Chapter 16
CHAPTER
SIXTEEN
Sawyer
I’ve been to the warehouse a few times, but not for a while.
Usually the committee members are the first on site, and they’ll call for backup from other club members if required.
It is always the job of Harlem and Tag to get information out of potential threats, misfits, enemies, and anything in between.
Cash allowing Brew and Haze to take over the ‘questioning’ thrills the two of them.
Catching criminals involved in trafficking was Brew’s torch to carry for many years, but since he made that promise to Erica to stay out of harm’s way until the baby is here, he’s kinda passed the baton to me.
Haze is involved too, but because he’s married to a cop, the less he has to do with hiding bodies the better, though he’d kill me for even thinking it, let alone saying it out loud.
The boys all do what they have to do, regardless of what their ol’ ladies want. That’s part of life within the MC, but because we’re not 1%ers, there is a lot less risk for our club because we don’t peddle in illegal activity.
We haul the two hostages into the warehouse by the docks swiftly. The club owns various properties around NOLA, and the one by the shipping yard is the perfect place to hold sea containers, and men who do the club and this city wrong. Two birds, one stone, so to speak.
Of course, they wriggle and thrash around like they have some hope of getting away. They don’t.
When Brew and Haze tie them securely to a chair, their hands bound in front splayed on the armrests. Logan and I stand back. When they’re done, Brew’s eyes meet mine, “So, kid, you’re up.”
I stare at him for one stunned moment, then say, “Huh?”
“Question them,” Brew commands. “You were the one thinkin’ they had connections back home, right? So, you’re up.”
I wasn’t expecting him to say that, or to put me in the hot seat, but I’m not mad about it. I just usually take a backseat to these things.
“We all wanna find out what they know,” Haze says. “And lord help them if they had anythin’ to do with Willow’s kidnapping.”
Right now? This is my moment.
I swallow hard, then yank down goon number one’s mouth restraint. “What’s your name, asswipe?”
“Umm, uh, B-Barry,” he stammers. “I-I don’t know what we’re doing here, but—”
I punch him in the stomach. “Did I ask for anythin’ other than your name? Speak when spoken to, that’s how this is gonna work, got me?”
He winces, gasping for breath, nodding profusely.
“Okay. So, let’s sort this out, and if you lie, I’ll make waterboarding look like an Olympic sport by the time I’m done. Nobody wants that, leather and water don’t mix, Barry, and my pals here pack some serious punch, so be a good boy and tell us what you know.”
I bend down close to him as his eyes dart around panicked. I chose him because the other dude sitting close by is a lot calmer. He’ll be harder to break. “What were you doin’ at Big Papa’s?”
“I-we-uh, we’re just tryin’ to find some new clients,” he says. “Networking around the hotspots. We’re new in town.”
“Clients for what?” I already know this answer, but I want him to say it.
“Girls,” he spits. “We have a business, and there’s no harm in asking around. This is all a big misunderstanding!”
“Girls?” I say, tapping my chin. “Not women?”
“Yes, women, of course, women. Hookers, for want of a better word. It’s what we do. And we have some beautiful girls. Men like you would like—”
There’s that word again.
“Shut the fuck up!” Brew roars. “Or you’re gonna lose your balls if you say one more thing like that.”
I let a second pass before I continue. “So, just to be clear. When you say women, how old are these women you have workin’ for you?”
“They, uh, they’re old enough, all different ages.”
I hear someone crack their knuckles behind me.
“They’re all over eighteen, then?”
His eyes widen and he nods without speaking. Liar.
I place a hand on Barry’s shoulder. “You wouldn’t lie to me, now would you?”
He shakes his head.
“Because that’s funny, one of Big Papa’s men swears you showed him pictures of an underage girl. He said she looked no older than twelve or thirteen. That’s pretty young.”
“That’s not true!” he spits. “Some of these girls look a lot younger. I have kids of my own—”
“Poor them,” Logan mutters.
“Do you sell children, Barry? Tell me the truth and this will all end quickly.”
His eyes widen. “End?”
I nod, smiling. “Yeah. I mean, you didn’t really think you were gonna be walkin’ out of here, did you?”
“B-but I’ve been cooperative. I haven’t done anything wrong. It’s all a big—”
"A misunderstanding?” I finish for him.
“That isn’t exactly true, is it?” Brew says, then moves to face ID Barry and unlock his phone.
“Uh, oh, better fess up now, bozo,” I say. “You don’t want this motherfucker gettin’ angry. He’s got a kid already, and one on the way, so he doesn’t take too kindly to child trafficking. None of us do.”
Brew doesn’t answer, he just turns and punches Barry straight in the nose. Blood spurts everywhere and he howls as I jump back. I don’t want his fucking DNA on me.
“That’s for bein’ a seedy motherfucker.” Brew turns to Haze. “Get the hammer.”
“W-what for?” Barry asks, blood pouring out of him as he squints his eyes open and closed.
I don’t like the sight of blood, but I hold in my repulsion. “Like I said, I gave you the opportunity to be honest, and you weren’t.”
“Those girls consented,” he fires back. “They’re younger than the women we usually pimp, but they’re into it. I swear to god I didn’t know they were kids…”
This guy is so full of shit.
“They’re children,” I shout. “How can a child consent?” The anger raging inside me feels nuclear. “Where do you find them?”
“We, uh, some of them are homeless, or taken from their homes, or in foster care, given a better life—”
Taken from their homes? What the fuck does that even mean?
“A better life?” Logan scoffs. “How the fuck is forcing a child into sex work a better life?”
“They’re not little kids!” he argues. “Some of these women really are older than they look—”
I slam my elbow into the side of his jaw, happy when I hear it crack. Brew grunts with satisfaction. “Now that’s a really shitty thing to say.” Brew hands me the hammer. “How many fingers do you think I can smash by the time I get to my next question?”
“I’ll talk!” he cries. “I didn’t wanna do it, but you know, times are tough right now, and you gotta do what you gotta do.
I have a family, too, and mouths to feed.
Work dried up, and I didn’t know when my next paycheck was coming in.
This was easy money, and all I had to do was look the other way. ”
He’s a fucking piece of shit and I can’t wait to kill him.
“Love how they make it all about them,” Logan mutters. “Fucking asshole. There are lots of other things you can do to make money, fat ass, without using little kids to pay your bills.”
“Looks like he has a whole folder dedicated to young kids,” Brew announces. “You sick fuck.”
“Now wait, those are pictures from my boss, not me,” Barry argues.
I swing the hammer around in my hand. “Hmm, which reminds me, who is it you work for?”
“We work independently,” he says, but I shake my head as he balks. “No! Please!”
I swing the hammer down on his pointer finger and he howls like a little pussy. “Oops, think I broke that, you good, buddy?” I shake his shoulder. “Got seven more fingers and two thumbs to go before we get to the feet, and we have pliers for that.”
“Boon!” he yells. “A guy called Forest Boon.”
The man next to him squirms in his chair, and it’s the first movement I’ve seen from him since we brought him in. Clearly, he doesn’t want his buddy here to talk, but that’s too bad.
A sickening feeling washes over me. These children are being trafficked, and they just walked right on into Big Papa’s thinking they could get away with it. What kind of sick fucks are they? Desperate ones, clearly.
“Know a guy called Reginald Bluff?”
He shakes his head, spit and blood dribbling down his chin. He’s disgusting.
“Never heard of him?” I ask again. “Are you sure?”
“I’m sure.”
“So who’s Forest? The man in charge?”
“He’s the middleman,” Barry says, panting like he’s run a marathon. “We don’t know who the head honchos are because they keep that a secret.”
It’s gotta be Bluff. I feel it in my bones.
“How long have you been scoutin’ in New Orleans?” I ask.
“About a week,” he says.
“Where are the girls?”
“Various locations.”
“Barry, you know what happened to your nose and your finger, and I’m not even warmed up yet,” I sing. “Let’s keep to the facts before you lose a digit entirely, m-kay?”
“I’ve got addresses, safe houses,” he bleats.
Safe houses? Oh, these people are fucking sick.
“We want those addresses,” Haze says. “Now.”
He sings like a canary as the boys start typing on their phones.
Logan rips the other restraint from his buddy’s mouth. “What about you?” he asks. “What do you have to say?”
“Fuck you!”
“Now that isn’t very nice, needle dick, here we were havin’ a pleasant conversation, and you have to go and ruin it.” Logan yanks him by the scruff of the neck, picking him up by the chair, and starts walking toward the back.
“Uh, oh,” I chime. “Looks like Papa Bear isn’t happy.”
I forgot how Logan can be. Hanging out with Brew and Haze so much, I know what to expect from them, but Logan is a dark horse, he operates on another level completely.
“W-where is he going?” Barry spits.
“Um, I think he’s about to drown.” I shrug. “Pity. If only he were cooperative like you’re bein’, it could’ve ended a lot nicer.”
Haze joins Logan, and sure enough, they start their own form of questioning over this fucking Forest guy and where to find him.
“Y-you’re gonna let me go, right?” Barry pleads. “I did everything you asked. I swear I don’t know anything else!”
“Umm, you see, I don’t think that letting you go is gonna send the right message to your guys,” I explain. “I think what we need to do is send you both back without your heads, just to let your bosses know we’re not in the mood for playin’ games.”
His face is red and angry, and he struggles again, the chair shifting slightly under his weight. “I’ve told you everything!”
“Not really. I already knew everything you told me, aside from Forest, and now I need to know where to find him,” I say. “If you even have a remote chance of making it outta here alive, you’ve gotta give me something.”
He winces when he hears his buddy choking and sputtering. I guess that’s what happens when you mess with kids and you fall into the wrong hands. Our hands.
“I-I don’t know,” he cries.
I raise my hand, and the hammer up in the air.
“Wait!” he sobs. “We have a meeting tonight, or we’re supposed to. If I don’t show up, they’re gonna know something happened.”
“Oh, something’s happening alright,” Brew says. “You’re a sick fuck, do you know that? Where are you meetin’?”
“The Snake Pit,” he spits. “It’s a place on—”
“I know where it is,” Brew mutters, then to me he says, “Shady piece of shit bar on the outskirts of town. We’ll need backup.”
“When and how do you check in with them?” I ask. “Pretty please.”
“He’ll send a text confirming if the location has changed,” Barry says.
I pat him on the head. “Good boy.”
“A minute,” Brew says, giving me a chin lift.
I smile at Barry. “Hang tight, I’ll be right back.”
“Are you gonna let me go?” he stutters. “That’s all I know!”
We both ignore him as we huddle. “Gotta send the tip to Willow about the kids. If we kill him now, we’ll lose our future bargainin’ chip,” Brew says. “And if he’s lyin’, we can come back here and torture him till he squeals.”
“Agreed. So, we off his bud over there to show him we’re serious?” I ask.
Brew smiles a rare smile. “Sounds like a plan, you up for it?”
I nod. “Of course. You know I have no conscience for assholes like this.”
“You don’t even wanna know what else I found.” Brew grinds his teeth. “Let’s deal with his buddy first.”
But when we turn, Haze clears his throat. “Uh, we lost him.”
“Jesus,” Brew mutters.
Haze shrugs. “Didn’t tell us a lot, though he said he thinks Regi has an apartment downtown, he owns a dry cleaners.”
I glance behind me, then pique a brow. “Interesting. So, are you gonna revive him?”
“Uh, no, I don’t think so,” Logan says, rearranging the dead man back to the floor, laying him in front of Barry.
He stares down at his buddy in horror. “Holy shit,” he whispers. “Frank? What the fuck did you do?”
I point at him. “I’d advise you to shut that stinkin’ mouth and keep quiet,” I threaten. “You’re still useful to us for now, he isn’t.”
Barry looks like he’s gonna cry like a little girl, but he thinks better of the outburst he keeps in check. “I have kids,” he mutters. “I have a wife.”
“So did a lot of us,” Brew says. “And you’re harpin’ to the wrong choir, you piece of shit. Oh, I’m gonna have some fun with you, but first we’ve gotta see if these locations stack up before we call the cops, so we’re gonna keep you alive, for now.”
A few seconds later, the door to the back swings open. Tag and Harlem walk in.
Barry’s eyes widen.
“Oh, the cavalry.” I smirk. “Barry, old bud, you should be shittin’ in your pants right now if you thought we were bad.
We’re gonna leave our pals here to talk with you some more, okay?
Now don’t you go passin’ out or, heaven forbid, following your buddies footsteps.
” I give his friend a shove with my boot.
“Because, mark my words, we’re far from done here.
” I smile, then pull his gag back into his mouth, wiping my hands on his shirt.
I’m gonna need some soap and a shit ton of hand sanitizer.
“You started the party without us,” Harlem grumbles. The two men are foreboding to look at, much less be left alone with. They are fucking huge. I don’t blame Barry for trembling. I would be too.
“Nah, Cash just gave us a head start,” I say when they pound hug us.
“Knew you couldn’t stay away for long,” Brew says, folding his arms over his chest. “We’ve got one casualty so far, the other fucker we’re keepin’ alive until we can confirm the addresses he gave us are legit, you think you can keep him alive until we get back?”
Tag glances over my shoulder. The man of few words actually smiles. Well, it’s more of a lip twitch, but good enough. “I’m sure we can find a way to pass the time.”
I’m really glad I’m not fuck face Barry right now, because he’s gonna wish he was never born.