Chapter Nine #2
“No problem.” Knuckles held out a hand for the bag. “I’ll take care of it. Got an industrial incinerator.”
Blackheart shifted his weight backward, away from Knuckles. “You’ll understand if I prefer to get rid of it myself.” He smiled but looked more than a little uncomfortable.
“Open the bag, Blackheart,” Knuckles snapped.
His fingers tightened on the strap. “There seems to be a misunderstanding --”
“The only misunderstanding,” Knuckles cut in, “is you thinking we wouldn’t notice you leaving your room. Or, you know, breakin’ into my fuckin’ safe.” He smiled, all teeth, a shark circling the wounded in the water. “We’ve been watching you since the moment you stepped onto our property.”
Blackheart’s composure slipped for just an instant, a flicker of calculation crossing his features before his mask slid back into place. “I can explain.”
“I fuckin’ bet you can,” I snarled, my hands curling into fists at my sides. Every instinct screamed at me to launch myself at this piece of shit, to beat him until there was nothing left of that smug face. But I held back, wanting to hear what lies he’d spin.
“Open the bag,” Knuckles repeated, his tone making it clear it wasn’t a request.
With reluctance, Blackheart unzipped the duffel, revealing the stacks of cash he’d taken from the safe. “This isn’t what it looks like.”
“Looks like you emptied out the safe,” Griffin said, moving closer. “Stealing from the men who gave you shelter. Men who only let you stay because of your daughter.”
At the mention of Ellie, something shifted in Blackheart’s expression. A calculation. Yeah. He’d just made a decision that was going to seal his fate.
“Elvira knew exactly what I was doing,” he said, his voice taking on a wounded tone that sounded rehearsed. “She gave me the combination to the safe. This was our plan all along.”
The accusation hit me like a physical blow. Even knowing he was going there, for a split second the world went dark around the edges, blood roaring in my ears. Then white-hot rage exploded through me, obliterating thought and reason.
“You lyin’ motherfucker!” I lunged forward, fists clenched, face contorted with murderous fury.
I wanted nothing more than to wrap my hands around his throat and squeeze until the light left his eyes.
This man, who had already hurt Ellie in ways that would take years to heal, had now tried to use her as his shield.
But before I could reach him, Knuckles intercepted me with surprising speed, catching me around the waist and hauling me backward.
I fought against his grip, muscles straining as I tried to break free, my gaze never once leaving Blackheart’s.
And yeah. The man really wished he could change his life choices.
“I’ll fucking kill you!” I roared, struggling against Knuckles’ iron hold. “You piece of shit! You’d throw your own daughter under the bus? After everything you’ve already done to her?”
“Chains!” Knuckles barked, tightening his grip. “Stand down!”
“I’m gonna kill that motherfucker!” I continued to fight, my vision tunneled to Blackheart’s face. The smug fucker actually looked pleased at my reaction, like he thought he’d won something by getting under my skin.
“She’s been working with me from the start,” Blackheart continued, his voice taking on a sorrowful tone that made me want to rip his tongue out.
“Poor Elvira. Always so desperate for Daddy’s approval.
When I contacted her about needing money, she jumped at the chance to help.
Said this motorcycle club had plenty to spare and wouldn’t miss it. ”
“Shut your fucking mouth,” I snarled, still straining against Knuckles’ hold. “No one here believes that shit.”
“Don’t you?” Blackheart raised an eyebrow, glancing around at the others. “Ask yourselves how a girl like Elvira ended up here, among men like you. She’s playing a role, gentlemen. The sweet, innocent victim with her Halloween obsession and her black cats. It’s all part of the act.”
Tiny took a menacing step forward, his massive frame seeming to grow even larger with rage. “You talk about your daughter like that again, and I’ll rip your arms off and beat you with them.”
Griffin moved closer too, his face hard with disgust. “We knew you’d try something. Though, why you’d pick a motorcycle club full of ex-cons to target is beyond me.”
Knuckles snorted. “He thought we were stupid.”
Griffin’s gaze snapped to Knuckles. “Wait. Now, what?”
“He thought we were nothing but gear-head thugs and that he could get one over on us.”
“You’d think you’d’ve learned a thing or two in prison,” Tiny rumbled.
“The men who hold the keys to the yard ain’t stupid.
Knuckles is our president and the shot caller for some big names in the city.
You might have been a surgeon in another life, but you’re a dismal failure in this life.
And not nearly smart enough to go up against someone like Knuckles. ”
“The only reason you’re still breathing,” Knuckles said, still holding me back, “is because we’re waiting for instructions on what to do with you.”
Blackheart’s eyes narrowed at that, a flicker of genuine fear finally showing through his composed facade. “Instructions? From whom?”
I had stopped struggling but my fury still made me heave for breath. The satisfaction of seeing real fear on his face gave me a moment of vicious pleasure.
“You’ll find out soon enough,” Knuckles promised.
“You’re making a mistake,” Blackheart insisted, his gaze darting between us. “Elvira will tell you herself. Ask her. She’ll admit everything.”
“That’s enough,” Griffin snapped, stepping forward to grab the duffel bag from Blackheart’s hands. “No one’s buying what you’re selling.”
Blackheart allowed the bag to be taken, his lips curving in a small, calculating smile. “You seem very certain of my daughter’s loyalty. Interesting.”
“One more word about Ellie,” I warned, my voice dropping to a deadly whisper, “and Knuckles and Tiny together won’t be able to hold me back.”
“Should Chains wake her up and bring her down here?” Tiny asked, glancing at Knuckles. “Let her see what Daddy dearest is really up to?”
Knuckles shook his head. “No. She doesn’t need to see this.” He gripped my shoulder, a reminder to hold my temper. “But she deserves to know. I’m sure you’ll figure out how to soften the blow, Chains.”
I nodded, the red haze of rage beginning to recede just enough for rational thought to seep back in. Ellie would be devastated. I’d tell her. Just not right now. She needed to let her heart heal before we discussed this.
“You can’t keep me here,” Blackheart said, his composure slipping further as he seemed to realize the gravity of his situation. “I have rights.”
Knuckles laughed, a cold sound utterly devoid of humor. “Rights? You gave up any rights when you broke into my office and stole from us. But don’t worry. We’re not going to kill you.”
“Not yet, anyway,” I added, flexing my hands, already imagining how good it would feel to wrap them around his throat.
Blackheart swallowed visibly, the first sign of genuine fear breaking through his facade. “What are you going to do with me?”
Knuckles smiled, and it was the smile of a predator who had cornered his prey. “We’re going to have a little chat. About who you are, what you did, and who’s interested in finding you. Because, I promise, this is something you really want to know.”
Knuckles pulled out his phone, checking a message before nodding to Griffin.
My breathing was still ragged, my hands aching from how tightly I’d clenched my fists.
But the red haze was clearing from my vision, replaced by a cold, calculating fury that I knew I wouldn’t get to satisfy. Not the way I wanted to.
Knuckles grinned at Blackheart. When he spoke, Knuckles’ voice was eerily calm. “The doctor who got caught, did his time, and now deserves a second chance.” He took a step closer to Tate, who instinctively backed up until he hit the wall. “Unfortunately, you touched some lives better left alone.”
Blackheart’s jaw tightened, but he maintained his composure. “That’s all ancient history. I served my time.”
“Did you?” Knuckles tilted his head. “Because the way I hear it, you only served time for what they could prove. The organ trafficking ring, the kickbacks, the falsified medical records.” He paused, watching Blackheart’s face. “But that wasn’t all, was it?”
Something flickered in Blackheart’s eyes, the first genuine emotion I’d seen there. Fear.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, but his voice lacked the smooth confidence from before.
“What got you caught were the ten-year-olds you harvested organs from while they were still alive and were expected to make a full recovery. The two hundred fifty thousand dollars you got for each kid’s heart when you sold it to dark web clients didn’t help either,” Knuckles stated with deadly calm.
Blackheart’s face drained of color. “That’s a lie. That was never proven.”
“Because you rolled on everyone else before they could dig deeper,” Knuckles continued. “You gave them your associates, your nurses, your contacts. Everyone who knew anything about the operation. But there were things only you knew. Things that never made it into the official record.”
I watched as sweat beaded on Blackheart’s forehead. Knuckles was hitting home, landing blows with surgical precision. This was a different kind of destruction, and Knuckles was a master at it.
“The parents of those children never got justice,” Knuckles said, his voice dropping lower. “Because officially, their kids died from surgical complications. But we know better. Don’t we, Doctor?”
“You can’t prove any of this,” Blackheart said, his voice strained. “It’s all hearsay and rumors.”