Chapter SixReeseAinsley
At the top of my bucket list was separating Roman Mac’s head from his fucking body. It topped my wish list, my to-do list, and any other fucking list I missed.
I loathed him. Before he murdered Trinity, it was just a general hatred because he was a Bloody Scorpion. The war between our clubs began long before I patched in and would ride on long after I bit it. I wasn’t sure of the actual origins. It just was, like birds flying free and shit traveling through a sewer.
The pit was comprised of three rooms and a bathroom. The biggest served as a shelter, the smallest as a prison. But I walked into the square one, smack in the middle of the other two, its four concrete walls equal in length and width on all sides. It was cold and stark, with a bright light when we wanted to see our enemy. Like now.
Roman sat on the lone chair in the room. He was chained and bloody, one eye almost completely shut. His nose was bruised and misshapen and he had a hole in his shoulder that looked as if it was on its way to an infection.
He lifted his head. His brown eyes burned with the same hatred embedded in me.
The heavy door opened and Louisiana walked in, carrying a phone.
“Warrior says the things been ringing constantly. It’s his sister.” He looked at me with meaning. “She’s called him about ten times, Reese.”
Snatching the phone, I walked to Roman. His hair was long. He liked to wear it in a ponytail. At the moment, it was grimy and coated with blood.
“I’m going to redial her and I want you to tell her everything’s fine.”
Roman spat a stream of blood. “Fuck you.”
I leaned into his face and grinned. “This is how it will be, motherfucker. Call your sister or I’m sending someone to get her and throw her ass in here with you.” Never would happen. “Then, maybe, we can enjoy the fucking show as my brothers take turns in her pussy.” They’d die. “So what’s it going to be?”
He met my gaze again. “I’ll do it on one condition.”
“Don’t think you’re in a fucking position to set conditions,” I sneered. Motherfucker had a lot of nerve.
“Just don’t tell her where I’m at,” he said, ignoring me. “And you can cleave my head in two if you promise not to send any part of me to her.”
“Cleave your head in two?” I pretended his request didn’t affect me. I pretended I could still kill him and leave Ainsley all alone. She’d probably marry Dayton Morgan. “That’s creative.”
“It’s what I’d do to you if the roles were reversed,” he said without flinching.
I grinned without humor. I still didn’t know how Warrior had gotten the jump on him. The phone started ringing again and the song registered.
“I’ll talk to her,” he said.
Swallowing, I answered and clicked on the speakerphone.
“Hey, Ains.”
A moment ago, he’d sounded as if he was in unbearable pain. Somehow, he got the strength to affect a normal tone.
“Where are you, Roman?”
“Once I dropped Kylie off, I remembered some club business.”
“Are you stopping at my apartment before you head home?”
I hated hearing her fear and sadness. Ainsley was smart. She knew something was up.
Roman swallowed. “Don’t think I can tonight, sweetheart.”
“Is it true about Dayton?”
Sighing, Roman shifted and the chains jingled, but either Ainsley didn’t hear or she ignored the sound. “Yes, I fucked up Dayton, Ainsley. You should’ve told me what that motherfucker did to you. He’s lucky I found out so far from home.”
I straightened, wanting details, but Ainsley’s sob threw me for a loop.
“He’s a city councilman’s son. You’ll go to jail and leave me all alone.”
Roman tipped his head back. “You’re a survivor. You don’t need me.”
“I do! Everyone needs someone. I love you. You’re an overbearing jackass, but I love you so much.”
His grin made him wince and blood seep from the cut. “I love you too, Ainsley. Stop crying. Everything’s going to be fine. Why the fuck are you so emotional? You’ve cried more these last two days than you have at any time except when Mom and Dad were killed.” He deflated and the energy he’d found seemed to leave him. “Let me talk to Nova.”
“She left, and the next time I see that bitch I’m throwing hands, Ro. She punched me because we had a disagreement.”
Roman jerked against his chains. “She did what ?” he demanded, having much the same reaction as me.
“Where are you, Roman?” Ainsley demanded hoarsely. “Why do I keep hearing chains? And just because Dayton wanted me to practice blowing him for when we’re married doesn’t mean he had to die.”
My growl matched Roman’s.
“That motherfucker did more than that.” He strained against his chains again.
More? What the fuck did he mean more ?
“Oh my god, asshole! Did you torture the information from him? Why would you do that and risk jail?”
Glancing away, I smiled. No matter her mood, Ainsley loved to talk.
“It doesn’t matter, Ainsley. I took care of it.”
“Yeah, well, if Kylie doesn’t shut the fuck up she’s going to get you sent to jail forever.”
“That’s the least of my fucking problems at the moment.”
“Are you in trouble?” she whispered.
He swallowed, glanced away, and dropped his head. “I love you, sweetheart. Always remember that.”
“No, God, no! Let me talk to them,” she said wildly, truly hysterical now. “Please, please, please.”
“Ainsley, sweetheart, listen to me.”
I don’t think I ever saw so much regret on a man’s face. It was the look of someone who knew the end was near and would extinguish life yet to live and loved ones left behind.
Somehow, he calmed her enough to make her hear him. My insides were roiling and my hands were shaking. I almost wished Warrior had taken Roman Mac out himself instead of doing me the favor of bringing him to me to avenge Trinity.
“I have to go, Ainsley.”
He nodded to me to disconnect. The call ended with her screams. I wanted to redial the number, but I wouldn’t, and I couldn’t call her later. Not only had I blocked her, I’d deleted her number before I had a chance to memorize it. Eventually, I would’ve caved, if only to demand answers. I’d thought it best to have no way of contacting her. Ainsley was an entanglement I didn’t fucking need. Now, I regretted my haste. I could always ask Louisiana for her number, but pride would prevent me from doing that.
“Just get it done, Sinclair,” Roman ordered.
It made sense that he knew my name. We were enemies. It was best to know everything about them.
“Your sister’s name is Valois, huh?” Louisiana asked from behind me. “Why the different names?”
Roman turned his head. He didn’t intend to answer any more questions, especially about Ainsley. I could demand answers, but it would do no good. He was as good as dead anyway. Why give up information about his little sister?
He finally gave into the darkness calling to him and his eyes slipped closed, his chin tipping to his chest. He was even more helpless than before. Killing him would be a breeze.
Except…
I sighed.
“I take it you’ve had a change of heart,” Louisiana guessed.
Roman was an enforcer in the club. Icing him would be a huge blow to their morale.
“What if he was the one who killed my brother, Reese?”
Louisiana was right. I couldn’t let a piece of ass sway me. I had a job to do. Top of that list was killing any and all Bloody Scorpions I ran across.
I unholstered the gun at my side and pressed it to Roman’s head. Ainsley’s screams rose in my head. I put my finger on the trigger, and…couldn’t do it. Just like when I’d thought about shooting Ainsley. Then, I hadn’t been able to extinguish her life when she’d looked so innocent and gorgeous. Now, I couldn’t take away her only family. Maybe that made me a traitor to my brothers. I didn’t know.
One less Scorpion meant one less threat to us. Yet, even with that, I returned my gun to the holster.
“You fucking asshole.”
I refrained from pointing out that it was his fucking games that put me in Ainsley’s path. “If you don’t want to help me, then leave. Either way, shut the fuck up.”
“How the fuck do you plan on getting this motherfucker out? Any of our brothers will do the job you don’t have the balls to do.”
Thinking fast, I removed my serrated tactical knife from my boot and lifted one of Roman’s hands. I’m sure the motherfucker would prefer to lose his hands if it meant returning to Ainsley. Putting him out of commission wouldn’t only make him useless but could save his miserable life. Turning him into an invalid was a fate worse than death. As far as the Bloody Scorpions were concerned, being disabled made you a fucking burden to your club. Burdens were dealt with via bullets, so chances were, he wouldn’t be on this Earth much longer, regardless of if he survived his impromptu amputation.
It was a win/win for me. My enemy would be dead, and Ainsley couldn’t blame me for killing her beloved brother. On the off chance, he made it, my guess—hope—was that he’d retire and live the rest of his life protecting Ainsley.
Some would argue—likely the entire membership—that killing him was the only answer. Assuming Roman survived, he could always get prosthetics and learn to shoot a gun, but I’d cross that bridge when I got to it.
The chances of him living that long were slim.
When I finally got his chains out of the way, I brought the blade down. It took two hard swings to chop off his left hand, the knife slicing through muscle, tendon, and bone with ease.The squirting blood indicated his heart continued to pump.
For how much longer, I couldn’t say, and I didn’t particularly care.
I took a moment to relish the feeling of his blood on my skin, imagining what it would feel like for his brain to be splattered everywhere. If Ainsley wasn’t in the picture, I’d likely be disgusted at having his DNA tainting my skin but feel unmatched satisfaction. I’d celebrate his death by drinking and fucking, once Roman’s body was chopped into tiny pieces.
Alas, Ainsley had ruined me for Roman’s retribution, and doing something so vicious to her brother would make me feel guilty. Having a conscience could be so bothersome, especially when it made me feel bad for my enemy’s sister. So much so, that I decided to spare the fucker.
Pussy made a man do stupid things.
“Wrap his hands.” I wiped off my blade, then returned the knife to my boot. “I’ll be back.”
“What the fuck are you doing?”
I dangled Roman’s severed hands. “Saving Ainsley’s brother.”
The trek from the pit seemed longer than normal. Razor had talked about installing cameras and microphones in the torture chamber so we could watch our prey as they wrestled with the last hours of their lives. I’d had motherfuckers beg me to spare them. Offers to pay me. Offers to suck my cock. My toes. My fingers. A man lost all fucking dignity when he fell into his enemy’s hands.
Warrior spotted me first and whooped, which started everyone else’s cheers. Congrats were thrown my way. Roman Mac was fucking notorious. He took no prisoners and showed no mercy.
I hoped like fuck I wasn’t making a mistake.
“I need a body bag,” I announced after I downed the glass of rum Warrior handed me.
Razor pushed his way through the guys. Motherfucker was sixty if he was a day, but he wore it well with thick salt-and-pepper hair that matched his thick salt-and-pepper eyebrows.
“We don’t transport body parts,” Razor said in his gravelly voice.
Holding up Roman’s hands, I nodded. “We don’t, Prez,” I said easily. “But he has a sister. He’s her only family. Figured we could bring her his body and let her give him a proper burial.”
By the time I carried him through the clubhouse, he’d already be in the body bag. I’d cut holes near his mouth and nose, so he wouldn’t smother. No one would know. I intended to carry him Fireman style.
Razor snatched one of the hands, held it up to study it, then stuffed it in his pocket. My guess was he wanted to practice skinning with his razor. He snatched the other one and it disappeared into the other pocket in his cut.
“Let me see his fucking body, Reese,” Razor ordered.
Sonofabitch .
If Razor noticed the rise and fall of Roman’s chest, I’d have some explaining to do.
“Did you find out why he killed Trinity?” Marquis asked.
“Wasn’t interested,” I said, and immediately regretted my words. I’d spent six fucking months mourning her. No wonder my brothers gaped at me. “Just wanted to get my lick in,” I quickly added.
Razor narrowed his icy gray eyes and cocked his head. “What the fuck’s going on? I smell a load of bullshit.”
“Nothing’s going on, Prez. His sister is twenty-one years old. She deserves to know what happened to that asshole.”
He looked me dead in the eyes. “That motherfucker breathing or what?”
“Barely,” I admitted. I wasn’t a liar. From time to time, I embellished, but I didn’t flat out lie to my president when he asked a direct question about an enemy club. Shit like that would get me fucked up. “By the time we get him to her, he’ll probably be gone, which is why I want the body bag.”
I’d wanted the body bag to sneak him out. My amended plan sounded just as good.
Prez clapped my face between his big hands, harder than necessary. “Then you should put a bullet in his head and make sure he ain’t breathing.”
“I want him to die slowly,” I replied without flinching.
My words weren’t a lie, per se. More like another amended plan.
Jester inserted himself next to Razor and studied me from head to toe. I kept my face passive.
“Trinity was his favorite slut,” Jester decided, looking at Razor and nodding at me. “Should be up to him how he avenges her.”
“He’s a Bloody Scorpion,” Bolt said with disgust, glowering at me. “Roman Mac’s entire fucking existence is a crime.”
“He’s probably already bled to death,” I said.
That was true. He’d lost a lot of fucking blood.
“So, what’s wrong with shooting him in the goddamn head to finish the job?” Warrior demanded.
Murmurs rippled through the crowd. Some saw no harm in my actions. Most agreed with our president.
Fuck my life.
I shoved a hand through my hair and gritted my teeth. “Look, I fucked his little sister before I knew who she was. Saw his picture on her counter the next morning. I left and blocked her fucking number. Haven’t talked to her since.”
Nope, not since before we fell asleep, early yesterday morning.
“If he’s alive, you’re risking all of us for a twat,” Razor boomed.
“He no longer has hands, Prez,” I argued, trying to ignore how annoyed I felt at how crudely he referred to Ainsley. “If he somehow survives, his president will probably finish him off. What good is a crippled enforcer?”
I hoped that was how Roman met his end. Despite not putting a bullet through his skull, he deserved death. But I no longer sought to be his executioner.
More whispers, the opinion still divided, but a few more had joined my corner.
“What good is a living Scorpion, boy? Cripple or fucking robust, he should be dead,” Bolt snarled, his disappointment cutting through me.
I might no longer be a devastated teen under his care, but it’d be a blow if he stopped seeing me as a surrogate son. Not the end of the world, though it would warrant a night of drinking my sorrows away.
Hearing some people agreeing with me gave me the confidence to address Razor once more. “I don’t ask for much, Prez.”
Razor scratched his leathery jaw. “First time in memory you’re asking for anything, Reese.” After studying me for a moment, he walked up to me and thumped my shoulder. “Take him to his sister. Seeing as how this is such a big favor, you better not ask for nothing anytime soon. If that motherfucker survives and takes out one of our boys, I’m killing that bitch. This time, there won’t be no fucking intervention. I’ll let you live the rest of your days knowing you played a role in her death. What’s her name?”
“Ainsley.”
“Roman Mac’s sister, you said?” Razor asked, grinning at the ripples of laughter running through the crowd. “Dark hair, whiskey eyes?”
I nodded.
“You planning on seeing her again?”
“Not after tonight when I drop her brother off. I plan to wear a mask and a jacket over my cut.”
“Then go. Get that motherfucker out of here before I change my mind, Reese.”
I didn’t have to be told twice.
I never knew how many of the memories surrounding my parents’ deaths were real and how much I conjured from my overactive imagination. My mother’s scream, followed by gurgling, haunted my nightmares. Just before I always awakened, blood bloomed on the side of my father’s head. Then I’d fly forward and bounce to the floor in the back of the car.
In my waking moments when those thoughts invaded me, I always lifted my head and watched as my father shifted the car into park. I’d hear my mother’s voice asking what were we waiting for, then I’d lay my head down and close my eyes again. My mother’s scream, the sound of Harley pipes, and tires screeching always awakened me. I went flying because the car ramped from zero to mach 1 in seconds.
I was there when my parents were killed. That was the only definitive knowledge I had about that day, then Roman was there, pulling me out of the bullet-riddled car and into his arms.
I’d clung to my brother. Though I was sheltered, it wasn’t as much as some ten-year-olds. Partly because of who my father and brother were and partly because my mother believed in the power of an education. She believed in knowledge.
That day, I knew my life had changed forever, but I also knew I had my brother. Roman’s love and dedication to me and the memory of our parents never wavered. And I loved him just as much. It was why I’d made the decision about Dayton.
My rebellion, my one night with Reese, was all for nothing. Dayton was dead. I didn’t have to marry him. Roman had taken care of the problem.
Except he’d been taken away from me. Once he disconnected our call, I tried to contact Reese, not realizing he’d blocked me until then. I would’ve begged him for help in finding Roman. Yes, they were enemies, but I’d hoped he’d do this for me.
My call to Lou Lou went straight to voicemail. I supposed he’d blocked me too because of Nova. As usual, she’d run straight to him with what I said about his marital status. And as usual, he fucking lied to her.
It didn’t matter. None of it mattered because Roman was gone, too, and I was completely alone in the world.
I knew I had to find the strength to go on. Somehow. My mom had been amazingly strong in the face of many adversities. Dad was there as much as possible. They’d want me to go on. More than anything, I wouldn’t allow all Roman’s hard work in raising me to go to waste.
I covered my mouth to hold in my sob. But Roman was right. I’d cried the entire fucking weekend and for what? Reese walking out couldn’t compare to my devastation now. Mom always advised me to cry over the big stuff. This was it. Reese could fuck himself for all I cared.
My virginity was gone, Dayton was dead, and I had to face life without Roman. Or, anyone, really, because fuck Nova, too. Throwing hands because she was a stupid bitch was a hard pass.
The pounding on my door matched the pounding in my head. I didn’t want to disturb the neighbors, so I stumbled forward and looked through the peephole.
Louisiana stood on the other side. I couldn’t drum up any anger, so I opened the door. Louisiana stepped aside. Four men wearing skull masks brushed past me. Carrying Roman. They dumped his body on the floor and a scream escaped me.
Louisiana clutched my arms. “He’s breathing, Ainsley.”
It took a moment for the words to sink in. Afraid to hope, I met his turquoise gaze. He nodded, and I hurried to my brother, touching his nose and his cheeks. Lifting one towel-wrapped hand then the other.
“Do you know how to contact any of his brothers?”
“Yeah.”
“He needs a doctor.”
“I’m going to call an ambulance,” I said, reaching for my phone, but he cursed and snatched it from me.
The other men shifted. He glared at them.
“Wait ten minutes,” he ordered.
“But—”
“Ten minutes,” he gritted, pocketing my phone.
I hopped to my feet and lunged for it, but he grabbed my wrists. One of the guys made a noise, but I didn’t care who.
“How can I call anyone if I don’t have my phone?”
“You’ll get your phone back tomorrow. I’ll have Nova bring it to you.”
“Tell her to leave it at the door. Unless she comes with an apology, I don’t want to talk to her. I need my phone to call ‘911’.”
“I’ll call,” he barked, his nostrils flaring.
One of the guys cleared his throat.
“Why’d you tell Nova I was married?”
“You mean why did I do the job you should’ve done?” I retorted, wanting them gone so I could see to my brother. I didn’t trust they’d really call an ambulance.
“Stay out of my fucking business, Ainsley.”
“Gladly, Louisiasshole.”
Scowling, he shoved me away. The moment they left, I’d go to the neighbor’s and make the call. Fuck him.
“Most of the club wanted Roman Mac dead,” Louisiana said. “He’s alive because of you. I’m going to call a fucking ambulance, Ainsley. Give us the courtesy of getting away before those motherfuckers swarm the neighborhood.”
“Fine.”
“Why is he a Mac and you’re a Valois?”
I explained why, so he’d leave and take his scary friends with him. “After our parents were killed, he didn’t want to take any chances with my life. From then on, he gave me our mother’s maiden name. Mac is unusual because it doesn’t have a second part.”
“He did it to protect you.”
“Yes,” I answered, although he hadn’t asked a question.
He backed toward the door and the other men followed suit.
“See you around, Ainsley,” Louisiana said.
“Yeah, you too.” I closed the door and hurried to the bathroom for more towels.