by K E Osborn
Surge places his hand on Torque’s shoulder. “Maybe we should end it and try to find another way.”
Torque’s brows furrow knowing this has been a waste of time, but he gives me the nod, and I turn toward the underling and raise my Katana to my eye level looking down the length of the blade.
He closes his eyes letting out a long breath. “May my death be swift, and my legacy be long.”
I smirk. “Wrong… your death will be long, and no one is even going to know where you have gone,” I state.
His eyes flick open as he understands my words. We’re not going to give his lifeless body back to the Yakuza. We’ll dump him where no one will ever find him. We won’t let them make a martyr out of him for a cause he had no part of. No, he won’t be honored or remembered for his sacrifice to the cause. He simply will have vanished. Possibly being seen as a traitor to the cause.
These thoughts will be running through his mind as I bring my Katana up and rush the blade down and through the side of his abdomen. He lets out a long drawn out wail as the blade pierces through him swiftly, the sharpness making it easy to slice through the muscle, but I don’t go through all the way. No. Just enough to rupture some organs. Just enough to do some damage to make his death slow and painful as he bleeds out in our silver chair. He slumps over as I withdraw my blade, blood pools from the wound along with some bodily entrails as he gasps out, his body shuddering under his impending death.
Finally looking into two scared eyes, I bend down. “There’s no honor in your death,” I spit at him as he shakes uncontrollably, his body shutting down before me.
We all stand back and watch him slowly wither away. The pain crippling him. He can’t talk, he can’t do anything other than bleed out all over our plastic-covered floor.
Surge turns to Torque.
“We need to fuckin’ find something on these assholes fast. We need someone on our side. Fucked if I know how we’re going to get out of this, but we need to figure it out and damn fast.” Torque shakes his head and turns for the door, but then turns back as the muffled moans from the underling echo through the dank room. “I’m gonna get Ace working, see if he can figure anything out we’re missing. Surely, there’s fuckin’ something. Somewhere they must’ve slipped up, and we can use it against them. There’s gotta be fuckin’ something.” He runs his fingers through his hair and turns toward the door to walk away.
I look to Trax and notice he’s watching the eyes of the underling closely. It’s like he’s studying him, watching the moments of death like it’s the most fascinating thing in the world to him.
He turns to me, and I pat his back. “Thanks for including me, brother. It was fucking good to let off some steam.”
I exhale and nod. “Don’t get too caught up in the bloodlust, Trax… there’s a fine balance between knowing when to stop and becoming addicted. If the addiction takes hold, that’s when lines are blurred, and it can… become a problem.”
He screws his face up and tilts his head like he’s confused. “What the hell do you mean?”
“If the addiction for bloodlust takes over, you go looking for it… then you start killing for fun. Do you hear what I’m saying?”
He jolts back in shock, his eyes widening. “Whoa hey, you think I could turn into something like a serial killer? You know I only kill for the club, Sensei. I wouldn’t kill for… fun… would I?”
I rest my hand on his shoulder and look calmly into his eyes. “You can control everything, you just have to want to.”
He takes a deep breath and nods like a switch is flicking inside of his brain that maybe hearing he’s heading down a dark and dangerous road, and maybe I’ve alerted him to just how real it was getting.
He rubs the back of his neck. “How do you flick it off?”
“You concentrate on the task at hand. Don’t get caught up in how good the feeling is of hurting someone who has wronged you, or how powerful you feel when you slice a blade through their flesh. When those feelings overwhelm you, you need to reel it in. You have to focus on what you’re there for… and that’s purely to gain the information you need. The kill is not important, the information is, and how you get that information is imperative.
“It’s not about causing pain, but about maximizing anxiety so they will crack and tell you what you need... if they won’t, you end it. Plain and simple. Even though every part of you wants to drag it out, make the pain last longer, drag out every scream, every morsel of pain you can extract from them, especially when they have wronged you. But you can’t. Not men like us, Trax. It’s a fine line, and we walk it every fucking time we enter the Chamber.”
He nods like he’s understanding me, which I hope he is because I’ve trained for years to keep myself in line. To know my limits. I know my appetite for blood. It’s part of why the typhoon inside of me swirls at such a vast rate of knots. I am a tormented man, and the beast inside of me needs to be let out on occasion. That’s why Torque wanted me for the club’s torturer. But I can see Trax is probably going to have to be my second. I see me in him, and if I don’t step in and get him under control, we could lose him to himself. He needs to be taught self-control in all matters, and perhaps this is what he’s needing right now.
The underling gurgles and takes one last gasp for air making us both turn to look at him as his body sags and slumps in the silver chair, all life leaving his soulless body. I let out a heavy sigh.
Trax shakes his head and grunts. “I can’t believe he didn’t talk.”
I shrug. “Aiko has trained his men well. I should have known better. I should have known no matter who we took… none of them would say anything against their Oyabun.”
“Fuckers,” Trax grunts kicking the underling in the shin. “Can I ask you something?” Trax’s voice is low like he’s unsure of how to proceed with the conversation.
I glance at him and nod. “Of course.”
“Do you remember Mylee?”
Straining my brain, I try to think of the name. “The woman who you hung out with a while back?”
He nods. “Yeah, I think about her.”
I smile raising my brow. It’s weird him opening up to me about this. I didn’t think of Trax as a sharer. “Why did she leave?”
He rubs the back of his neck and sighs. “It’s complicated, but I didn’t want her to go. I thought this life was for her. I thought she would be my Old Lady, man. I just…” he pauses. “With Sass, do you think she’s Old Lady material?”
I’m taken a little by surprise. Though a slow smile creeps up on my face as I think that question over. “I think Sass will make a great Old Lady. Are we there yet? To be honest with you, it’s damn close.” My smile broadens just thinking about it. “But, Trax, if Mylee left, then she wasn’t ready for this life.” I sigh and look at him sternly. “You have to respect that not every woman can handle being with a biker and his lifestyle.”
He grimaces. “It’s not that, she’s fine with the lifestyle, it was… it doesn’t matter. Just, no one fucking compares, you know. Women come in and out of my bed, but no one…” he trails off looking to the floor.
“No one is her,” I reply and he looks back up to me and nods.
“She knew me… really saw through the bullshit. We spent all our time together. If not here, then at the Knights clubhouse.” He pauses looking to the floor like he’s in pain. “The thing is, Sensei, I never thought when things got tough, she’d fucking run. I would have walked over goddamned hot coals for that woman, and she…” he trails off shaking his head, his hand rubbing the back of his neck from the tension building up behind it.
I exhale stepping closer to him. “Sometimes, Trax, when people get scared, even if we care about someone deeply, we run, for fear of the other person running first.”
His eyes slowly peer up at me as he grimaces. “I would never have left her.”
I weakly smile. “Does she know that?”
He snorts. “Doesn’t even matter… I’ll never see her again.�
�
Gripping his shoulder, I look into his wounded eyes understanding where some of his pent-up rage now stems from. He’s hurting. His woman turned him down, and he still hasn’t gotten over it. And despite what he thinks, Trax is actually quite sensitive to his emotions. He obviously misses Mylee. This, plus, losing his sister-in-law, Zoey, and his father as well, he’s had a lot of loss in his life. No wonder he’s thriving on bloodlust.
I need to watch him.
Carefully.
Closely.
I need to take him under my wing.
“Let’s get this cleaned up and get upstairs to figure out what the hell we do next.”
He nods and lets out a heavy sigh, but as he looks back to the underling he smirks, like seeing him dead brings him joy.
Yes, I definitely need to watch him.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
SENSEI
We’re all sitting at the bar, it’s fucking late. The idea of going to bed crosses my mind as I sip on the last of my beer. I can’t help but think of Sass. Her cuddled up in bed sound asleep, and I wish I was next to her tonight. But I know she’s better off at home. Being here right now is a bad idea, and while things are becoming dangerous, I think maybe her staying away from the club might be in her best interests. Not away from me, just the clubhouse. I’ll have to talk to her about that without explaining why. I hope she understands. I know she’s intuitive about club business. She knows how it works, she’s been onboard with everything so far. So, I can’t imagine her kicking up a stink over not coming here at the moment if I deem it’s in her best interest.
She should be fine.
Ace slides his finger over his tablet grunting and groaning over something as he speaks to Torque. I’m done for the night, it’s been a hectic day, and I’m beat. I stand up and tip my chin to everyone in a gesture of goodnight as the alarm sounds for an incoming cop car. I tense as I look down at my jeans that have blood on them—there’s not much, but there is a slight spatter—as everyone stands up wondering what the fuck is going on. Luckily the underling’s body has been dealt with and has left the compound. Tremor and Zane are out now dumping it in our usual spot, and the Chamber’s completely spotless with no signs of anything happening in there.
I glance at Torque as he signals for all of us to huddle together, and we walk as a group out of the clubroom toward the gate where Gatekeeper signals they have pulled up. We don’t know how many of them are out there. Whether this is a raid, or simply an intimidation tactic. We have no idea what’s going on. We haven’t had the pigs here for as long as I can remember. We don’t bother them, they don’t bother us, we have a good understanding. So them being here is for a reason, I just don’t know what the hell it is, and especially this late at night.
The gate slides open, and to my relief it’s only one squad car. I can visibly see two officers as the rest of us stand in a triangle formation in preparation for whatever the hell they’re about to throw at us. Torque’s in the middle, Trax to his left, me to his right, and the rest of us fanning out like one big brotherhood, a family, a club—united we stand.
The officers both slide out of the patrol car, their postures stern, strong, as they both look over us. One is a man—tall, sturdy looking with a boyish appearance. The other, which surprises me is a female. Quite pretty, medium height, but I can tell she works out and can hold her own. She has an arrogance about her like she won’t take shit from anyone. It actually appears as if she’s the tougher one of the two as they step up to us and nod, but it’s Ace who walks forward letting out a small laugh.
“Fuck… Brody?” Ace asks, and the male cop smiles wide and nods.
“Hey, man, long time no see,” Brody replies reaching out and shaking hands with Ace, as the woman continues to look on with her stern face.
“What the hell? You’re a cop? I thought you were going to go and play league?” Ace questions, and I look to Torque who seems just as intrigued by this interaction as I am.
Brody smiles. “Yeah, that kinda got shot to hell when I tore my ACL in training one day. Did the rehab then decided I’d join the force instead. Haven’t looked back since.”
Ace shakes his head and smiles wide. “Well, fuck man, it’s so damn good to see you.”
Brody nods. “Same, man, same. You look… well, actually you look exactly the same. Still haven’t cut your damn hair.”
We all chuckle as Ace snorts and rolls his shoulders. “Ladies love the locks,” he replies, and the girl cop grunts out some sort of disapproval as we all look over at her.
Ace gives her a toothy grin as he looks her up and down.
Brody clears his throat like he’s remembered he’s here on official business. “Right, we’re here for a reason. One of your girls… Ruby Newberry was the victim of an attack at Club Modesty tonight. Is that correct?” he asks.
Torque nods. “Correct.”
“We can’t get a statement from her, just yet, she’s still unable to talk. But we would like some information from you about the incident.”
Torque creases his brows like he’s unsure how to play this. We know the Yakuza have cops on their payroll—Brody could be one of them, but he also may not be. He seems to know Ace, and if their connection is enough for the cops to help us out this one time, then maybe we should roll with that.
Torque looks at me, and I shrug slightly. He turns to Surge who does the same, and so he faces Brody and the woman cop and tilts his head toward to clubhouse. “Come on in, we have some things we need to discuss with you.”
***
We all sit at the tables Foxy describes as summer camp tables, half the club and two cops as the club girls bring drinks over. Ace sits next to Brody with his tablet.
“So, some shit’s been going down in the city. We don’t know if you’re aware of it or not, but there’s a new guy throwing his weight around,” Torque offers, and Brody narrows his eyes.
“There’s been talk around the precinct. Nothing official. Rumors of some conglomerate coming in and buying up businesses by hounding them to sell for lower than the market value. The thing is, every time I try to look into it, I’m blocked by something or someone. It’s like some cover-up’s going on, and me and Grier here…” he looks at the lady cop, “… are having a hell of a time trying to figure out who the hell these people are, and what the fuck they’re actually doing. All we know is that shit is going down, and people are covering it up.”
Torque looks at Ace who nods at him letting him know Brody’s okay. Torque then looks at me, and my instinct is to not say any more. This could be some form of test from the Ishikawa to see who we’re talking to, but right now we’re out of options, and this could be the break we need so, I nod.
Torque turns back to Brody and lets out a heavy sigh. “This goes against my better judgment, and working with the cops … no offense… is not fuckin’ my idea of things I wanna do today… but Ace, show him the footage.”
Ace nods and slides his tablet in front of Brody and presses play to show the cameras of Ruby dancing and then the Yakuza underling walking past and blatantly bumping into her hard. He zooms into where you can see him stab the needle in her arm.
Brody lets out a heavy sigh as he sits back in the chair and nods. “Okay, so we see who the guy is. The next question is why?”
“He’s a member of the Ishikawa Yakuza, and they’re here in Chicago,” Torque states, and Grier and Brody both draw their eyebrows together like they’re confused.
“Yakuza? They’ve been sanctioned out of America,” Grier finally says, her soft voice doesn’t match her hard demeanor.
I nod. “The families that were here were sanctioned and have gone. This is a new family. They have come in and kept their identity and presence under the radar so they can function and run without anyone knowing. That’s how they’re getting their… shit done. If no one knows they’re here, they can’t be sanctioned like the others,” I inform.
Grier and Brody both nod their heads.
Brody rubs his chin in a look of the heaviness of the situation. “Shit!” Brody murmurs as he glances to Ace, his obvious longtime friend. “Okay, we need to do some digging… see what we can find out, see what we can uncover. If we can expose them, then maybe we can try to get rid of them.”
Ace rolls his shoulders. “Be careful, Brody, if they catch wind of you digging, they won’t hesitate to take you out. Just look at what they did to Ruby.”
Brody nods as he looks at Grier, and she winces which shows a different side of her, a human side, to the Terminator robot I’ve seen over the past fifteen minutes.
He nods. “Right, I’ll contact Aaron the minute I hear or find anything.”
Ace snorts. “It’s Ace now, man, only my mom calls me Aaron.”
Everyone snickers except for Grier.
Brody smiles raising a brow. “Yeah, right, okay. Can’t believe you’re here, though. Out of everyone from our school days… you, the nerd, ended up in an MC?”
Ace snorts but bobs his head in understanding. “Sometimes the club life chooses you.”
We all smile knowing exactly how he feels. We all came to this club one way or another, our stories all unique and different, but we’re all bonded to the same family. No matter our background, our history, our walk of life, we’ve been accepted into this brotherhood, and this family is the best in the fucking world.
“I’m glad you found your place, Ace, I really am.” Brody stands up as he pats Grier on the shoulder.
“A cop who’s on our side. Fuck! What the hell is the world coming to?” Trax jests.
“We’re not all assholes…” he pauses with a grin. “Grier is, but she’s workable,” Brody teases, and we all pause not knowing how to take what he’s just said, while she sneers at him throwing him the bird. He laughs. “Don’t worry, she loves me.”