by Ann Jensen
Bullets sprayed towards Sharp and his men and they ducked behind a large crate. He keyed his mic.
“Zone one still hot three hostiles remain in northern quadrant one lamb.”
Smoke pulled out a flashbang, holding it for second until Sharp nodded.
“Zone one bang.” Sharp let Dozer and Colt know to be ready.
As soon as the noise and light exploded in the room, Sharp and his men sprinted towards the location of the last three men. They rounded the corner and Sharp felt satisfaction watching the last of the assholes jerk as the bullets ended their existence. Until he saw one of the motherfuckers start to crawl for his dropped weapon; Sharp strode to him, pointed his Sig at his head, and pulled the trigger.
“Zone one clear.”
Chapter 31
Karma’s only a bitch if you are.
Pixie’s arms and back ached as the vehicle she was prisoner in pulled to a stop, causing her to roll further under the tarp into the motorcycle lying in the truck bed next to her. Fear and rage played ping-pong inside her stomach as she waited to find out what would happen next. Whatever that prick had given her had worn off a little while ago and had given her too much time to think about how she wanted to kill Kickstand and what was going to happen to her if Mitchel got his hands on her.
Female laughter echoed against the tarp. “I can’t wait to see that bitch’s face.” Pixie clenched her hands as she recognized Tina’s voice.
The tarp was pulled off and the harsh bright light of the afternoon sun hurt Pixie’s eyes. Kickstand and Tina stood at the back of the truck bed, smirking down at her. Kickstand lowered the gate and grabbed for her foot. She kicked out at him, but the asshole still managed to drag her out of the truck and dump her on the gravel on the side of the road.
The small road had no traffic or houses anywhere in sight. Trees lined both sides of the road like evil guardians trapping Pixie in her current situation. The rope holding her wrists together burned as it twisted when she moved to push herself to her feet.
Tina snuggled up against Kickstand like a bad imitation of a Bond girl. “Not so tough now, are you? Dark Sons think they are so special, but they couldn’t even keep one of their precious old ladies safe.” The black eye the woman had badly hidden under an excessive amount of makeup made Pixie smirk.
The knots holding her wrists together were well done and it would take a lot of time, or a sharp knife, to get her untied. “Guess being with a traitor who drugs and ties up women is a different kind of special.”
The backhand from Kickstand that sent her banging into the tailgate wasn’t a surprise. Tina walked up and tried to punch her in the stomach, but Pixie used her bound hands to block the blow. The crazy woman stepped back and pulled a small but sharp looking knife out from behind her.
Kickstand grabbed Tina by the back of the neck. “We can’t damage her if we want our payday.”
“Fine.” When he released her the woman got a sly look in her eyes and walked over until Pixie could feel her breath on her cheek. Tina slipped the knife under her cut and Pixie wanted to cry as she felt the leather vest slipping from her shoulders.
Of all the things the woman could have done to her, this was the most painful. The sound of the leather hitting the dirt felt like it stripped her of Sharp’s protection. No, he will come for me. Pixie just hoped it wouldn’t be too late. Tina tried to rip off the necklace that Sharp had given her, but the thick metal held and the violent action caused Pixie to stumble back to her knees.
The sound of an approaching car stopped whatever remaining humiliation Tina had planned for her. Pixie raised her head and whimpered involuntarily at the sight of the familiar metallic-black Mercedes Benz. The car slowed and stopped as bile rose and burned against the back of Pixie’s tongue.
Mitchel’s bodyguards stepped out of the front doors and one opened the back-passenger door for their master. He stepped out onto the deserted road, his perfectly styled blond hair and immaculately tailored suit the perfect camouflage for the monster behind his ice-blue eyes.
“Ah, good, you do have her.” Mitchel’s cultured voice sent chills racing down Pixie’s spine.
“I want my money.” Kickstand grabbed the back of Pixie’s ponytail and pulled her to her feet.
“Of course.” Mitchel nodded to one of his men who stepped back and grabbed a briefcase out of the front passenger seat.
This was it. The devil was here to drag her back into Hell. Pixie prayed for salvation, but a lifetime of unanswered prayers gave her little hope. Tina clapped her hands like a small child about to get a gift. Didn’t this woman understand the evil that stood in front of her? That any one of these men would kill or abuse the stupid bitch for nothing more than a moment’s amusement?
The bodyguard strode over, holding out the briefcase. Time lost all meaning as Pixie saw the gun a moment before it fired straight at her. The explosion rang painfully in her ears, but the only discomfort she felt was a slight tug against her ponytail. Her body shook with renewed adrenaline. Tina’s scream echoed into the trees and Pixie turned, not caring she was giving her back to the man with the gun. Kickstand was motionless on the ground, his shocked, sightless eyes seemingly looking directly at her. The clean red wound was just off-center on his forehead, his blood soaking into the dirt behind him.
Tina was shrieking, her arms fluttering like a baby bird while the bodyguard calmly turned his gun towards the terrified woman. Mitchel walked up in that unhurried way which had always unnerved her. He cupped Pixie’s cheek with a clammy hand in a mockery of a caring gesture. “I will enjoy watching him slice you into bloody pieces for all the trouble you have caused me. If I didn’t want the information he is giving me so badly, I would keep you for myself and spend months punishing you.” He looked over at Tina whose screams had turned to whimpers. The woman hugged herself as if any comfort could be found in this situation. “Normally I wouldn’t waste such a pretty piece falling into my lap but unfortunately we only have the one trunk and time is short.” He sighed and gave a curt nod.
The explosion of the shot echoed into silence as Tina fell backwards, joining Kickstand in death. On the edge of the now reddened dirt, her destroyed cut lay with the words ‘Property of Sharp’ taunting her of what had almost been hers.
Chapter 32
There are some actions for which an ass kicking isn’t nearly enough.
Sharp stared at the twenty-seven zombie-like women huddling in blankets against the wall and had to fight the urge to wretch. Only four of them looked around as if they had minds of their own. The rest were cowering like broken animals, or were flat out catatonic.
Max walked over to Sharp after handing the last girl a bottle of water. His eyes were blazing blue over the skull facemask that all the Brothers wore. Sharp wanted to rip his off and get some fresh air, but he couldn’t in front of the women.
“What’s the plan?” Max asked, pushing up his sleeves in frustration.
“Clean’s crews already have the bodies and we aren’t bothering with anything else. We found money, computers, and enough prescription drugs to start our own pharmacy but Tek says there is no sign of Mitchel at either location.” Sharp caught the Road Captain up.
“And the girls?”
“Any of them sane enough to call the cops after we’re long gone?”
“I can.” A very curvy woman with auburn hair stood. She had a sheet wrapped around her body like a toga, making her look like a Greek Goddess in a low budget film. Some bruising was visible but Sharp guessed she must not have been a prisoner long.
His Brother studied the woman like he was trying to memorize every detail of her body and reached into his pocket, handing her one of the cellphones they had gotten off a dead guard. “Screens locked but you can hit the emergency call after we’ve left.”
“I’m Trisha,” she said, as if expecting the two of them to respond. Her eyes were filled with what seemed to be hero worship as they took in what she could see of Max.
Sh
arp studied the two, who both seemed caught in some sort of fucked up attraction. “Wait as long as you can—an hour would be great, but ten minutes is enough if you can’t.” His words must have interrupted the connection as Max spun and left the room.
Trisha nodded, clutching onto the phone. “Can I ask you something?”
“You can ask.” Sharp didn’t want to traumatize the woman anymore by cutting her short, but they needed to be going if they were going to hit the auction house tonight.
“Are you guys FBI?”
Sharp burst out laughing but tried to reel it in at the woman’s hurt expression. “No. Just concerned citizens.”
Sharp took his exit and once outside whistled to pull everyone in. Most climbed on their bikes; the rest got into the two nondescript vans they had brought.
Sharp sent off a text to Pixie:
Won’t be home tonight. Miss you.
He waited a minute but when he didn’t get a text back, he put his phone in his chest pocket and started off towards their next location. Fifteen minutes later his phone vibrated, signaling an incoming call. He pulled out his phone, the display flashing Dragon’s name. He cursed; he didn’t have a Bluetooth earpiece in. He waved to get Max’s attention before pulling off the road. The first call had ended before he stopped, and he had pulled down his facemask and was about to dial Dragon back when the phone started ringing again.
Sharp’s stomach dropped as he hit accept. “What’s wrong?”
“Pixie and Kickstand are missing. No one has seen either of them for over an hour. His bike and truck are gone.”
“Shit.”
“Puck was on the front gate. He says Kickstand said he was going on a grocery run and so he didn’t stop him. Kickstand had a bunch of stuff in the bed of his truck, but it was covered up by a tarp. Could have been his bike on its side.”
“And it could have been my woman. Fuck! I’ll call you back.”
Max had gotten off his bike and was walking up when Sharp dialed Tek.
Tek’s voice was crisp and to the point. “Hey, Brother. I’ve sent the blueprints of the next place to your phone.”
“I need you to put a trace on Pixie, she’s vanished along with that cocksucker Kickstand.” Sharp wasn’t proud of the pure fear evident in his voice.
Max cursed and pulled down his face mask. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
“On it, one second. Her phone is at the Clubhouse.”
“Yeah, well she isn’t.”
“Her cut is on a small road off of twenty-five, close to Colorado Springs.”
“We’re three hours from there. Do we know anyone in the area who can get there faster?”
“Rex and Javelin are stationed in Colorado Springs. I’ll get someone to... wait. Her personal tracker pinged on eighty-five, a little north of Denver.”
“God bless you and your paranoid triple back up.” Pixie’s necklace was thick titanium and locked to her neck. It would take special tools to remove it. “See if you can get someone to track down the cut. We’re going to head west on eighty down to eighty-five. Text me when we’re close or if anything changes. Dozer is driving a cage, so call him with details.”
Sharp hung up without another word, kicking his bike into gear and circling his arm so that everyone would follow him. Max grabbed his arm. “We’ll find her.”
“Yeah, but will it be in time?”
Chapter 33
If you put my back against the wall you had better be about to kiss me or ready to fight.
By the time the vehicle stopped again Pixie had pulled herself together. Somehow, someway, she would find the strength to not let Caravaggio break her. Sounds were muffled outside the car and she promised herself she would keep a level head and escape if at all possible.
“You’ll get the slut when you give me the information you promised.” Mitchel’s icy tone was unmistakable.
“I’ll give you nothing. Your incompetence has cost me more than you can imagine.” The sound of Caravaggio’s voice was enough to make Pixie break out in a cold sweat. She tried to move but found herself bumping her head on the metal roof of the trunk.
“Incompetence?” Mitchel’s voice came from close by. “If you hadn’t insisted on going after this particular girl none of this would even be a problem. I’m going to have to move my operation because of all the pressure that motorcycle gang is putting on the local talent. No information, no girl.”
“Fine. It’s inside.”
Dim light illuminated the area as the trunk opened, revealing the early evening sky. Large, strong hands roughly pulled her out and dumped Pixie on the ground. She blinked, trying to take in everything she could. They were on a dirt driveway in front of a large cabin. Woods surrounded them on all sides with no other buildings in sight.
Caravaggio, Mitchel, and two of his favorite bodyguards were the only people she could see. What little hope she had of being rescued vanished as she realized they weren’t anywhere she recognized. Did Sharp realize she was missing? Movement near the trees revealed guards patrolling with what looked like fully automatic weapons.
Considering the living nightmare the rest of her life had been, it was fitting she was going to find her end like some bad horror movie actress in the middle of nowhere, at the hands of an out-of-control psychopath.
“Get up, slut,” Mitchel snarled, and Goon One pulled her to her feet. She stumbled into the man, her hands catching for a moment on his pocket. The movement gave her an idea. It would be hard with her hands tied together but it might work.
They all marched up to the front door and when they paused for a moment, Pixie threw herself at Mitchel, sobbing for all she was worth.
“Please, Master, don’t give me to him.” The words were bitter in her mouth as her hands did their work quickly. She pressed her head against the slaver’s chest. “I’ll do anything, please don’t let him have me.” She found what she was looking for in the second pocket she checked: Mitchel’s switchblade that he loved tormenting her with. She had barely slipped it between her bound hands when a blow sent her tumbling down the steps.
Unable to catch herself or risk revealing her prize, the edge of the step caught her on the face and shoulder. Her lip split and she tasted the salty copper of blood. Goon Two had her back on her feet in a moment. Her sobs were real now as pain flashed through her system, the sharp jolt in her ribs indicating one was probably cracked.
She waited for the embarrassing rush of pleasure to follow but it never came. She started to laugh as they dragged her inside. The pain wasn’t pleasurable, only painful! That knowledge was freeing despite the injuries.
“Crazy pain slut.” Goon One’s muttered slur stopped her laughing but didn’t kill the strange sense of happiness she felt.
“Put my property in the back bedroom,” Caravaggio said as soon as they were inside. “The files on my loving uncle are in my office. He chose to back scum bikers over me; it will be nice to watch you play him like a puppet.”
Goon One dragged Pixie by her elbow down a hallway, shoving her inside the last door. When he didn’t follow her inside the spacious bedroom, she couldn’t believe her luck. Working quickly, she got the switchblade into her hands.
The steel blade sprung out and Pixie studied the sharp edge, dark thoughts swirling in her mind. The knife could free her forever. She could use it to kill herself. Bleed out before any of the men in the other room even knew something was wrong. A guarantee she would never be a victim ever again.
The image of Sharp suddenly filled her mind. She touched the pendant he had given her. The love and happiness he made her feel was more than she had dreamed was ever possible. She didn’t know whether she would ever see him again, ever feel his strong arms holding her, but she did know he would do everything he could to find her. How would he react if she just gave up and took the easy way out?
But if Caravaggio started torturing her, would there be anything left for him to love? A strength settled in her gut. She survived before and fo
r Sharp she could do it again. Even if she didn’t survive, he would know she tried.
Pixie sat on the edge of the large bed and clamped the knife between her knees, cutting the rope holding her hands together. Within five minutes her hands were free. Ten minutes after that she was sure she couldn’t sneak out a window with all the guards patrolling and she wondered how long she would have before Caravaggio came for her. Twenty nerve wracking minutes after that, the door slammed open to reveal an enraged Mitchel. Pixie was as ready as she could be for whatever was to follow with the switchblade concealed in her hand behind the skirt of her dress.
“How did they find my house?” Mitchel’s eyes were wild and showed the man was completely out of control. She’d never seen him like this. Pixie didn’t bother to hide the smirk on her face. Sharp and his Brothers had obviously acted on the information she had given them. “It’s off the grid completely, self-contained, and the name on the property isn’t connected to me. I don’t even let my own men know where it is, yet somehow a bunch of muscle head bikers found it, and the training center, without tripping any of the cyber alerts I have in place.”
“Guess taking me there was a mistake then.” Pixie taunted him and stood. Mitchel had been careful almost every time he brought her to his house by blindfolding her, but one time the bag had been loose, and she had managed to get a glimpse of the nav system as he parked.
“You fucking bitch!”
Mitchel charged at her and she spun, kicking him squarely in the temple. The momentum of the larger man’s body knocked her off balance and onto the floor. He tried to shake off the blow and lunged at her again on the floor. She did the only thing she could. She stabbed up with the switchblade.
He fell backward, grabbing his groin, a quickly spreading red stain around the knife buried there. She needed another weapon. She would survive. She would not be this motherfucker’s victim ever again. She grabbed the lamp off the bedside end table, the metal biting into her hands, and let out all of her fury with a scream.