, some polished, all of them ready to make an impression—each one a silent threat that hinted at the room’s purpose. A faint smell of oil and metal lingered in the air, mixed with a damp, earthy scent that settled into your bones.
The floor was bare concrete, cracked and stained, with a dark, almost reddish tint in places that made you wonder if the rumors about this barn were true. On one wall, a metal locker held an assortment of supplies, its door slightly ajar, as if to offer a glimpse of what it held—a crowbar, a length of rope, and a heavy chain coiled like a waiting serpent.
Every sound inside the barn sounded loud, vibrating off the walls: a creak, a footstep, a low murmur. It was a space designed to strip away confidence, to make even the toughest men feel small. Here, there was no escape, no windows, and the only door was thick and heavy, its lock turning with a slow, deliberate finality.
For the club members, this barn was a tool, a place where business was handled. But for anyone brought in against their will, it was something else entirely—a place that whispered of secrets kept, debts settled, and a warning not soon forgotten.
It had a dirt cellar in the back that was used to hold any problems that needed taken care of.
I stood inside the roundhouse, this old round barn, that we turned into a torture chamber of sorts. The air in the roundhouse was thick, heavy with anticipation as we gathered inside. The low murmurs of the club members, all of us waiting for what we knew was coming. Jenny and Barbie had crossed the line—betrayed the club in the worst possible way—and now, they were going to answer for it.
Old Boots wouldn’t be having a trial, his body found in the dumpster behind the old hotel. James shooting him was an easier death than what he would have faced by the club. He got lucky that way.
Devil stood at the head of the room, his arms crossed over his chest, his eyes cold and unflinching as he stared at the door. I could feel the anger simmering beneath his calm exterior, the same anger that had been eating me whole since we found out what they’d done.
They were the reason Fiona had been taken. Barbie may have given James the information he needed, But Jenny knew, and she hadn’t cared about the consequences. She hadn’t cared about Fiona’s life.
The door opened, Mystic brought the women in, their eyes wide, their body tense and their clothes dirty from the cellar. They knew they were walking into the devil’s den. Both women looked around the room, their gaze darting between Devil, Horse, and me, and for a second, I thought they were going to turn and run.
But they didn’t. They kept walking, stopping in the middle of the room, hands wringing together in front of them. They looked fucking terrified. Good. They should be.
“Barbie... Jenny,” Devil said, his voice soft but lethal. “You know why you’re here.”
They swallowed hard, their eyes flicking around the men standing there, then back to Devil. “I... I didn’t mean for things to go this far,” Barbie stammered, her voice shaking. “I didn’t know what James was going to do. I thought—”
“You didn’t know?” I cut in; my voice was sharp as a blade. “You didn’t know he was going to kidnap her? Fucking try to kill her?”
She flinched with fear at the fury in my voice, but I didn’t care. The image of Fiona, broken and bruised, was still burned into my mind, and the fact that both bitches had played a part in that made me itch to kill them. At this moment, I didn’t give a fuck that they were women.
“I swear I didn’t!” Barbie argued, tears starting down her face. “He said he loved her!”
“You think we’re goin’ to buy that?” I growled, stepping toward her. “You sold her out, Barbie. You gave that psycho the information he needed, and you did it for money. Don’t stand there and pretend you didn’t know what you were doin’.”
Her eyes filled with fresh panic, but she was a damn fool if she thought I’d feel sympathy for her. Fuck her.
“I... I didn’t think it would go that far,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “It’s just... It wasn’t about money.”
“Then why the fuck would you do that to my baby girl, you bitch!?” Horse bellowed so loud even the men in the room flinched.
“Because she stole Josie from me!” Barbie cried, tears making rivers down her cheeks. “The kitchen... that was mine and Josie’s place. Then she came along, and he replaced me like I never mattered. He cared for her. I could see it, and I was left out in the cold... I hated her for it!”
“You were fucking jealous?” Devil said, his voice filled with disbelief. “And you thought that was worth risking Fiona’s life? Worth betraying the club?”
Barbie didn’t answer, her shoulders shaking as the weight of her choices finally seemed to hit her. She had to know there was no coming back from this. Not with the club. We didn’t give second chances.
I took another step forward, my fists clenched at my sides. “Do you have any idea what he did to her? What could’ve happened if we hadn’t gotten there in time?”
“I’m sorry,” Barbie whispered, her voice cracking. “If I could take it back, I would.”
“It’s too fucking late for sorry,” I said, still itching to make her feel what Fiona did.
“How did Boots fit into all of this?” Devil asked, changing the subject because he knew I was close, so fucking close to hurting this bitch. I’d almost lost Fiona, and that was making me a man I never wanted to be.
“I saw him one day spying on Fiona, just watchin’ her real strange,” she began, her eyes darting to Horse before snapping back to Devil. “And so, I asked him what he was doing, and he said watchin’ out for Caroline.”
“What the fuck are you talkin’ about?” Horse snarled and Devil held his hand up and indicated she continue.
“I recognized the name because Boots always called the girls Caroline when we... well, anyway, I told James what I saw and he’s the one that realized Boots had a thing for Fiona’s mom. He figured out Boots thought Fiona was Caroline.”
“So, you took advantage of his confusion and mental state?” Devil asked, his eyes shooting a warning to Horse, who was angry and stunned. Boots had been his best friend.
“James couldn’t get past the new security patrols, so he forced me to make Boots think he needed to save his Caroline. I was afraid to tell him no,” she cried, trying for the pity card. “He threatened me.”
“Were you the rat talking to Fire Dragon?” Devil snarled, ignoring her excuses and moving on.
“No... no I never, why would you think that?” she mumbled, her eyes really showing fear now. “I swear I don’t know shit about any of that.”
Barbie’s tears were falling freely now, her body trembling as she realized there was no way out. Devil watched her for a long moment, the room silent as we waited for him to make the call. We didn’t beat women, let alone kill them, but she didn’t know that, and we would put the fear of God into her.
“You betrayed the club,” Devil said quietly, his voice like steel. “And you know what that means.”
Jenny, who had been quiet so far, shook her head, her eyes wide with fear. “Please... I didn’t mean to... Bolt never even fucked me that night... I—”
“You’ll pay just like Barbie. You not only drugged Bolt, but you knew about Barbie and had no plans to say shit,” Devil said, his cold eyes drilling into her. “That makes you just as guilty.”
“No... I—,”
“You don’t betray the club,” Devil said, cutting her off. “Ever.”
The weight of his words settled over the room like a death sentence. Jenny’s face crumpled, her legs giving out beneath her as she collapsed to the floor, sobbing. Barbie stood there frozen, like she was in shock.
“Take them outside,” Devil ordered, his voice steady, emotionless.
Chain and Thunder moved in, grabbing the women by the arms and hauling them to their feet. They didn’t fight, didn’t resist. They knew it was over.
We followed outside and watched as the men shoved both women to the ground and we pulled out our guns, cocking them. The women started whimpering and mumbling prayers and shit.
Devil went to the women and kneeled beside them, and said, “Here’s what’s going to happen. We’re going to play a game, something like a cat and a rat would. When I fire my gun, you run into the woods, and we chase. Now here’s where I’ll be generous, if we catch you, you die, but if you manage to escape, you live.”
“For real?” Barbie stammered.
Devil smirked. “For real, but here’s another catch, say you manage to escape. If we so much as set eyes on either of you again, we’ll fucking kill you, no questions asked.” He stood looking down at them. “So, make damn sure you keep runnin’.” And with that, he fired his gun. “Run, rats, run.”
The women didn’t wait for him to say it twice. They jumped to their feet and fled into the forest. Devil signaled for some of the men to chase and they took off after them. No, we wouldn’t actually catch them, but the point was to scare the living shit out of them, so they never showed their face in this state again.
Devil didn’t lie if we see those traitorous bitches again, we’ll kill them, women or not. They have their chance and they better take it.