Chapter 9
CHAPTER NINE
GRANITE
As soon as the door slammed shut behind me and I heard the click of the lock, I pulled my phone out and dialed. Ink answered on the second ring.
“Yo, boss man.”
“You have the kid-beater?”
“Yup.”
“He still breathing?”
“Yeah. Why?”
I rushed down the stairs. “I’m on my way.” I hung up and saw Onyx waiting for me at the exit from the bar.
“Want to tell me what the fuck that was?”
“No.” I brushed past him.
“Where are you going?”
“Same place you are.”
We walked out the front door of the bar.
“And where’s that?”
“The warehouse. We’re meeting up with Ink and Manic.”
Onyx didn’t question me further. Good thing too. The blood in my veins was fucking singing with the need to fuck shit up. Anger scratched against my chest, wanting out—like a contained demon ravenous for something to ruin.
Alyx pushed me. She pushed me too far, and I had to show her who was in control.
I knew she had an inner strength everyone underestimated.
I just couldn’t allow her to think she could use that strength against me.
So I lost my shit—which ended up being a good thing because she needed to be afraid of me.
If she wasn’t, this entire plan would get shot to shit.
The success of our entire plan depended on her fear of us… of me.
Getting on my Harley Road King, I put on my lid and started the ignition. I needed to get the fuck away from this place. Away from her.
I wasn’t a guy for speed. It was about the cruise, the open road, the fresh air.
The sound of the engine, feeling the power vibrate between your legs.
God, it sounded like a porn movie. For me, it probably was.
Nothing got my blood flowing like a good run.
But this wasn’t a run. This wasn’t a goddamn cruise.
I wanted to get rid of the rage that seared my veins, and it made me impatient.
I sped down the streets, cutting corners and hauling ass. Onyx wasn’t far behind and probably enjoyed it. He and his V-Rod loved the speed and the adrenaline.
It took us about twenty minutes to get to the warehouse where Ink and Manic had the kid-beater.
“Something going down here?” Onyx took off his lid and got off his bike.
“Something’s going down here, all right. I’m about to break some bone.” I didn’t check to make sure Onyx was following. My fists were already balled, nails biting into my palms.
Manic came walking out as we approached the entrance. “Everything okay, man?”
“Yup.” I brushed past him. “Just want in on the action.”
Manic and Onyx flanked me as we walked inside, and I spotted Ink in the distance, leaning against the wall with a cigarette in his mouth.
The kid-beater was tied to a chair next to him, and I could hear his sobs all the way over here.
If it wasn’t for the pungent stench of dead rat and mold, I’d probably be smelling the fucker’s fear right about now.
“Typical.” I pulled my hair back. “The fucker can hurt kids but doesn’t have the balls to fight men his own size.”
“Um, Granite,” Manic started, “without stating the obvious, he ain’t exactly your size. None of us are. Except little bro, here. Ouch.”
I glanced over my shoulder and saw Onyx slap Manic on the head. “I’m not little bro, you feel me?”
A smile tugged at the edges of my mouth, but my adrenaline was already spiked, and not even some simple club banter would be able to get my rage under control. The only thing that would help was blood.
I plucked my knife out of my pocket and started flipping it in my hand, staring at the bastard tied to the chair. “I hear you like beating up kids.”
“No. No, that’s not true.”
“Oh. It’s not?”
“No. I don’t know what that boy is telling you, but it’s lies.”
I leisurely started to circle around him. “And the bruises on his face? Those lying too?”
The kid-beater spat out some blood, a busted lip telling me Ink had already gotten in a punch or two. “That kid has been getting into all sorts of trouble. Drugs. Weed. It’s probably a dealer or someone.”
I shrugged, still circling him. “Could be. But the thing is,” I stopped in front of him, “I have eyes and ears all over this goddamn town. Nothing happens on these streets without me knowing, especially when it comes to drugs.” I crouched down so I was eye level with this ugly mofo.
“I know for a fact the boy’s clean. The only dirty son of a bitch around here is you. ”
He tugged at the rope tied around his wrists, the chair screeching across the cement floors. “I didn’t touch the little bastard.”
I tossed the knife in the air, caught it, then jabbed it into the side of his calf with every goddamn ounce of strength I had. The blade sliced straight through his flesh, ripping his calf wide open.
He screamed. I laughed. Ink howled like a fucking animal. Crazy son of a bitch.
The more the kid-beater screamed, tears mixing with snot, dripping off his face, the more it started to sound like music to my ears.
“I’m sorry,” he wailed, his head hanging down as spit dripped from his mouth. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Oh, God,” he cried. Sobbed like the low-life piece of trash he was. “I’m fucking sorry. Please don’t do this. Please don’t do this.”
“Did you feel sorry for the boy when he begged you? When he asked you to stop?” Without blinking, I stabbed my knife through his foot, and I felt the blade crack through bone. The scream that came out of his mouth was deafening as it echoed through the empty warehouse.
Pain. It was there, in the sound of his scream. I felt it. Heard it. Fucking relished it.
“Granite.” Onyx stepped up next to me, leaning down. “Don’t lose your shit, man. He ain’t worth it.”
“But the boy is.”
“True. But we can’t afford the heat. If you kill this low-life, it will end up being another mess we need to clean up. And right now, that’s the last thing we need.”
His words were soft so no one else could hear, keeping the conversation close to our chests, because I was the president, and no one questioned the leader in front of others.
But Onyx was my brother, and that put us on an entirely different level.
We understood each other, respected each other, even if we didn’t always agree.
I glanced up, giving him a knowing look. My brother was right. We had to keep our heads down, stay out of trouble. At least for now.
Still crouched, I watched the blood pour from his leg, flesh and tissue hanging out. His leg was mutilated, the muscle destroyed. Yet I felt nothing. All I saw was that boy’s face, the bruises. Just like hers. Her face. Hurt and injured.
I held the bloody knife in my hand, rubbing my fingers up and down my beard. Just the sight of blood soothed me, calmed me, made me think clearer. Man, I was every fucking psychiatrist’s wet dream.
“Please, I won’t hurt him again. I promise.” The kid-beater cried some more, sweat dripping down the side of his face, his body shivering. “I swear to God, man. I won’t touch him again.”
I launched forward and grabbed his face in my hand, squeezing his cheeks.
“You’re damn right, you won’t. You will take your scrawny, sorry, little ass and leave town.
You will not come near the boy or his mom.
And if I so much as catch a whiff of your stinking ass in the neighborhood, I will cut you from nose to navel. You feel me?”
“Yes. Yes. Yes.” He let out a few sobs. “Yes. I promise.”
I let go of his face with a jerk, then motioned for Ink to come closer. “Get him to a hospital. And you make fucking sure he leaves town.”
Ink nodded. “You got it.”
I didn’t stick around. The urge to kill this man was too strong, and if I didn’t leave now, his life would end with my blade stuck in his heart.
Onyx left with me, flanking me as we rode down the streets. This time I was in no hurry, my thoughts a complete mess. Going in, I had every detail planned out.
It was never supposed to be this way. But that was the cruel reality of our world. Nothing ever worked out the way it was supposed to.
Not for us.
Not for me.