Broken but Breathing (Jinx Tattoos Book 2)

by Shyla Colt

  “Am I at least going to meet this, Snake?” Jole asked hopefully.

  Estelle laughed. “Yeah, he’d love that. He’s out of town now, but once he gets back, I’ll set something up.”

  “Was he the reason I couldn’t get a hold of you on Valentine’s Day?”

  “He was, but it’s not what you think. We had an anti-Valentine’s Day. We went to the arcade, loaded up on snacks, and saw an action movie at the theater.”

  “How is that not what I thought?” Jole asked.

  “It was just two friends hanging out.”

  “Sounds a lot like a date to me.”

  Estelle rolled her eyes. “There’s nothing romantic there.”

  “Yet,” Jole mumbled. “If he looks anything like the bikers on the TV shows, I wouldn’t blame you for hitting that.”

  “Jolene!”

  Jole laughed. “I’m not giving up on my mission of getting you laid.”

  “It’ll happen when it’s meant to and not before. The last thing I need to do is freeze during the act, or burst into tears. I’ll steer clear of that until I’m more stable.”

  “What? Crazy sex is the best,” Jole deadpanned.

  Estelle snickered, and the tension between them broke. The argument wasn’t over. Jolene wasn’t the type to back down immediately when she felt strongly about something. For now, however, they were okay.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Snake

  He didn’t recognize the tan man with a greying buzz cut and a face full of salt and pepper stubble. The white outfit took care of that. He leaned against his car parked up the street and watched as he went through the process of shutting down the store. He closed alone today. Cracking his knuckles, he watched his sure, rigid movements. This was a man who liked to be in control and maybe had some military training. No one else wore a high and tight. Unless he’s a want to be soldier. The main lights turned off, and the beast inside him lifted his nose and scented the air with glee. Soon he’d be allowed to take his pound of flesh. Pushing away from the car, he made his way to the back of the store. Every day like clockwork the man closed the store down in fifteen minutes, slipped out of the back exit to his late model truck, and went home alone.

  The black van held Sharp and Sick. If they couldn’t get the info out of Hiram, no one could. But he’d take his time and work him over for the hell of it first. He prayed he was tight-lipped, so he could stretch the experience as far as it would go. Endgame was the ground. They couldn’t have any loose ends flapping in the wind. He quietly made his way to stand beside the door. The amazing thing about small towns was their lack of electronics. They felt so safe here. They didn’t spend money on cameras and fancy alarm systems, which made this entire thing so much easier.

  Minutes stretched like taffy as he rested against the brick wall. The knob turned, and the hinges creaked when the door opened. He pounced, grabbed Hiram by the neck, and slammed him into the brick wall. The man groaned and jerked, but Snake tightened his hold.

  “Please try to get away so I can break your worthless neck.”

  “Money’s in the register,” he croaked.

  “Not your money I’m interested in. You and I are going to take a little walk down memory lane.” Snake stepped back pulling him along. “You make so much as a peep, and I’m not going to care about the talk we need to have. Nod if you understand me.”

  Hiram nodded. Sick and Sharp appeared by his side.

  “You want us to take him now?”

  “No, we’re all going to go for a ride together, the way new friends should,” Snake answered. He shoved Hiram into the waiting van. “Sit down.”

  The man obeyed, and Data stepped forward, looping chains around him. He locked the ends of the chain shut with a lock, pinning his arms to his side.

  “I don’t know what your quarrel is with me, but I assure you we can work it out peaceably.”

  His voice made Snake’s stomach roll. This was the ring leader who’d egged everyone else on. He’d never forget the way he sounded. Bile rose in his throat. He felt like insects and snakes had crawled their way across his body and into the Sahara Desert of his mouth.

  “No, we can’t,” Snake promised as the door to the van closed behind him. He sank into the seat beside Hiram, unable to take his eyes off the man he’d demonized over the years. Despite his normal appearance, he saw evil that made the things the club did look like child’s play. They’d found an abandoned shed in the woods thirty miles down the road. Snake remembered the place as a hotbed for moonshine purchasing. Clearly, the still had run dry, or the cops had moved in. They set up their shop and equipment there, sure no one would hear the man scream or have a reason to come there.

  Hiram narrowed his eyes. “How do I know you, boy?”

  Gritting his teeth, Snake dug his nails into the fleshy meat of his palms. It took everything in him to remain quiet. He needed to wait until they were in the room. Blood was a bitch to get out of upholstery, and he’d promised to make sure this didn’t come back on the club.

  Snake looked over at Sharp. “Gag him.”

  They shoved a handkerchief into his mouth, and Snake closed his eyes seeing Joc and Jade behind his eyelids. Jade’s brown orbs begged him to set things right. It was the same expression he saw in his nightmares. Jocelyn remained untouched. Sweet, and unsuspecting, she always viewed him with eyes full of trust and the ultimate devotion. It ripped his heart out every single time he saw her. It’s impossible to hide from the things which live inside of you. He felt every bump in the road as they drove, never taking his gaze off the man beside him. He had a deceptive laid back vibe. Most people probably thought he couldn’t hurt a fly. Snake knew better.

  They pulled up in front of the dilapidated stone building, and he let everyone else get out first.

  “Let’s see if we can jog your memory. You may not remember me, but I’m sure you remember my wife and my daughter,” Snake said.

  The man’s brown eyes flickered with fear in the dim lighting of the van.

  “Yeah, you remember now, huh? You thought you ran me out of town with my tail between my legs, huh? Turns out I was gathering my crew. We’re back, motherfucker. You ready to face grown ass men instead of women, you cowardly fuck?” He spat on Hiram’s, face ignoring his whimpers as he stepped out.

  “Get him in the shed and string him up,” he instructed, walking inside.

  Hiram went wild, lunging out of his seat. Thrown off by the heavy iron, he stumbled and fell out, slamming his face on the van steps on his way to the blacktop below. He knew what the man assumed when he said string him up. The monster in him delighted in the man’s panic. He could make out the muffled, “I never touched them.”

  “No, you ordered it. Which makes you the worst one in my book.” Snake walked toward the building, mentally bathing in the anguish and terror pouring off the man behind him. They’d rigged up lighting, spread out a tarp, and set a chair up with handcuffs, just waiting for an occupant. Snake removed a pair of leather gloves from his hoodie and slowly pulled them on. Shutting down the moral part of his brain, he focused on his anger and pain. Sick and Sharp dragged the struggling man in. Streaks of blood ran down his swollen face. Karma’s a bitch, and she’s riding shotgun with me.

  When the man was handcuffed to the chair with his feet bound by rope, Snake stepped forward. He threw a left hook that snapped his head to the right. “That’s for my wife.” He stepped back and kicked. The heel of his steel-toed boots smashed the man’s genitals, and he let out a high-pitched screech.

  “Look at that, the little piggy’s already squealing,” Snake said.

  His brothers snickered.

  “Now that you got your memory back, we’re going to talk about friends.” He grabbed the back of his neck and pulled it back. “You know the ones I’m talking about, don’t you? I’m going to remove this gag, and you’re going
to tell me what I want to know. Anything else comes past those lips, I’m going to start cutting.” Snake removed a knife from the scabbard he wore on his hip; the tip glinted in the lighting run by a generator. He ripped the gag away and the man spat out blood. “We’re listening.”

  “Didn’t touch your babe.”

  “Wrong answer.” Snake hit him with an uppercut that snapped his head back. The man’s eyes crossed. “Let’s try this again, Hiram.”

  “Never going to tell on my brothers.”

  Snake laughed. “Damn, I was hoping you’d say that.” He cut off the sleeve of his flannel T-shirt, revealing a swastika. He gently sliced into the skin. Blood welled up from the cut. Hiram clenched his teeth.

  “Looks like we got a real tough guy,” Sharp said.

  “We’ll see about that.” Snake began the delicate work of cutting off a strip of flesh. Screams exploded from Hiram.

  He moved back to admire his handiwork.

  “Bring me the salt.”

  Sharp handed him the round canister, and he poured some into his hand, then rubbed it in the wound. Hiram bucked as he cried out. His hoarse voice wavered.

  “N-no more.”

  “What you got for me?” Snake asked, calmly carving away at more of his flesh.

  “Names.”

  Snake paused. “I’m waiting.”

  “P-Paul Smith, Jacob Sanders, a-and T.J. Perkins.”

  “I’m going to enjoy killing you. I wish you would’ve taken longer to break.”

  He gave a rusty laugh. His swollen cracked lips formed a wicked smile. “Can’t kill me, boy. I’m the only one who knows where your child is.”

  He rushed him and placed his hands around his throat. His eyes rolled into the back of his head, and breath rattled around in his throat, sounding like a balloon that sprung a leak.

  “Whoa. Wait, wait, wait,” Sharp said, pulling at his left arm as Sick pulled the right.

  He roared as he struggled against him.

  “You never found her, man. This might be legit,” Data yelled.

  Snake released the man’s throat and stumbled back.

  “What the fuck are you talking about?” Snake hissed.

  “Not dead, just rehoused. Ain’t telling you more until I’m someplace safe.”

  With that sentence, the floor fell out of his world.

  He sat on the cold concrete, thoroughly knocked on his ass. He’d never even considered her as anything other than dead. Images of a pitiful waif beaten down and jaded by human trafficking sprang forth in his mind. What the hell has she been going through all this time? Did she think I just gave her up? His stomach turned. He rose and stalked out of the shed, sucking down crisp night air to keep from losing everything in his belly. Footsteps followed him.

  “You think he’s telling the truth?” Data asked.

  “I have no clue. It could be fuck fuck games. If so, he won hands down. If he was being honest, Jesus Christ, what shape is my baby girl in?” he whispered.

  “What do you want to do?”

  “Can’t risk losing her if we off him. She’ll be lost in the wind. Fuck.” He speared his fingers through his sweat-soaked hair. “I’m too old for this shit.”

  “We need to figure out our next step. If he’s still breathing, we need to figure out where to store him.”

  “Keep him here, we’ll do shifts. I refuse to give him any comfort. If he thinks he can sway this situation in his favor, he’ll make us his bitches. We need to let him know we think he’s full of shit and keep him scared for his life.”

  “We can do that no problem, Veep.”

  “Shit. I need a minute.”

  “Take all the time you need. Sharp and Sick are introducing themselves.” Data patted his back and walked back into the shed. The noise of the torture faded into the background as he stared unseeing at the forest. What am I supposed to do with this? Any wrong move could damn his daughter. All this time he’d been drinking, fucking, and carrying on, while she’d been out there trapped. I really do not deserve something so precious. Guilt hit him like a sledgehammer to the chest. He gasped for air. The world swam. He stumbled over to a tree and leaned against it. Sweat slipped down his neck and forehead and dripped onto his black hoodie. Lord in heaven, if you’re still listening to a fuck up like me, I could use a little help. He needed to keep his shit together. Any misstep could ruin any chance he had of finding her. If he’s telling the truth. He wanted to believe him. That his Jocelyn was around somewhere, still living and breathing. They’d pick up the others, get them all hurting, talking, and ready to sell each other down the river. Then the truth would be revealed. He just needed to keep it together until that happened.

  §

  Estelle

  The abrasive jangle of her cell phone yanked her from a deep slumber. She rolled onto her side, reached out, and patted the nightstand until she grabbed the vibrating square. She pulled it into her nest of blankets and put it to her ear.

  “Hello?” she croaked.

  “Es, I need you.”

  The anxiety in his voice pushed away her sleep. “Xavier, what’s wrong?”

  “Everything. I think I fucked up big time, Es. I think my little girl’s suffering.” His words were slurred. His voice wavered.

  “No, she’s some place where pain and sorrow no longer exist.”

  “I don’t think she is. They never found her remains. How could I be so stupid? I don’t believe she died.”

  “Wait, what?” She sat up in bed, shoving the tangled locks away from her face. “What brought this self-doubt on? Where do you think she’s been this entire time?”

  “I don’t know, and that’s what kills me.”

  The sound of shattering glass made her jump. “Where are you, Xavier?” she asked, careful to keep her voice even as her sluggish sleep-laden brain woke up.

  “Nowhere fucking Kentucky.”

  “Hmm, never heard of that town,” she said, mocking playfulness. He was funny that way, opening up until he realized how much he’d said. Then he’d shut down and clam up.

  “It’s Dawson Springs, ’bout two hours out.”

  “I’m coming to you. Give me the directions.”

  “You don’t need to do that.”

  “I think I do. I don’t like the way you sound, Xavier. Support has to do its job. You’ve been there for me, now let me return the favor.”

  “Don’t think it’s a good idea, Es.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I’m taking care of something.”

  “Yeah? Well, who’s taking care of you?” she shot back, refusing to back down.

  “Don’t need someone—”

  “Clearly you do, or you wouldn’t be calling me at three o’clock in the morning. I got a bad feeling about this. I want to see you with my own eyes. Then I can sleep knowing I’m not going to wake up to bad news tomorrow. I can’t lose another person close to me.”

  “You mean that?” he asked. His hoarse voice was a rough caress.

  “I said it didn’t I?” she replied, praying she hadn’t just put her foot in her mouth.

  “Shit, Es. When did you get so damn hardcore? It’s kind of hot.” He hiccupped, and she laughed. “Listen, Es. If you come down here—”

  “When.”

  “All right, when you come down here, you have to keep it to yourself. The shit I’m in right now… I need to be able to trust you.”

  “You can.”

  “I know that deep down, but I’ve been guarded so long, I’m a bit rusty at letting down my drawbridge.”

  “You’re doing just fine, big man,” she whispered.

  “Thanks, Sprite. Here, take down this address.”

  Mentally cheering, she took down his address. “I’m throwing on clothes, and then I’ll be on my way.”

&n
bsp; “I hope neither of us lives to regret this,” he whispered.

  “I can do more than shoot darts and pools. I’m loyal and a damn good listener. My father, rake that he was, taught me to think like a man when necessary. I don’t plan on hanging around to cramp your style. I have a day of work to put in tomorrow night. But I can tell you don’t have your head on straight. I can’t have you out there like this.”

  “I never saw this coming, Es. I can’t stop asking myself questions I don’t have the answers to, running fucked up scenarios in my head. She’s my little girl. It was my job to take care of her. I failed her in the worst possible way knowing I’ve continued to do that with each day that passes.” He took a shaky breath.

  She climbed out of bed. “Hey, we don’t know anything for sure, right?”

  “No, but it’s a gut feeling—”

  “Shelve it.” Grabbing a pair of yoga pants from her dresser, she wiggled her way into them and decided to keep the oversized sleep shirt. She wasn’t trying to win any beauty contests. “I’m coming, support. You wait for me and don’t give up, you hear?”

  “Loud and clear.”

  “Good, I’m going to get off here, brew a cup of coffee, and pack a bag. Then I’m on the road.”

  “I’ll be waiting.”

  “If sleep takes you, don’t fight it. But your ass better get up to answer the door for me.”

  He laughed, and the sound was heavenly. He was moving away from that dark place she knew all too well.

  “I’ll get up. I promise.”

  They disconnected, and she rushed through the house like a mad woman, tossing things into the small black suitcase she pulled out from underneath her bed. She was in her car and on the street before she could talk herself out of anything. This wasn’t her normal, rushing off in the middle of the night to places unknown. But she couldn’t ignore the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach.

  She pulled into the motel parking lot as the sky was turning from midnight blue to purple. Killing the engine, she grabbed her bag from the passenger seat and stepped out. There were no lights on in room 306, and she wondered if she’d made the right call. Now that he had time to sober up, would he resent her presence? Too late to choke now.