Q
“Is it done?”
“Yeah, it’s done,” Ink answered. “We took him out to Handler’s Point, just like you told us.”
“Anyone see you?”
“Nah, there wasn’t a soul in sight. We made sure of that before we left the dock.”
“Good deal.” I gave him a pat on the shoulder. “Appreciate it, brother. Knew I could count on you.”
I should’ve felt relieved, but as I headed back out to my truck, I felt anything but.
The past few days had been hell.
James had been locked in Stitch’s holding room, and I’d spent days itching to get my hands on him.
But I couldn’t go near him—not until Wyatt and Big had a chance to investigate him.
Before I stepped foot in that room, we needed to know everything there was to know about him from where he worked to who he was associated with, and everything in between.
We also needed to know who he might’ve told that he was coming to Port Angeles to find Jules.
Under normal circumstances, it would’ve only taken a day or so for the guys to find that kind of information, but the whole bullshit with Rooster and I being kidnapped and beaten put a strain on them.
They spent hours on end trying to figure out who was behind it, but no matter which angle they took, they kept coming up empty-handed.
The warehouse where we were taken had been foreclosed on and belonged to one of the local banks.
The van they’d used to take us had been ditched in a back alley, but it had been stripped and torched.
They’d followed all the leads they had, but in the end, we were back at square one.
Having no idea where to turn next, Big and Wyatt directed their focus on James.
It didn’t take them long to discover that there wasn’t much to the infamous James Bruton.
He was a twenty-nine-year-old accountant with no friends or family to speak of—just a father in an old folk’s home that he hadn’t seen in over a year.
He spent most of his nights down at a local bar where he occasionally spent time with a local prostitute named Jazeel.
We sent a prospect to hook up with her and question her about her regular client, and she didn’t have many nice things to say about him.
In fact, she had nothing good to say about him.
Apparently, he had a thing for roughing her up, but considering her circumstances, there wasn’t much she could do about it.
She simply took his money and prayed he wouldn’t be back.
But that was never the case—at least, not until now.
After a quick run of his credit cards, Wyatt discovered that he’d been staying at a dive motel on the east end of town.
It wasn’t exactly the best area, but that worked in our favor.
No one around those parts would give two shits about some stranger in town, so I was in the clear.
I could finally have my moment with him.
Smokey and Clutch came along to make sure things didn’t get out of hand, but I wasn’t sure how much help they’d be. I got the feeling that Smokey wanted to end him just as much as I did. We were about to go into the room when Wyatt called out to me. “Hey, Q. Hold up.”
I turned, and when I saw him and Stitch coming toward me, I quickly asked, “Something wrong?”
“We got something you might wanna see.”
Wyatt had already shown me everything he and Big had found on James, so I was a little confused when he handed me another file. As I started to open it, I asked, “What is it?”
“It’s Jules’ medical records.” I looked up at him, and the second I saw the anguish in his eyes, I knew it was going to be bad. “That asshole has done a real number on her. She’s lucky to be alive.”
I started flipping through the different pages, and Jules had suffered everything from broken bones to severe lacerations. Hell, he’d even ruptured her fucking spleen. “Son of a bitch.”
“Yeah, he’s a real douchebag for sure.”
Seeing what he’d done to her fueled my rage, and I wanted to kill him even more. “She doesn’t want me to end him.”
“Seriously?” Stitch asked, sounding as surprised as I was.
“Yeah, and I don’t get it.” I ran my hand down my face and grumbled several curses under my breath. “How can she not want him dead after all this?”
“’Cause she’s one of the good ones.” Clutch placed his hand on my shoulder as she added, “She thinks there’s still hope for this asshole. It’s your job to go in there and decide if she’s right.”
“Something tells me that’s going to be easier said than done.”
“No doubt.”
Stitch and Wyatt waited in the hall while I went inside with Smokey and Clutch.
As soon as we walked in, James stood, and the chain around his foot scraped across the concrete floor as he backed into the corner.
He’d only been in there for a few days, but the time had not treated him kindly.
His clothes were not only bloody but dirty.
Both his eyes were black, and he had a gnarly, busted lip that didn’t appear to be healing well.
His eyes grew wide as he muttered, “What do you want from me? Why won’t you just let me go?”
“Because you’re a piece of shit who thought you could come here and put your hands on my girl.”
“Your girl? I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about. I haven’t touched your girl.” His eyes narrowed as he thought for a moment, and then, it hit him. “You’re the one who’s fucking Jules? You gotta be fucking kidding me.”
“You should’ve never come here. You should’ve left it alone.”
“You know you can’t do shit to me, right? We’re still fucking married. You touch me, and everyone will think Jules was involved.”
“That’s where you’re wrong.” I crossed my arms and glared at him as I explained, “You signed those divorce papers over a week ago.”
“That’s bullshit! I haven’t signed a goddamn thing!”
“Wrong again,” I snarled. “The papers were notarized and sent into the courts. It’s done, and so are you.”
“You’ll never get away with this!”
“I already have.”
“You no-good piece of shit! You deserve each other!”
“I’ll tell you what you deserve...” I held up Jules’s medical file and said, “You deserve a taste of your own medicine.”
“What the fuck does that mean?”
“Let me explain it in a way you’ll understand.”
Clutch and Smokey went over and bound his hands and positioned him on one of Stitch’s hooks. Once he was secured, I walked over and picked up one of Stitch’s sledgehammers, then carried it back over to James. “Whoa! Hold on! What are you going to do with that?”
“Remember the time you broke Jules’s ankle?”
I didn’t wait for him to answer. Instead, I lifted the hammer and slammed it into the side of his foot, crushing his ankle. He immediately started wailing, “Oh, God! Motherfucker. You fucking piece of shit!”
“See, I was just going to put a fucking bullet in your head and be done with you.” I swung the hammer back and forth, taunting him as I explained, “But then, I had a change of heart. I thought it was only fair that you get to experience all the pain you inflicted on Jules. I’m gonna break every bone that you broke of hers, give you every concussion you gave her, every laceration, and even give your spleen a run for its money.
If you’re able to survive that, then we’ll let you go, and you can carry on with your sad, little life. ”
“You’re doing this over that fucking whore?”
The words had barely left his mouth when I slammed the sledgehammer into his side.
I didn’t give him a chance to recover before I hit him again and again.
And keeping true to my word, I broke every bone that he’d broken of hers.
Then, I beat the ever-loving hell out of him, making sure to leave him with a concussion of all concussions.
He was barely hanging on when I started cutting away at his flesh, leaving lacerations in the exact location where he’d left them on Jules.
By the time I was done, he was completely unconscious and barely breathing.
I took a step back, and bile rose to the back of my throat when I saw the state he was in—not because he was barely hanging on, but because he’d done all those things to Jules.
It was that thought that had me going over to him once more. I took the knife in my hand and jabbed it deep in his side, severing his liver; then I put my mouth to his ear and whispered, “Rot in hell, asshole.”
I dropped the knife on the floor, then walked out of the room, leaving him there to die. I remembered Jules telling me that she didn’t think he deserved to die for what he’d done, but I disagreed. There was no redemption for a man like him, and clearly, my brothers agreed.
As soon as we were out in the hall, Stitch came over to me and asked, “You good?”
“Been better.”
“It might not feel like it, but you did the right thing.” I’d heard some of the horror stories Stitch had told about his youth and his grandfather, so I didn’t question him when he said, “A man like him never changes. Trust me. I know that better than anyone.”
“Yeah, I know, but killing him didn’t change anything. It didn’t take away what he’d done.”
“No, but now, he won’t be able to hurt anyone else.”
“This is true.”
“Why don’t you go take a shower and meet us in the bar? You look like you could use a beer.”
“Yeah, a beer would be good, but I think I’m just gonna call it a day and head home.”
“Thought so.” He gave me a brotherly pat, then said, “Get some rest, and we’ll see ya tomorrow.”
“What about him?”
“I’ll get Ink and a couple of the other prospects to come and take care of him. Probably just bag him up and dump him.”
It wasn’t the first time we’d had to dispose of a body, so I knew they could handle it. I was ready to put the day behind me, so after a quick nod, I headed out to my truck.
I took my time driving home.
I rolled down the windows in my truck and let the cold wind rush in.
I hoped it would help clear my head, and while it helped, I was still feeling off-center.
When I got to the house, I tossed my bloody clothes, then headed straight for the bathroom and turned on the shower.
I took a long one, hoping it would ease the tension in my muscle, but I didn’t start to feel like myself until Jules peeked her head around the shower curtain and asked, “Can we get a dog?”
“What?”
“Can we get a dog?” She crinkled her nose in that goofy way that she did, then shrugged. “Or maybe a cat? I don’t know. What do you think?”
“I think a pet would be fine, but you gotta decide which one you want.”
“How am I supposed to do that?”
“I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”
“We’ll see.” Her eyes drifted south, and a wicked smile crossed her face as she asked, “You up for a little company?”
“Absolutely.”
Seconds later, Jules was in the shower next to me, and I finally felt like myself again.
We spent the night making love, and the next morning, we got up and drove down to the local pound.
After going back and forth, Jules had decided on a cat, thinking it would be easier to take care of, and I agreed with her—until we spotted Roscoe, a gray and white French bulldog.
Jules immediately fell in love. She sat down by his kennel and started loving on him through the wire bars. “Isn’t he just precious!”
“He’s pretty cute.”
“We gotta get him.”
“I thought you wanted a cat.”
“I did.” She pursed her lips into a pout. “But he’s so sweet and ‘wittle.”
“You’ll have to potty train him.”
“Okay.”
“Gotta kennel train him, too.”
“Okay. I can do that.”
“You’re sure about this?” I pushed. “You really want a dog and not a cat?”
“Yeah, but only if you want him, too.” She pulled her hand from the cage and stood. “I mean, I don’t want him to just be my dog. I want him to be our dog.”
“You gonna be willing to keep the name Roscoe?”
“Well, yeah. I think it suits him.”
Her smile got me right in the gut, and I knew there was no way in hell I was leaving that pound without that dog. “Then, I guess we’re gettin’ a dog.”
“Yes!”
Jules jumped up and wrapped her arms around me, hugging me tightly. I was about to hug her back when she released me and knelt back down to Roscoe’s kennel. She opened the door, and the second she lifted him into her arms, he started licking her face. “I love him!”
“Something tells me I’m gonna regret this.”
We left the pound and went straight to a local pet store, where we spent a small fortune buying everything we’d need to house a dog. I might’ve complained if it hadn’t been for the enormous smile on my girl’s face. Seeing her so happy made me forget about all the bullshit with James—almost.
I wanted to check in with Wyatt and Big and make sure no issues had come up with James and his sudden disappearance. As I’d hoped, no one seemed at all concerned about his whereabouts, and no missing person’s report had been made.
I was feeling pretty good about things as I headed into the bar to find Smokey and Stitch. When I walked in, they were sitting at the counter with Rooster and Cotton. As soon as I sat down, Cotton slid me over a beer and asked, “How’s it going, brother?”
“Better today than yesterday.” I took a sip of my beer, then added, “I got a dog.”
“That should make life interesting.”
“No doubt.” I looked over to Rooster and was pleased to see that, like me, he was back on his feet. “How about you? You making it alright?”
“Better than ever.” He snickered as he said, “Our girl Ariana has been taking good care of me. She’s been tendin’ to all my needs.”
“I bet she has.”
“It’s been all good, except she has this thing for doing it in the shower.” He grimaced as he explained, “It’d be one thing if there were multiple shower heads and everybody got plenty of hot water, but that shit doesn’t ever happen. My ass is always in the back where there’s just a trickle.”
I thought back to my shower with Jules, and Rooster wasn’t wrong. It was a little cold, but Jules kept me plenty warm. So, I kept my thoughts to myself and waited for him to finish his rant.
“Now, don’t get me wrong. It’s hot as fuck to see a sexy beast like Ariana naked with water streaming down her.” He used his hands to demonstrate. “But damn. My balls have never drawn up so tight, like a pup left out in the cold. Sitting there shaking and begging to be let in where it’s warm.”
“Sounds like a real problem you’ve got there.”
“Yeah, I’m thinking I need to get a prospect to put in some more shower heads.”
“Might not be a bad idea.” Before Rooster had a chance to carry on any further, I turned back to Cotton and asked, “Have there been any new leads with our friends?”
“Not a damn thing.” Cotton shook his head. “I got a bad feeling about all this. We might have a real fight on our hands—one like we’ve never had before.”
“Then, we’ll fight. We’ll fight with everything we have because nobody takes down Fury. Not now. Not ever.”