Chapter 35
Hank
Itake one last look over my shoulder. My eyes locked on the door that Vee disappeared through. I should be there with her making sure she’s okay. But instead, I’m not..
All I can think about is her. How she looked so small and fragile in Doc’s arms, like a porcelain doll.
I can still see her head resting against his shoulder, her dark red hair hanging like a curtain concealing her face.
I should be the one making sure she’s breathing, not Doc or Luke.
Me. I should be the one making sure nobody touches her again, making sure she knows that she’s safe.
But Earl gave the order. And in this club, the president’s word isn’t a suggestion; it’s law.
If I disobey him, I don’t even want to think what the consequences would be.
“Hank! Get the fuck over here!” Luca’s voice thunders through the air, and my eyes drift from the clubhouse door to where he stands.
“Comin’,” I bark back, a scowl on my face. Anger boils inside me, and if one person so much as says the wrong thing, I swear I’m going to erupt like a volcano.
I let out a heavy sigh. If I can’t be with Vee, then I can make sure the bastards who hurt her pay.
I stalk toward the car just as the trunk pops open. Two of the Satan’s Rejects prospects are already there, one of them grabbing one fucker inside by the ankles and the other Reject takes hold of his arms, hoisting him out of the trunk and dropping him onto the ground.
I glare down at him. He has a hood over his head, and his hands and feet are bound together with rope. When I look into the trunk, I see the other guy looks the same way.
The Rejects turn back to the car and drag the other body out of the trunk, immediately dropping him on the ground beside the first. I take advantage of the opportunity and give the one closest to me a swift kick in the gut with my boot.
The fucker grunts and we all laugh. Luca and the two prospects join in on giving each of the men a kick.
While the prospects go for their stomachs just like me, Luca aims for their heads.
Kind of wish I would’ve thought about doing that.
It’s like the lights click on for the two men, because they choose that moment to start struggling to break free from their restraints, their muffled grunts echoing around us.
With the hoods covering their faces, I don’t know who is who.
Not that it would matter, anyway. They’re both dead men walking.
Or laying rather. They’ll never see the light of day again.
“Let’s get these fuckers inside,” Luca says coldly. “Hank, lead the way.”
Each of the prospects from Luca’s club grabs hold of one of the men’s legs and drags them toward the clubhouse doors.
I can’t help but smile knowing the gravel from the lot is cutting into them or that their backs are scraping against the ground and hopefully bleeding.
The one being held by the prospect sporting beard that would make the band ZZ Top jealous, jerks his leg and tries to break free but fails. God, my old man loved that group.
We don’t make it far before I hear crying coming from one of them. Maybe both, with how loud the noise is. Pathetic. If you’re man enough to kidnap someone, then be man enough to take the punishment when you’re caught.
Stepping into the building, I see some of the brothers have already started drinking.
Club girls are kneeling at their feet, sucking their cocks, or straddling their laps while being fucked.
But this is not where I want to be. What I want is to kill these two fuckers, then find Vee.
I need to make sure she’s okay. See her with my own eyes.
“Which way?” Luca asks, when I stop, glancing down the hallway where I know Vee is.
“This way. I can show you, then go check on Ve—”
“The fuck you are. You’re staying with me and away from my sister. You’ve hurt her enough,” Luca growls.
I grit my teeth, holding back the anger that is boiling inside of me. Punching out Vee’s brother wouldn’t be the best thing to do right now. So, I suck it up and point in the direction of our basement. Without saying a word, I head that way, and hear them fall in step behind me.
The basement door lets out a groaning sound when I open it, and we haul them down the concrete stairs. The air down here is cold and damp, smelling like rust, old blood, and motor oil. An MC man’s wet dream.
Chains hang from the ceiling beams with metal cuffs attached at the bottom. There’s a set of three. But today we only need two. We’ve used this room a lot. It’s always a bloody mess when we’re done, and the prospects are left to clean it up and haul the dead bodies to Cassie’s farm to dispose of.
“Hook them up there,” I tell the prospects, gesturing toward the chains.
They waste no time dragging them over and making sure their wrists are restrained in the cuffs. It takes both Rejects to chain one of them up, so the other lies on the floor, his body flopping around like a dead fish.
Once they’re both chained up, they thrash around as best they can with their feet still bound together. Their muffled screams grow louder through the hood covering their heads.
“Strip ’em,” Luca orders.
Knives appear in the prospects’ hands before I even have a chance to see where they came from.
They each take a body and begin cutting through their jeans, not caring if they nick their flesh.
It’s not like we’re concerned about an infection or them bleeding to death.
The prospects don’t untie the ropes around their feet.
Instead, they use the knives to cut through their jeans and shirts, leaving their underwear for last. All of their clothing is stripped from them, piece by piece, until they are naked, their pale skin goose-pimpled from the cold.
They’re dying after we take our revenge on them for daring to touch my girl. My girl? Where the fuck did that come from? She’s not my girl. She’s Luke’s and Doc’s woman. She’s not mine anymore.
I shake off the thought, and focus my attention back on the two men currently hanging from the ceiling.
Luca walks forward slowly, like a velociraptor moving toward its prey; each movement as if it were in slow motion until he’s standing before them. He doesn’t say anything at first. Just stands in front of them, his furious gaze locked on them.
He reaches up and yanks the first hood off the man to his left. The son.
The hood comes off the father next
Both of them look around wildly, eyes huge when they see the bikers watching them and the visual truth of their current predicament.
It must click for them that this isn’t going to end well.
Knowing who the older man is, he should’ve known his actions affect not one, but both of the MC’s in town, who are no longer enemies, but allies, thanks to Luca taking over and his connection to Vee.
I have no doubt if she wasn’t in the picture, there would be no unity between the two clubs.
“Let us fucking go!” the older man shouts, spit spewing from his mouth, as I raise both of them up.
Luca smirks.
“You wouldn’t dare do this to me if your father were still alive,” he shoots back.
“That’s an opinion. But it doesn’t matter ‘cause he ain’t.”
Luca pulls a lighter out of his pocket and flicks the flame on and off as he steps toward the father and holds it to his flesh. Letting the edge of the flame warm the skin before moving to another spot on his body. I watch the man grimace, but he doesn’t scream.
“You boys touched someone that wasn’t yours,” he says softly.
The old man rolls his eyes, as if responding to him is beneath him.
“Please…please, man. Let me go. My dad wanted her, not me.”
Luca turns around to face me and the two prospects.
“You hear that, boys? This prick doesn’t know what family loyalty is. He’s ready to sell his father out. Blame it all on him as if he had no part in it.” He gives a dark, soul-chilling laugh.
“I didn’t,” he whines.
“Shut the fuck up, son. You’re being a damn pussy. These boys think they’re tough ‘cause we can’t defend ourselves chained up.”
“You didn’t do much defending yourself when you could, if I recall,” Luca taunts them. “That one,” he gestures toward the son, “couldn’t even shoot straight. But at least he came charging toward the danger. You hid.”
“Fuck off. You don’t know shit,” the father snaps back as the son continues to cry and beg to be let go.
“I was merely giving you a chance to apologize for your actions,” Luca starts before the son speaks up again.
“I’m sorry, man. I promise I won’t touch her again.”
Luca turns slightly.
“Brothers… socks. Hank, do you have any gloves?”
“We do.” I step over to the counter that holds all our tools when he speaks again.
“And some duct tape.”
The prospects snort as they yank off their boots. Dirty socks get peeled off one by one. I don’t even try to hide my laughter, but then I hear a familiar sound. Something unzipping. I’ve barely picked up the items Luca wanted and turned back around, when I see them pissing on the socks.
It must click with the son about what's going to happen, and he starts screaming like a fucking bitch. It’s so loud that it echoes through the room.
“Give the gloves and tape to the prospects. It’s time these two learn what it’s like to have socks crammed in their mouths like my sister did.”
“NOOOOO!” the son yells. “I didn’t piss on them.”
“So it was you?” Luca asks, an evil glint in his eyes. I raise my eyebrow in confusion. Did they put pissy socks in Vee’s mouth?
He starts shaking his head vehemently, but it’s too late.
“Make sure to add extra piss on his,” Luca orders not taking his eyes off the man in front of him.
One of the prospects takes the gloves as the other takes the tape, and they zip their pants back up. Once he has the gloves donned, he bends over to pick up the socks.
“Do the son first,” I order.
The prospect gives me a smile and chuckles under his breath.
Once he has the offending objects in hand, they head toward the son.
The man clenches his mouth shut and tries to pull his head away until the larger of the prospects steps behind him and holds his head still.
The one in front takes hold of his face, gripping his cheeks, forcing his mouth open enough to cram the sock inside, until his muffled gagging and choking fills the basement.
Then a strip of tape is placed over his mouth to ensure it stays safely in place.
The son gags behind the taped obstruction, twisting and turning, but it doesn’t do him any good.
The prospects quickly move to the father, who doesn’t even fight. He opens his mouth, eyes stone-cold, as he takes the foul piece of fabric into his mouth.
“A little worse than what you did to Vee,” Luca says casually as his eyes go hard. “But we don’t fucking care.”
Then he slams his fist into the son’s face, knocking his head backward. But he doesn’t stop there; he punches him in the ribs, kidneys, and then right in his groin.
The father gets his turn too. He jams his fingers straight into the gunshot wound in his stomach, twisting his finger, as he shoves it in deeper. The fucker screams around the sock.
“Oh, I can’t wait to have fun killing both of you. But not until I make sure my sister doesn’t want her own ounce of revenge on you.”
Luca pulls out his phone and starts typing. I know who he’s texting. My chest tightens as I step closer to him.
“Is she okay?” I ask.
No answer.
My hands clench into fists.
“Luca, is she okay?” He keeps typing, ignoring me completely. “Luca.” I call his name again, sharper this time. He glances at me. His expression is flat.
“No.” My stomach drops. My hopes that they didn’t have enough time to cause too much damage to her evaporate, as he speaks again. “You don’t get to know.” The words hit like a punch in the gut. He finally looks up from his phone and acknowledges me.
“We’re leaving them here for now. Hank, you get to stay here and be their personal guard, until you’re relieved.”
“What? But—” Who the hell does Luca think he is? He’s not going to keep me from talking to Vee. From seeing her.
“Orders from your Pres. Or they will be, as soon as I go up and talk to him.”
Luca and his prospects leave the room, and I take hold of a chair and fling it across the room, sending it crashing into the wall.
He may have me by the balls right now, but he’s not going to keep me from seeing Vee.