Chapter 42 #2
I’m going to kill Toni when I find her. Giving him the information about where Trixie was is one thing, telling him what she’d been to the club was another.
She must have known that would send him off the rails.
Probably what she wanted. She even suggested herself that Trixie was soft on me, and resented her being close to Ace.
This is her revenge. No thanks to her, it failed.
That decision to let her live will haunt me forever.
Talking isn’t going to get us anywhere. There’s nothing he can say that I want to hear. No explanation he can offer for the way he treated my old lady.
So I get down to business. “Who knew you were here?”
“Her father, my fiancée, the boss…” Air whooshes out of him as I punch him in the stomach again.
“Try harder.”
“I told you the truth.”
“A little help, Tempest?” As the sergeant-at-arms obligingly steps forward, I indicate I want him to hold Alongi’s hand steady. Then, taking my favourite pair of pliers, I relieve him of his fingernails.
It takes all ten, but when I finally get around to his teeth, he stops long enough to shout out, “Nobody knows I’m here.” He’s slumped against the ropes holding him, and regards me with defeated eyes. “Please, I beg you. Just end this quickly.”
Did he have mercy on Trixie? Fuck no. I’m going to treat him just as he treated her.
I’ve kept my rage bottled until I’ve gotten the answers I need.
I’ve let it come to the surface, but for now keep it leashed.
Before I let my inner freak free, I know my brothers want their own form of retribution, so I turn my back on him and state, “Step up now if you want your pound of flesh.” Then I move back and let the brothers come forward.
I see a flexing of fists, then Bullseye, with a nod to me, is the first to approach.
He doesn’t pull his punch, and the cracking of a rib is audible.
Saint follows after. He must have picked up one of the baseball bats I keep stocked in the barn, as wood hits Alongi’s leg, unbalancing him.
Tempest is next. He stabs him in the arm.
One by one, my brothers step up. By the time Winchester, the last man, has had his turn, Alongi no longer has a chance to support himself.
Both lower limbs are broken and misshapen.
He’s hanging by just one working arm, as Rat, rather impressively for him, used his strength to dislocate his other shoulder.
Several of his teeth are missing, and blood flows from his broken nose.
Now it’s down to me. I have a wealth of torture techniques in my arsenal.
I could electrocute him – yeah, we’ve got solar panels and a battery installed on this barn with the exact voltage for just that purpose.
I could use a knife to gut him. I could waterboard him.
But each injury doled out to him hasn’t eased my desire for revenge.
The smell of blood and his ever-weakening cries for mercy have instead increased it.
I want his end to be up front and personal.
I roll back my shoulders, let my hands curl into fists, then, taking a breath, let the vision of Trixie as we’d found her come into my head.
Remembering how, for a moment, I’d not known if she was alive or dead.
Pure red rage takes over my body, and my freak comes out to play.
I launch myself forward, using him as a human punching bag, never letting my fists stop hitting him, or my feet stop kicking.
I flail, punch, lash out, until there’s nothing but a bleeding, broken heap of flesh hanging in front of me.
Even then, I don’t stop. Rationally, I know he’s dead, but that doesn’t matter.
I’ll send him to hell in pieces, so that no one can recognise him either in this life or the next.
It’s only when my muscles start to give out that my name being called gets through to me. Even then, I don’t stop until a voice says the only words that would get through to me.
“Trixie needs you.”
Trixie. I left her to deal with her now-very-much-ex. She needs me.
My punches slow, and suddenly I see what’s in front of me. Nothing more than flesh and broken bones hang from the beam.
I start to regain control, breathing heavily.
Having deemed it’s now safe, Prez puts his hand on my shoulder and squeezes his fingers. “It’s done, Freak. Leave us to clean up. Words is gonna take him what’s left of him, and put him in a coffin. You go see to your woman.”
Feeling like all my energy has left me, I turn and make my way to the door, the brothers parting to clear a path. Rattler, I notice, gives me a particularly wide berth. Yeah, seeing me freak out and lose myself is a reminder to them all of who I am.
The fresh air revives me slightly, and my feet pick up pace as I head back to the woman who’s stolen my heart. She’s going to be so fucking pleased to know her husband is dead. My steps slow momentarily, realising she’s now free to marry me. Or soon will be.
Can I propose when she’s hooked up to an IV? Or should I wait? I even have the time to laugh at myself. Two minutes ago, I was beating a man to death, and now I’m worrying about how to ask a woman to be my wife.
I’m eager and smiling as I enter the clubhouse, my steps quickening as I head straight for the medical room. When I push open the door, I see Bronwyn clearing shit away, but no Trixie lying on the bed.
“Where is she?” I snap. “Where the fuck is she?” When Bronwyn isn’t quick enough to respond, my hands itch to take Short’s old lady around the throat and shake her until she gives me the answer I need.
Luckily, I don’t need to use such unwise force, as she finally responds, having finished wiping the bed down. Sighing, with her hands on her hips, she informs me, “Trix has got her own mind, Freak. Though I advised against it, she insisted on leaving. She said she’s used to healing on her own.”
“Where did she fuckin’ go?” I snarl, planning to kill whoever let her off the compound. Did she want to run as she knew I was committing murder? Why else would she leave me?
Bronwyn’s eyes crease, and her brows meet to form a V. “Up to your room, of course. Ace is with her.”
The wave of relief almost brings me to my knees. “Sorry,” I toss at her.
Her perplexed look deepens. “For what?”
For almost doing something that would have Short killing me.
“No matter,” I say over my shoulder as I turn to go find my woman.
I’m halfway across the clubroom when my phone rings. I’m tempted to ignore it, especially when I see Unknown Caller flash on the screen. Against my instincts, I accept the call.
“Freak? It’s Toni.”
I freeze. My first impulse is to shout at her, but my freak has had enough play today, and my intelligence wins out. “Where are you, Toni?” I actually have her location down to the street and house number.
The woman must be as stupid as shit, as she answers as if she doesn’t have a care in the world.
“You asked me to tell you where I ended up. That’s why I’m calling.
I’m in a small town called Turmoil, Nebraska.
I answered an ad for a librarian position, and I got the job. So here’s where I’m going to stay.”
“This your new number?”
“Yes. I promised to give it to you. I know Ace doesn’t want to call me now, but could you save it, in case?”
There’s no fucking need. I can already access it courtesy of Pippa, but I play the game. “Hit me.”
After she reels off her digits – which of course I don’t need, I can already see them on my screen – I’ve got enough wits about me to not raise suspicions. Very soon, she’s going to have visitors from another chapter of Kings. “I hope it goes well for you.”
She draws in a breath as if surprised. “Thank you. Oh, and Freak?” I must make a sound that encourages her to continue. “I’m going to start therapy. I know what I did wasn’t normal. I think I need help.”
I struggle to respond and simply say lamely, hopefully disguising my words as they come out through gritted teeth, “Good for you.”
Then, I end the call. There’s no fucking therapy in the world that can help such a vengeful bitch. I’ve stomached enough from that traitor tonight. The thought that Tyrant is now planning how to take her and make her pay brings a tight smile to my face.
“You alright, Freak?”
I swing around. It’s Prez. He must have left the others to deal with the corpse. “I’m fuckin’ great,” I reply, meaning it. “You won’t believe who called me, giving her new number and location.” When he raises an eyebrow, I continue, “Fuckin’ Toni.”
His head tilts, and he scrunches his brow. “Thought Tyrant would already have her.”
“She’s managed to get a job there. She was probably at work.”
Bullseye’s face goes grim. “Alongi was a piece of work. He very nearly killed Trixie. We almost didn’t find her in time. For that, I can’t let Tyrant leave her breathing.”
“She needs to die,” I say firmly. Trixie’s in a world of hurt, and it’s all down to Toni. I let her get away once. I won’t do it again. I may have to leave it to the Kings in Nebraska, but if she were here now, this time, I wouldn’t hesitate to pull the trigger.