Holding On: Ruthless Sinners MC

by L. Wilder

  “Whatever.”

  “Oh, come on, brother.” A big, mischievous smirk crossed my brother’s unshaven face, making the bristles of his day-old beard protrude from his chin. The asshole was mocking me when he said, “You gotta admit that she’s hot.”

  “Focus, Menace.”

  “Damn, this chick has gotten all up in your head, hasn’t she?”

  “Menace,” I warned.

  “Okay, okay. Back at it.”

  Menace turned his attention to the task at hand, and it wasn’t long before he was able to connect the information from her Facebook page to confirm the identity of her parents, her friends, and where she worked. With that knowledge, he was able to locate her address, driver’s license, and medical history, and that was just the beginning. It wasn’t long before he had everything there was to know about her—including the fact that she’d only been living in Nashville for a couple of months. He was still focused on the screen when he asked, “You seeing something I don’t? ’Cause I’m not finding anything that could possibly connect her to the cop or the Punishers.”

  “Nah, man. I don’t see anything either.”

  He turned to face me as he suggested, “Maybe it’s as simple as she was at the wrong place at the wrong time.”

  “Could be, but I’ve got a feeling there’s more to it than that.”

  “I hate to say it, but I do too.” Concern marked his face as he glanced back at the screen and shook his head. “I’m afraid we’ve got big trouble coming our way with all of this.”

  “I don’t disagree.” I thought for a moment, then suggested, “Why don’t you dig into this Thomas Long guy? Maybe we can find a connection there.”

  He nodded, then got busy typing away on his laptop. He pulled up everything there was on the guy, and from what we could tell, he’d been investigating several guys within the metro unit. Other than that, there wasn’t much on the guy. Menace shook his head as he said, “I don’t know, Shotgun. Everything from his track record with the force to his bank accounts makes it look like this guy is legit.”

  “What about the restaurant they mentioned on the news? You think they’ve got any security cameras?”

  “No idea, but I can look.” As he turned back to his laptop, he asked, “It was the Parlor, right?”

  “Yeah, that’s it.”

  I waited for several minutes, hoping he’d be able to come up with something. Eventually, he looked over to me and said, “Sorry, man. Looks like someone fucked with it. No feed whatsoever from the night of the attack.”

  “Fuck.”

  “I don’t know about you, but I think it’s time to track down Drake and Alfonzo.”

  “Agreed.”

  “I’ll go talk to Prez as soon as I find their location. If I can run them down, I’ll get with Viper and check with him about bringing them in.”

  “Sounds good.” I stood up and started towards the door. “While you’re doing that, I’m gonna go back and talk to Remington. See if she’s remembered anything.”

  “That would be good, but yeah. Try and go easy on her.”

  “This isn’t my first rodeo, brother.”

  “I’m well aware, but this isn’t the kind of thing you usually deal with. This isn’t some asshole who tried to fuck with the club. You can’t torture her or threaten her like you do them. You push this girl too hard and she’s liable to freak out, and we’ll never get anything out of her.” Before I had a chance to respond, he continued, “I know this is your job and all, but considering everything that’s happened to her, I’d start with the basic stuff like who her friends are and work. And who knows? Maybe it’ll trigger something.”

  “I got this, brother. Don’t worry.”

  He gave me a nod, then turned his focus back to his computer. Giving him some room to work, I left his room and started down the hall. I thought about what he’d said about handling Remington, and even though I wasn’t eager to admit it, I knew he was right. I was a man who tortured and used mind manipulation to get the information I needed, but that wouldn’t work in this situation. She’d already been beaten to hell, and the last thing I wanted to do was cause her even more trauma. I needed to do my best to keep a level head, remember what she’d been through, and at the same time, get her to tell me what I needed to know. Sadly, I had no idea how the fuck I was supposed to do that. There was so much about dealing with her that had already been difficult, and something told me that this would be the hardest thing yet.

  I was about to reach the infirmary when Rafe called out to me, “Yo, Shotgun. You got a minute?”

  “Yeah, brother.” I stopped and turned to face him. “What’s going on?”

  “I need your advice on something.” He paused for a moment, like he was second-guessing coming to me, then sighed. “I would’ve gone to Hawk, but I’m not sure he’d be much help because of Delilah and all.”

  “Got no idea what you’re talking about, brother.”

  “It’s about Krissy. You know, Delilah’s friend from the other night.”

  “Yeah? What about her?”

  “You know the other night when she came to the clubhouse?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Well, I guess you could say we hooked up, and we had a damn good time.”

  Rafe was a good guy, often soft-hearted and an overthinker. Something I was not. I also wasn’t one to have more than a quick fix with a woman. As far as I was concerned, relationships were a no-go. I had no idea why he’d come to me for advice, especially over a female, but he had all the same. I wasn’t sure what he was getting at, so I asked, “So, what’s the problem?”

  “I thought we were both on the same page but”—his brows furrowed into a grimace—“I think she’s interested in more than I bargained for. I don’t want to hurt her feelings or whatever, but damn, she’s been calling and texting like we got something going on.”

  I could see Rafe was honestly concerned, and I felt a twinge of sympathy for him, but that was quickly overridden after I’d realized that I won my fifty bucks. I swallowed my smile, then said, “Just be straight with her.”

  “Yeah, but Hawk’s gonna be all kinds of pissed if this chick gets pissed.”

  “That’s why you don’t shit where you eat, brother.”

  “You’re not wrong there.”

  “What’s done is done. Tell them both what’s up and move on.”

  “You’re right. I will.” His expression turned serious as he asked, “You find out any more about the girl?”

  “Not much, but we’re gettin’ there. This whole thing is all kinds of fucked up.”

  “I saw the news. She’s plastered all over the place.”

  “I know. Seems everybody’s looking for her, and it’s not helping a damn thing.”

  “Well, whoever left her for dead in our dumpster has to know the cops didn’t find her there. If I had to guess, I’d say they’re out there looking for her, too.”

  “Exactly.” I ran my hand through my hair and grumbled, “I just need to know what the fuck happened that night, and as far as I can tell, she’s the only one who really knows what went down.”

  “I’m sure you’ll find a way to get her to talking.”

  I shrugged. “She can’t tell me what she can’t remember.”

  “Well then, you just gotta find a way to make her remember. I got faith in you, brother. You’ll do it.” As Rafe turned to leave, he said, “If there’s anything I can do to help, you know where to find me.”

  Once he’d walked away, I continued towards the infirmary, but when I walked inside, I was surprised to find it empty. Knowing she couldn’t have gotten far, I rushed back into the hall and was about to go find Doc when he stepped out of one of the vacant rooms. Without giving him a chance to speak, I asked, “Where’s Remington?”

  “I moved her.” He motioned his head behind him. Before I could ask him why, he told me, “I thought she’d be more comfortable.”

  “Viper know?”

  “Of course.�
��

  “Good.” I looked over to the door. “How’s she doing?”

  “Better. She’s eaten a little, and I’ve given her some ice packs for the swelling.” I could see the concern in his eyes when he added, “She’s resting.”

  It was clear by his tone that he didn’t think I should disturb her, but I had no choice. Reaching for the doorknob, I assured him, “Then, I’ll try to keep it short.”

  Without giving him a chance to argue, I stepped inside and closed the door behind me. Remington was lying on the bed with an ice pack over her left eye, and she was wearing the clothes I’d given Doc for her to borrow. They were way too big for her, but fuck, she looked all kinds of good in them. While the swelling in her eye was a little better from the day before, they were both still black and blue, and several large gashes and bruises marked her face. Remington pulled the comforter up, nervously covering her chest, as she mumbled, “You’re back.”

  “I am.” She never took her gaze off of me as I walked into the center of the room. Damn. Something about the way she was watching me made it hard to decide if she was scared of me or into me. She wasn’t the first woman to look at me like that. I was done taking chances on getting my heart ripped out, so depending on the girl, I’d either fuck them good and hard or steer clear. I could tell that Remington wasn’t the fuck ’em-and-leave ’em kind of girl, so it was best she stay as far away from me as possible, and I needed to do the same with her. Unfortunately, that wasn’t possible—at least not yet. I walked over to the desk and brought the chair next to the edge of the bed, then sat down. “We need to talk about the night of the attack.”

  “I already told you. I don’t remember anything from what happened that night.”

  “Then, why don’t we start with some things you do remember.” I crossed my arms and leaned back in the chair. “We’ll start with the basics.”

  “Like?”

  “How about, where do you live?”

  “In an apartment a few blocks away from work.”

  “And a roommate?”

  “No, I live alone.”

  “What about friends or family?”

  “Yes.”

  “Gonna need you to give me more than that.”

  “I don’t know what you’re wanting from me with all this.”

  I didn’t respond. Instead, I just sat there studying her. I’d seen all the information Menace had pulled up on her. I knew she was a smart girl. Hell, I was almost afraid that she was too smart. I didn’t want to make things harder for her than they already were, but it was my job. I’d been placed as the club’s enforcer for a reason. My brothers expected me to get any information we needed; I’d never once let them down and wasn’t going to start now. That didn’t mean I felt any less guilty for pressing her like I was. I could see the anguish in her eyes, the tension in her shoulders as she sat there glaring back at me, but I remained silent, in hopes that’d be enough to get her to talk.

  After a brief staring contest, she finally sighed and said, “Fine. My parents are both still alive and living in Franklin where I grew up. We’re pretty close. I talk to them all the time. As far as friends go, I don’t have many. I’ve only lived in Nashville for a few months, but I’ve gotten pretty close to a girl at work. Her name is Madeline.”

  “What about a boyfriend?”

  “No.”

  “So, you’re not involved with anyone?”

  “What does my relationship status have to do with anything?” she sassed.

  Whether she had a boyfriend or not was irrelevant, but for reasons I couldn’t explain, I was compelled to press her for a definite answer. “Just answer the question, Remington.”

  “I already said no.” She cocked her eyebrow. “I don’t have a boyfriend. Just to be clear, I’m not involved with anyone whatsoever, and I haven’t been for a long time. Does that answer your question?”

  “Yes. Yes, it does.” Without wasting any time, I asked, “Where do you work?”

  “Davis and Cole. It’s a marketing firm downtown.”

  “How long have you worked there?”

  Her eyes narrowed as she asked, “Do you need an exact length of time, or is it okay to say a few months?”

  She was aggravated with me, and rightly so. I was being a dick, and I knew it. Even though I could see the fatigue in her eyes, the dried blood on her forehead and arms, I just couldn’t calm the interrogator in me. Hell, it was engrained in me and couldn’t simply be turned off—even when I wanted to. I wished I was like Doc, calm and cool, making her feel at ease, but I’d be no help to her or my brothers if I didn’t get the intel I needed. I knew I hadn’t crossed any lines, and she was still capable of moving forward, so I ignored her hostile tone and said, “A few months will do.”

  “Anything else?”

  “What do you remember about the day of the attack?”

  “Nothing. It’s all still a damn blur.”

  “I know this isn’t easy, but I can’t help you unless I know what happened.”

  “I’m trying.”

  Her eyes drifted over to me, and the vulnerable look got me right in the gut. I had to remember that this was all part of the game, although I didn’t know what role she played in it. She was still just a pawn, a play waiting to be made and nothing more—or so I thought.

  Remington

  At first, I thought that Shotgun was only trying to help figure out who’d hurt me, but with each question he asked, I found myself wondering if there was something else going on. For a moment, I actually got the feeling that he was kind of interested in me, especially when he kept asking if I was involved with someone. I knew it was crazy to have such thoughts. He was this sexy, hot biker guy who could get any woman he wanted, and I was a hot mess. I could only imagine how horrible I must’ve looked. I glanced down at my hand and cringed at the sight of the dried blood on my wrist and forearm. I lifted my hands up to my face, gently brushing them over all the bumps and scratches, and every inch felt tight and tender. Curious to see how bad it really was, I looked over to Shotgun and asked, “Can I have a mirror?”

  “What?”

  “A mirror,” I pushed. I knew he was eager to find out what I could remember about the other night, but at that moment, my focus was set on seeing just how badly I looked. “Can I see a mirror?”

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  Shotgun seemed like the kind of man who’d seen a fight or two in his time, so the tone in his voice made it clear that it was even worse than I thought. He might’ve been trying to protect me, but I needed to know. “Please.”

  “I don’t see what good it’ll do but suit yourself.”

  He got up and stepped into the bathroom. Moments later, he returned with a small pocket mirror. He held it in his hand for several seconds before finally offering it to me. I took a few moments to muster the courage before I finally opened it up. Gasping at my reflection, I couldn’t believe what was staring back at me. My entire face was covered in bumps and bruises, but my left eye was the worst. It was almost swollen shut with deep, dark bruises beneath it, making me look like I’d been in a boxing match. There was a knot on my jaw where one of the men had either punched or kicked me and another huge one on my forehead. My hair was matted down with dried blood with even more down my neck. I couldn’t have looked worse if I’d been in a horrible car wreck. I quickly closed the mirror and tossed it on the bed, then dropped my head into my hands.

  I tried to fight back my tears, but I just couldn’t. I was too overwhelmed by what I’d seen, and it wasn’t long before I was sobbing uncontrollably. Up to this point, Shotgun hadn’t exactly been comforting about my wounds, so I was surprised when I felt his arm slip around me. He gently pulled me to his side, and his voice was soft and soothing. “It’s gonna be okay. It’s just some scrapes and bruises. They’ll go away.”

  “Why would someone do this to me?”

  “I don’t know, but I intend to find out.” His voice was filled with determination as
he continued, “And when I do, I’ll make them pay. I promise you that.”

  “Why are you helping me?” I leaned back so I could see his face. “You don’t even know me.”

  “I’m not gonna lie.” He removed his arm from my shoulder and stood. “It’s not only about you.”

  “Then, what else is it about? Do you know who did this to me?”

  “Yes, but I can’t really get into all that. Just know that I’m gonna do whatever I can to find these guys.”

  Even though he couldn’t tell me exactly why he was taking it upon himself to help me, I believed him when he said he’d find the men who’d hurt me. I had no idea what he’d do when he found them, but something told me it wouldn’t be good. I didn’t care. I was just relieved to know that he was on my side. As I wiped the tears from my cheek, I whispered, “Thank you. Thank you for everything.”

  “No need to thank me.” He gave me a slight chuckle. “I haven’t found them yet.”

  “But you will.” I glanced down, and once again, noted the dried blood on my wrist. Seeing it reminded me of just how awful I looked, and I couldn’t stand it a moment longer. “Do you think we could take a break for a few minutes so I could get cleaned up?”

  “Yeah, we can take a break, but I’m not sure about your stitches.” His brows furrowed with concern. “Don’t think you should get them wet.”

  “I don’t have to take a full-blown shower or anything.” I lifted my hand to show him. “I just want to get some of this blood off me and maybe wash my hair.”

  “You think you can make it to the bathroom?”

  “If you help me I can.”

  He nodded, then leaned down and gently picked me up, carrying me into the bathroom. As he lowered my feet to the floor, he said, “There are some washcloths in the cabinet.”

  “Okay.”

  “You want me to get you a change of clothes?”

  I glanced down at the t-shirt and sleep pants I was wearing, and even though they were way too big, both felt comfortable. I shook my head and said, “These are fine.”