8. Braxton #2
The man closest to Cash rears his fist back and punches my brother in the side of the face. I slam my head back and hear a crunching sound.
“He broke my fucking nose,” the asshole behind me bellows.
Doesn’t sound so excited now.
I struggle to break the zip ties. Just as I feel them snap, someone slams a bully stick behind my knees, and I crumple to the ground.
Before I can get back up, several boots begin slamming into me.
My back and ribs are taking the brunt of their vicious kicks as I do what I can to protect my head.
A boot connects with the back of my skull then the corner of my face, and I fight like hell to remain conscious.
“Let’s get out of here!” one of the men yells, and another bends down to look into my eyes. My vision swims, and his face goes in and out of focus.
“When you see Ozzy, ask him how it feels to get fucked over like he fucked over Sokolov.” The man smacks my cheek for good measure, and if I had the strength, I’d spit in his ugly fucking face.
He stands, and I hear the van door open and close before the rest of the men get in their vehicles and peel away, leaving me and my brother on the side of the road.
“Cash,” I croak out.
“Fuck,” is the only reply I get. “Who was that?”
“Sokolov’s men. You have your phone? Mine was in the van.”
“Yeah.”
I lift my head and see that he’s in as bad a shape as I am. When I manage to sit up, I look down the road and all three vehicles are long gone. The only thing I see is the bike lying on its side in the middle of the road, and Cash lying on his back.
“You okay, brother?”
“Yup. Just making out the animal shapes in the clouds,” he answers.
“Fuck, how hard did that guy hit you in the head?”
“Not too hard. But that bully club to the temple hurt like a fucking bitch.” Cash sits up and turns to the side, pulling his phone from his back pocket. He looks at the screen and shakes his head. “Screens busted. Fuck, I did not want to have to buy a new phone this week.”
“I think that’s the least of our problems,” I tell him. “Does it work?”
Cash presses a few buttons, then puts the device to his ear.
“Ozzy. We got fucking jacked.” He’s silent for a few moments.
“Some of Sokolov’s men pretended to be cops and pulled us over.
Beat the shit out of us and took the van.
” Cash winces, pulling the phone away from his ear.
I can hear Ozzy’s angry string of cuss words from here.
“Alright, yeah. No, we don’t need a fucking ambulance. See you.”
Cash disconnects the call. With each passing second, I feel as though I’m coming back to myself. Which also means my ribs and head make themselves known in the most painful way possible.
“Ozzy is sending Wyatt and Jude. They were in Ayre shopping with the girls. They’ll be here soon.”
“What about the van?”
“It was one of Liam’s. There’s a tracker on it, so Ozzy’s going to get the location.”
“And the bike?” I ask, looking at the restoration I was just about done with. How the hell am I going to explain this one?
“That’s going to be a shit ton of free labor,” Cash replies.
I give him a flat look through my swollen eye. “No shit.”
A pained groan rushes out of me as I lift myself onto unsteady feet. “Fuck, those assholes did a fucking number on us. I should have known it was bullshit when they used zip ties instead of cuffs.”
“Thank fuck they did; otherwise we’d be really fucked out here.”
When they pulled us over, it was off on a deserted road from the main highway.
Cash groans, letting out a few choice words as he attempts to stand.
I reach out my hand to help him, and he takes it.
The muscles it takes to haul this big-ass son of a bitch from the ground scream at me, and Cash doesn’t look like he’s faring much better.
Both of us stare at the bike in the middle of the road.
“We should move this out of the way. We don’t need someone calling the cops if they see two men beat to shit and a fucked-up bike in the middle of the road,” Cash says.
I bend over and grab the twisted handlebars as Cask grabs the dented fender.
We straighten the motorcycle and roll it off the road between a couple large oaks, both of us breathing hard through the pain.
Slowly, Cash and I lower ourselves to the ground and lean our backs against one of the tree trunks.
“You look like shit,” he says to me, and I bark out a laugh.
“Fuck you, asshole. There’s no way you look any better.”
We’re silent for a few minutes, and my eyes are closed with my head resting against the tree as I take inventory of all the aches and pains in my body.
“We’re fucking lucky they didn’t decide to shoot us in the head and be done with it,” Cash says.
“Nah. Sokolov likes to play with his food. Probably why they haven’t attacked us outright. He probably gets off on doing some fucked-up damage to one or two of us at a time. Now he knows Ozzy is going to be pissed as hell and the asswipe is most likely squealing with delight.”
Cash is silent for a few minutes as the wheels in his brain turn just like mine are. “You think we have a rat?”
I nod. “Sure sounds like it. I don’t know how else Sokolov would have gotten whatever tip they were talking about.”
As far as I know, never in the history of the Black Roses has there been a rat. It makes me sick to my stomach that we could have one now.
“Could be someone on the Monaghan crew,” Cash offers.
I consider his point. “Could be.”
We return to silence, both of us lost in our own thoughts when Wyatt’s truck pulls up and he parks along the side of the road. He and Jude hop out of the cab and make their way over to us.
“You two look like shite,” Jude comments, standing in front of us.
“Fuck you,” Cash says as I flip the English asshole off.
“Where are the girls?” I ask.
“Charlie is picking them up from the baby store,” Jude says. “Let’s get this bike in the truck and you two back to Shine.”
Thankfully, Jude and Wyatt handle getting the motorcycle into the truck bed as Cash and I settle in the back seat.
When everyone is in the cab, Jude’s phone dings with a text.
“Looks like Ozzy has a location.” He turns and lifts his eyebrow, gauging me and Cash’s response to the news.
“Let’s fucking go,” I grit out. The idea that those fuckers are going to be met with the rage of the Black Roses has my blood viciously boiling instantly.
Hell, I barely even feel anything other than red-hot anger and adrenaline as the idea of shooting those motherfuckers in the head runs through my mind on a loop.
Jude smiles. “I had a feeling you’d say that.”
We get back on the highway and head toward the exit that we need to take to where the van is.
“Ozzy said to wait for him here. He wants all of us to go in at once. We may not get to Sokolov today, but hopefully we can pick up one of his lackeys and get some fucking answers,” Wyatt says.
“Oh goody,” Jude says with a disturbing grin stretched across his face. “It’s been far too long since I’ve practiced my fillet skills.”
“There’s something seriously wrong with you,” Cash tells our slightly deranged brother.
Naturally, Jude’s answer is nothing more than his smile widening with the idea of spilling those assholes’ blood.
It takes another twenty minutes for the roar of my brother’s motorcycle engines to reach my ears.
“Cavalry’s here,” Wyatt says and opens his door, stepping out of the vehicle.
Ozzy is the first to dismount, and he walks over to the truck as Cash and I step out.
“Those fucking assholes,” he grits out through a clenched jaw when he takes in our appearance. “You sure you’re up for this? You can always take Wyatt’s truck back to Shine.”
“How would we get home?” Jude asks.
“You can ride with me,” Linc says with a wide grin.
“Fuck you,” Jude shoots back, rolling his eyes.
“We aren’t going back to Shine without that fucking van and hopefully a couple dead Russians stuffed in the back,” I tell my prez.
Ozzy nods once, the decision final. “Alright. Follow me.”
Knox and Ozzy ride in the front of the truck down the old road while Linc and Barrett stay behind us. Ozzy leads our group to what looks like an abandoned gas station with a large, dilapidated shop behind the ancient gas pumps that most likely haven’t worked for at least a decade.
We park under the awning that looks like it could collapse at any minute, and Wyatt reaches under his dash, pulling out a gun. Linc walks to Jude’s side, and when he opens the door, Linc hands him a weapon.
Cash and I step out of the truck, and Knox heads over to me with a gun in his hand as Barrett hands one to Cash.
“There’s no use trying to be stealth. They would have heard our bikes,” Ozzy says.