He wouldn’t stop until the need for revenge was gone, until the rage had disappeared.
Until he could think clearly again.
The leather became slippery from the sweat of his palm and Vernon’s blood, but he only adjusted his grip and continued.
Until his arm felt like lead, his fingers were cramped, his heartbeat had slowed and his breathing had steadied, following the cadence of the never-ending strikes.
And still... he didn’t stop.
He wasn’t going to stop until he couldn’t lift his arm any more.
Until he could see clearly, until he could hear clearly.
But right now his vision was nothing but a pinpoint, his ears still ringing.
Nothing else existed but him, his belt and the flesh before him.
Chapter Twenty
“Sig!”
Sig’s arm raised.
“Brother!”
His arm fell and a warm spray splattered him.
“Sig!”
It raised again.
“Jesus fuck!”
The belt was yanked from his fingers and he didn’t have the strength to fight whoever it was.
Then someone was grabbing him and yanking him away from his target.
He wasn’t done.
Not yet.
Not fucking yet.
Why was someone stopping him?
He blinked when hands grabbed his face and another appeared within his narrowed vision.
Trip.
“Sig!” His brother’s face was pale, his eyes holding a deep worry, maybe even a little fear.
Maybe something was wrong with Red.
“Fuckin’ Sig, breathe. Breathe, brother.”
He was breathing, wasn’t he?
Trip’s face remained in his and Sig concentrated on his brother’s moving mouth. “Sig, breathe, damn it!”
Sig forced out, “Not done.”
“Jesus Christ, you’re done. You broke your belt. You sliced him to the bone, Sig. You’ve filleted the fucker open a few times over.”
Sig breathed.
And breathed again.
He concentrated hard on his brother’s face.
The brother who he’d thought was his best friend so long ago and would be forever. The brother who’d offered him a place to land. A place to keep his shit together and his ass out of jail. A family.
He frowned, then turned his head to look at the bench. What used to be whole no longer was. Nothing but bloody and shredded flesh remained.
But he hoped Vernon Shirley was still breathing.
He hoped that fucker felt every strike.
“He breathin’?” Sig asked, his voice sounding strangely flat and as if coming from a distance.
“Don’t know. If you’re worried ‘bout that, slice his fuckin’ throat and let’s go. We need to get the fuck outta here.” Trip dropped the grip on Sig’s face, dug a knife out of his cut and offered it to him.
Sig watched his own fingers wrap around it like they belonged to someone else.
He wasn’t slicing that motherfucker’s throat. Fuck no.
Sig tightened his blood-covered fingers around the hilt of the large knife and frowned as he stared at it in his hands.
No, he wasn’t slicing that fucker’s throat.
He blinked and turned to where Deacon still stood with a tight hold on Anna. His arm was hooked around her throat and one hand had a tight hold in her hair, forcing her to keep her head up. Forcing her to watch.
Deke had done what he’d asked.
He’d done it and didn’t pussy out.
He gave Deke a slight nod and the club’s treasurer gave him one back.
Even if the man wasn’t comfortable with it, he did it.
For Sig.
For Red.
That right there earned him a fuck-ton of respect. And Sig would never forget it.
He stepped closer to the back of the bench and dug his hand into what was left of Vernon’s gaping blood-soaked jeans. He found the fucker’s dick and balls with his left hand and, with a yank, exposed them, then sawed them the fuck off with the serrated buck knife in his right.
“Let the fucker bleed out if he’s still breathin’,” he said softly.
“We gotta get the fuck out of here, brother. Need to let the rest of the women and children go and Autumn had to go to the hospital. Think she went into labor.”
Sig heard him, and he tried to process the words, but he wasn’t done there yet. “Need to make sure Red and that kid’s safe first.”
“Thinkin’ we made a clear statement.”
“No. We didn’t. Not yet.”
“Fuck, Sig,” his brother muttered, closing his eyes and shaking his head.
Sig handed Trip his knife back and went to where Deacon stood with the wide-eyed, pale Anna.
A strangled sound came from behind the bandana that had been tied over her mouth.
“Give her to me. You can all go. Go to Red.”
“No fuckin’ way, Sig. Not leavin’ you here. Our brothers are lined up with their shields, makin’ sure no other Shirleys approach. But that doesn’t mean those fuckers might not set up and start shootin’ at us, anyway. Not sure how many of them are out there in the woods. Can’t waste any more time.”
“Not done, brother,” Sig said.
“You’re done,” Trip said more firmly. “We gotta go.”
“Need a minute.”
“Fuck,” Trip muttered and blew out a loud breath.
Sig snagged Anna’s throat within his fingers. “Let ‘er go, brother.”
Deke’s mouth got tight. “Sig...”
“Let. Her. Go.”
Deacon reluctantly released her and Sig immediately swung the bitch away from him. His lip curled in a snarl as he stared at the woman who hurt Red. The woman who made her live naked, cold and filthy in that shed for fucking months. The woman who treated Red worse than their livestock.
And if it wasn’t for being a jealous cunt, never would’ve let Red go.
He snorted a thick wad of phlegm into his mouth and spat the hocker right into her face. And as it slid down her cheek, which was wet from crying, Sig began the statement he had went up there to make. He leaned in and tightened his fingers around the front of her throat until he knew it cut off the flow of air. “How you like havin’ your fuckin’ throat squeezed like that, huh? How does a dumb twat like you like bein’ choked hard enough to leave a mark? How the fuck do you like havin’ somethin’ forced down your throat?” He lifted his fistful of Vernon’s severed genitals. “Like your husband’s dick. Would you like that? How you like the feelin’ you might pass the fuck out? You beggin’ for air yet?” He turned his head and put his ear near her gagged mouth. “Can’t hear you if you are.”
He sneered and loosened his fingers just enough so she could suck in a breath through her flaring nostrils and then he tightened them again. He wanted her to stay conscious until he had his say.
“We ever see you off this mountain,” he growled, “those fuckin’ inbred hillbilly kids of yours? Dead. You? Dead. You’ll join that motherfuckin’ uncle-husband of yours in hell. You get me?” he roared. “Nobody... No-fuckin-body’s gonna be lookin’ for some missin’ Shirleys. In fact, the world would be a better goddamn place without any of you. ‘Cause you give us a reason to come back up this mountain? We ain’t stoppin’ with just a few of you. You forget she ever existed. You forget that baby ever existed. To you all, they don’t. Any of you Shirleys see her in town, you go the opposite way. Any of you take one step toward her? You all die. Any of you try talkin’ to her? You stop breathin’ and all your snot monkeys do, too. You get me, you fuckin’ cunt?”
He waited for a sign she heard him. He loosened his fingers again slightly because her face had turned an unhealthy shade of purple, just like the color of Red’s bruises when he found her. “That a nod? Not fuckin’ sure it was. But it don’t matter. Only one correct answer. Incorrect one will cost you. Won’t be a Shirley left breathin’
.” He jabbed his finger into her temple hard and her cry was muffled. “Remember that, bitch.”
He shoved her and she fell backward. Not able to catch herself since her hands were bound behind her back, she landed on her ass. While she was down, he threw her husband’s bloody dick and balls into her lap.
“My brother learned a hard lesson once about not puttin’ his hands on a woman in anger. I watched that fuckin’ lesson and never forgot it. But you ain’t a woman. You’re a piece of fuckin’ shit that should be grateful you’re still breathin’. Because if it was up to me, you wouldn’t be.” He spat once more on her face, wiped his mouth and strode away.
He paused in front of Deacon, whose expression he couldn’t read. But the man had done what Sig asked once already, so he was pretty sure the man would do it again. “Take those cords and tie her down to that bench on top of her uncle-husband. Let ‘er think about the shit she’s done. Make sure she’s naked when you do it. Take her clothes away like she took Red’s.” Without waiting for Deke’s answer, he stopped in front of Trip. “Make sure that’s done. Headin’ to the hospital.” As he spun on his heel to head back down that mountain—one he hoped to fuck he never saw again—his brother grabbed his arm, stopping him.
Sig stared down at the hand keeping him from getting to Red.
“Need to clean up, brother. Can’t go in there lookin’ like that. It’ll raise a fuckload of red flags.”
Sig’s nostrils flared but he nodded after he took a glance down at himself. He was covered with blood and dirt. Trip was right. He needed to go to Red without the Shirley filth covering him.
“Need a ride back to the farm and my sled.”
“Rev and Whip both have their cages parked at the bottom. I’ll get one of them to take you back while we finish up and get outta here without all gettin’ shot in the fuckin’ backs.” Trip pulled his cell out of his cut and texted one of them. And after he did so, his brother lifted his head and held Sig’s eyes for the longest time.
Sig didn’t like seeing what he saw in them.
But he got it.
He fucking got it.
Trip and him had gotten the demon inside them honestly.
“Let us know if you want us all at the hospital. Up to you. Up to Red. Stella and Dodge are stayin’ at least ‘til you get there.”
Sig inhaled the night air, trying to settle his roaring blood. But that air stunk.
It stunk really fucking bad right now.
He needed to get the fuck off that mountain and get to Red. That’s what he needed to focus on right now. Not about what he’d done and what he still wanted to do.
Red needed him.
He needed her.
And he hoped to fuck she’d forgive him for letting the Shirleys steal her away.
He’d pay whatever price for that she wanted from him.
Whatever Red wanted, Red would get.
Even if it was a pound of flesh. Even if it was a ton.
His brother kept talking even though Sig was so done with it all. “Even in the dark, can see the tendons in your neck and jaw still poppin’ and the veins at your temple poundin’. After Autumn’s done at the hospital and everythin’s under control there, gonna need to have a discussion.”
He wouldn’t disagree with it because Trip was right. They did. “Yeah,” he muttered. “Need to have a discussion.”
The temporary gig with the club might be over sooner than expected. It was what it was and, if necessary, as soon as Red was good to go, so was he.
Sig was reading Stella’s last text to him as the elevator doors whooshed open. The one where she told him to hurry.
Her previous texts had given him Red’s room number at the New Beginnings Birthing Center that was attached to the hospital. This was after she had been checked out in the ER while waiting for Dr. Carly to show up.
As he stepped off the elevator, he lifted his head in time to see the doc’s husband, Matt Bryson, heading his way like a freight train, his face holding a whole bunch of unhappy.
Oh fuck.
Sig braced as the pig in street clothes yanked him by his shirt and flung him into what looked like an empty waiting area.
Sig stumbled into one of the chairs and before he hit the floor, Bryson yanked him back to his feet with a fistful of cotton and got in his face. “No fucking wonder she doesn’t want this kid. You hurt her like that, what would you do to the fucking baby?”
Dodge, who had been slouched in a chair in the corner, jumped to his feet. “Yo, dude, it wasn’t him.”
Bryson ignored him, his icy blue eyes pinned on Sig. “Wasn’t you what? Who got her pregnant or beat her the fuck up?”
Sig’s jaw shifted, his lip curled into a sneer and he barely refrained from spitting in the guy’s face. “Didn’t do fuckin’ either. Now lemme the fuck go before shit gets real.”
“She has a black fucking eye, a swollen face and a bruise on her neck. I can drag your ass in for that. All I have to do is see the marks and I have every right.”
She had what?
What the fuck! No one told him she’d been hurt like that.
He needed to get to Red but this fucking turd was blocking him, so he had to deal with him first.
His fingers coiled into tight fists, but he kept them pinned to his thighs, reminding himself if he hit this badge-wearing motherfucker it was agg assault. “Won’t be the first time I’d be accused of doin’ shit I didn’t do. Also won’t be the first time gettin’ my ass hauled in. Won’t be the fuckin’ last for either. Spent more time in a concrete box than out of it, so you threatin’ me with that shit ain’t nothin’. Can do time with one hand tied behind my back, so do what you fuckin’ need to do, pig. But you’ll be wastin’ your fuckin’ time. Now, lemme the fuck go so I can check on Red.”
Feet rushing towards them had them both pinning their lips together and Bryson released Sig’s cut when his wife in blue scrubs not-so-gently wedged herself between them, her expression not giving anyone any doubt she was pissed off.
That was when Sig noticed Stella standing not far behind Bryson and Dodge looking a bit antsy, like he was ready to jump in at any time.
Problem was, that fucker got out of prison not long ago, too. Sig was sure Dodge wasn’t anxious to go back any time soon. And fighting a pig would land them back behind bars especially since they were both on parole.
He wouldn’t be any use to Red if he ended locked up again.
“What the fuck is wrong with you two?” Carly, her eyebrows pinned together, pushed her husband back another step and jabbed a finger toward a closed door down the hall. “You think she needs to hear this shit right now?”
Carly’s head twisted and they realized hospital security was headed in their direction. She lifted up her palm and called out, “It’s okay, Sam. Everything’s okay here. Just a couple nervous fathers-to-be.”
Sig’s head jerked back and so did Bryson’s.
Sam the security guard gave her a raised eyebrow as if he didn’t believe her.
“It’s all good, Sam. I swear. I have it under control.”
“Okay, Doc, just call if you need us.”
Carly muttered under her breath to Bryson, “The day I need to call a security guard on my cop husband is the day I...” She shook her head. “Good lord, just don’t test me like that, Matt. Not today.”
“Baby,” Bryson started.
“Uh uh. No. Mouths shut. Ears open.” She turned to Sig and jabbed a finger at him. “You.” She then jabbed it at the closed door again. “You go in there and hold her damn hand and act like you’ve got a lick of sense. You.” She jabbed it at her husband, then at one of the chairs in the corner. “You go sit the hell down over there until I tell you otherwise.”
“Carly—”
She lifted a palm, her mouth tight and her blue eyes sharp. “No. Not another word. That woman in there has dealt with enough shit already without you two boneheads causing more issues. And, dear husband, you screw this adoption up for me... R
emember that fucking tent you used to sleep in? You better find it because it’ll be a long time before you’re sleeping in my bed again.”
“Baby—”
“Oh no. Nope. Today it’s Doctor to you. I’m in charge here. Not you.” She spun on Sig. “Not you, either.” She clapped her hands sharply. “Go.”
Sig gave the Bryson pig a scowl but before he moved toward the door, the doc stopped him cold.
“Sig... Was it them?” she asked him quietly. “I didn’t ask her since she needs to concentrate on other things right now.” Her head twisted sharply to Bryson. “Like giving birth to our son. And I don’t want to upset her more than she already is.”
“Them who?” Matt asked, shooting out of his chair and back to his feet. “Who fucking did that to her, if not him?”
Sig ignored the pig and met his wife’s eyes. “Yeah. They took her because they wanted that kid. Thought I could protect her better than you. They proved me wrong. She shoulda stayed with you.”
“I’m pretty sure it was her choice to stay with you,” Carly said softly.
“Yeah, but it was the wrong one.”
“It isn’t wrong for her to stay with someone who cares deeply about her. Every week I saw how she flourished by being with you. That’s why I stopped pushing for her to come stay with us. Her ordeal up there could’ve destroyed her. It didn’t. You treated her like... Like she was your queen, Sig. You treated her like none of what happened to her happened. You didn’t treat her as if she was different or broken, you treated her with love and respect. I witnessed it and it was the best thing for her. She was dealt a really horrible and shitty hand, but Sig... everything you did helped her move forward and not stay in that past. You get that, right?”
Sig’s jaw got tight.
The elevator doors opened and Trip stepped out. But it was the pig’s words that drew his attention. “What the fuck are you talking about, Carly? You said she was just a single mother who couldn’t handle having a baby right now.”
“And that’s true.”
“The fuck it is. Sounds like there’s a lot more to this than you’ve told me. I’m a fucking cop. If shit happened to her that I need to know about, someone better start talking. If we’re taking this kid, I need to know the circumstances around this pregnancy. I need to know everything.”
Blood & Bones: Sig (Blood Fury MC Book 2) Page 28