by Colbie Kay
I leisurely walk up to Andrew, pull my blade out of my boot, and twirl it through my fingers. “Nah, I don’t think he does.” I quickly grab Andrew’s hand and lay it down flat on the cot. Lining the sharp edge of the knife up to his thumb, I slowly cut in, just a little at first, but enough to have him plead some more.
“No! Please, don’t do this! God, just kill me!” Tears fall down his bruised cheeks.
Enough playing. I cut through his skin, meat, and bone until his thumb is no longer attached to his hand. Blood pours out, soaking the cot.
“That would just be too easy. I’ve promised a lot of people that you would pay. Now that you’ve fucked with me, you’re gonna suffer. You beat my woman. Take a finger,” Hanger instructs, and I move to his index finger. Not wasting time, I slice it off his hand; more blood, more screams of unbearable pain, and I do it with a gleam in my eyes.
“You burned my Ol’ Lady,” Hanger yells at him.
I chop another clean off, leaving only two left.
Hanger continues telling Andrew all the ways he abused Zoey. “You took away her choices, took away her freedom. You did and said horrible things to her.”
As I remove his ring finger, Andrew pales further from loss of blood, but he’s still coherent in his pleas for me to cease my actions. Andrew’s begging doesn’t deter Hanger from going on. “You took her away from her family and friends.” The final finger on his hand comes off. Blood pools on the cot, is splattered all over me, and covers the silver of my blade. Wretched screams fill the room as his torture continues.
“Thanks, Hacker. Ripper?” Bear and Ripper trade places, and Ripper pulls his knife out. “You kicked her in her stomach, yeah?” He barely nods his swaying head. I’m surprised he’s still halfway alive. Hanger orders, “Slice him up, Ripper.” Andrew doesn’t fight anymore; he might be giving up.
Ripper walks up to him, rips his shirt open, and starts slicing into his chest, letting blood bead on the open cuts. They aren’t deep enough to kill him, because that’s Hanger’s job. Ripper gives Andrew ten good slashes across his chest and stomach before he stops.
Hanger takes his signature rope he brought with him and begins making a noose. “You still with us?” A tiny movement from Andrew answers Hanger’s question. He takes the noose, slides it down over his head, and tightens it. “You cheated on her, yeah?”
Andrew whispers quietly, “Yeah, tell her I am sorry. I did love her.”
“Yeah, that’s not gonna happen. Cut his dick off, Ripper.” Ripper gets his pants down. He has one last fight in him as he tries bucking his hips, but Bear holds him down. Ripper takes Andrew’s dick in his hand, slicing through and ripping it from his body.
Hanger tightens the pressure on the noose, cutting off his air supply. The cries, screams, and fight begin dying, as does Andrew. We stand, witnessing the life draining from his body.
The room grows quiet, his breathing stops, and his body becomes slack. Hanger did what he promised: he made him pay and made him suffer. Andrew had a slow, painful death at the hands of the Satan’s Sinners. We abide by our laws, handle shit ourselves, and if you want to fuck with one of ours then you will deal with every fuckin’ one of us. We will be happy to let you meet your maker.
A few of the prospects come down to help clean up the mess and to dispose of the body somewhere it should never be found, like deep in the woods, miles away from the compound.
I head back up, grab my bag of extra clothes that I keep here for when days like this come, and I go shower. When I’m done, I walk out to the bar and get Chatty’s attention. “Give me a bottle of whiskey.”
She stares at me with a hand on her hip. “You want the whole bottle?” Her brow arches.
“That’s what I said.” I stare back, challenging her to say more. She doesn’t; instead she grabs a bottle and slides it across the counter. I catch it in my hand, turn around, and go over to one of the couches. I take a long pull, embracing the burn in my throat from the harsh liquid.
Gunner and Candy, one of the club whores, sit on the couch with me. Gunner pulls out a bag of white powder, makes a few rails on each of her double-D tits, then Gunner and I roll up a bill each and snort the lines up our noses, letting the numbness take effect. I sit back on the couch, listening to the loud music, relaxing and sucking down the bottle of whiskey.
Candy leans over, unzips my jeans, and takes my cock into her mouth. She’s not the best I ever had, but she’s good enough that eventually I bust my load into her hot mouth, letting her swallow every drop. She pops her head up, I fix my jeans, she moves over to Gunner, and I pass the fuck out.
Chapter 3
I’ve been sitting here at our dining room table for the last two hours waiting for Stephen to walk in the front door. The long white candles in the silver holders burn shorter and shorter as the minutes tick by. The rack of lamb, steamed asparagus, and scalloped potatoes I made for us sit untouched, now cold, on the plates. The bottle of chardonnay, no longer chilled, is still full except for the two glasses I poured and had been sipping on as I waited on him.
I took a personal day from the clinic so we could spend this day together, our anniversary, but I have yet to see my husband. Our schedules are hectic, with me being a doctor and him the best defense attorney in Kansas, and even more so lately, but neither of us were supposed to be working today.
I pick up my cell phone once again just to make sure my ringtone is on; like I haven’t already checked it a million times. I go into my call log, find my last call to him ten minutes ago, and call again. It rings and rings and rings before his voice tells me to leave a message. I hang up.
The garage door off the kitchen opens and for the first time in two hours I move. My steady hand picks up my wineglass, and I take a drink of the now warm liquid. Stephen, dressed to impress in his expensive black suit and red tie, sits in the chair opposite of me. No kiss, no I’m sorry, no nothing.
“Where the hell have you been?” I keep my voice from trembling, when all I really want to do is cry.
Stephen’s cold dark eyes meet mine. “I had some work to do.” He looks down at the plate of food in front of him, grabs the white folded linen, and lays the napkin across his lap.
I stare at the man I once loved—still love—but I’m so unbelievably angry at him. “You had work to do? On our anniversary?” My brow cocks in suspicion.
I’ve often wondered if he’s actually working or if he’s spending quality time with that young blonde receptionist he has. The few times I’ve been to his office over the last year, she hasn’t given me very welcoming vibes or polite responses when I’ve spoken to her.
He picks up his fork and knife then proceeds to cut up his food. “Yes, Sierra, on our anniversary.” My brows rise at his condescending tone.
My blood begins to boil in my veins. “What could be so important you stood your own wife up? The woman you are supposed to love on the day you said I do?” I slam my fist on top of the table. “I’ve been sitting and waiting for you. I took today off like we promised we would every year when we got married.” Tears well in my eyes; hurt slams in my chest.
Stephen lays his fork and knife back down on his plate without taking one bite of food. The dark brown eyes I once found so striking connect with mine, but all I see is emptiness. “This isn’t a marriage anymore, Sierra.” His fingers run through his dark hair that has a light dusting of grey on the sides, and he lets out a deep breath of air. “It hasn’t been for quite some time. We both know that, and there’s nothing left to hang on to.” His eyes burn with his heated glare. “You want to know what was so important?” He opens his briefcase that sits on the floor next to him, pulls out a manila envelope, and holds it out for me to take. “This is what was so important.” He stares at my shaking hand, now holding the envelope.
I open it and pull the stapled stack of papers out. My eyes scan
over the words as tears blur my vision; his signature is at the bottom of each page. Looking up, I blink rapidly, trying to hold the tears at bay, but a few trail down my cheeks regardless. I choke out, “You want a divorce?” My voice trembles as each word leaves my shaking lips.
He sighs heavily. “Yes.”
“You want to quit after twenty-plus years together?” Our marriage replays in my head like a movie I’ve watched a thousand times. Have things really gotten that bad? Can it not be fixed? Is it not worth fighting for? Yes, it’s gotten that bad, but I’m not ready to just give up. Over the last year I have tried to make it better, but Stephen’s the one that’s pulled away. This has completely caught me off guard.
His tone is hushed as he breathes, “We barely see each other.”
My fists hit the table once again. “That’s a bullshit excuse! Over the last year I’ve tried, and you keep pushing me away.”
“It’s harder now.” He shrugs his shoulder and I know. I know the reason.
“Just fucking say it.” My lip curls up in disgust.
He grabs the napkin off his lap and throws it onto his untouched plate. “Fine, this isn’t what I signed up for.”
Calmly, I stare at the man I vowed to spend my life with, and see nothing but contempt. “Get out. Get the fuck out and don’t come back.”
Stephen grabs his briefcase, walks back through the kitchen, and slams the garage door shut. Rage builds inside of me, and I pick up the wine bottle. As hard as I can, I throw it through the kitchen; my aim is the door he just walked through, but it shatters on the floor before making it that far. I grab one glass after the other, throwing them as well, smashing them against the wall. I repeat my actions until I’ve cleared the dining room table and left my kitchen a disaster. Violent screams rip from my chest, my body shakes, and tears rack through me.
“Sierra?” Cash’s voice cuts through my breakdown.
Oh, God! I can’t bear to look at him, so I sit back in my chair with my hands covering my face. “It’s okay, go back to bed.”
“Are you sure? Are you okay?” His worried tone makes my heart break even more. I have to be strong for him.
“Everything is fine, I promise. Go back to bed while I clean up.” I wipe the tears from my eyes and sniffle.
“Goodnight. I love you.” My bottom lip trembles at his words.
“I love you, too, Cash.” When I know he’s gone, I start to clean up the mess I made, telling myself, “Tomorrow will be a better day and this won’t break you. You’ve been broken twice, but never again.”
Getting the last of my mess cleaned up, I put the broom and dustpan back in their place and get my tears dried up when my phone begins to ring. I don’t bother looking at who it is.
“Hello?”
“Sierra, I need you to come to the Sinners’ compound to check me and the baby.”
My brows pull down. “Jacey?” I question, worried something has happened. I’m not supposed to see her for a couple more weeks. “Why? What’s wrong?” I gather my belongings quickly.
“No questions, please. I think we’re both fine, but Bear wants to make sure. I’ll text you the address.” She hangs up before I can reply, but within a few seconds my phone alerts me of a new text. I’ll check it in the car.
I go to Cash’s room and poke my head in. “Hey, I have to go check on a patient. If you need anything, get Shelly or call me.”
“Okay.” He smiles. I love my nephew so much and he’s growing into such an awesome boy, but it makes me sad how fast time goes by. He’s seven now and such a smart child, but it doesn’t feel like he should be that old already. I blow him a kiss, he pretends to catch it, and I shut his door. With quick strides, I get to my SUV and take off for the clinic.
Pulling up in the front of the building, I make sure no one is here. All the lights are off, so I should be alone. I go to the ultrasound room and unhook the sonogram machine then grab some gel. Carefully, I push the machine to my Navigator, pop the trunk, and as easily as I can, I lift the machine into the back then shut the trunk. Once I’m in the driver’s seat, I pull my phone out of my purse and check the text message. I know where I’m going! I put my phone down, start up the SUV, and drive to my destination.
I wait at the closed gate while a young man comes to my window.
“Why you here?” he asks with a powerful tone.
“I’m here to see Jacey.”
“Who are you?”
“Dr. Sierra Greene.” No chit-chattin’ with this guy, it’s quick, short, and to the point. I kind of like it and it makes me grin a little.
“Come on in, they said you’d be showin’ up.”
I wait for him to open the gate before driving in, and park as close as I can to the door, but there’s a ton of motorcycles lined up.
Shutting down my Navigator, I pop the trunk, get out, and walk to the back of my SUV. I carefully pull the sonogram machine out and gently pull it with me as I begin walking to the front door.
The lights are dimmed, it reeks of smoke, and loud music surrounds me. I look around, taking it all in: the bar, the topless women, the rough-looking men with their tattoos, vests, and boots. I’m so out of my element here, but I can’t worry about that until…
My eyes land on a man I never thought I’d see again. I only met him once before, but I will never forget his face or the eyes staring back at me. He’s aged over the years, now has a beard and more tattoos, but still has those same hard features, that same leather vest, and those same cold dead eyes. The color drains out of me as his eyes grow in surprise, his face reddening with anger. He recognizes me, too. This isn’t good! I shouldn’t be here. I’m frozen, not knowing what to do.
“Dr. Greene?” I hear to my left.
“What?” I snap, then turn and realize who said it, remembering why I’m here. “Oh, right, Bear. Where’s Jacey?”
He nods towards a hallway. “She’s this way.” I follow his lead, and he looks over his shoulder at me. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. Just a little jumpy, is all.” I give him my best fake smile to try and ease the discomfort.
A shout can be heard over the loud music. “What the fuck is she doing here?” I stop, close my eyes, and take a few deep breaths to keep from running back out the door.
“Hey, is there somethin’ I should know about?” Bear asks.
“No, it’s fine.” I recover once again. “I’m just not his favorite person.” I try playing it cool, but I was sugarcoating it—that man hates me. And apparently his blame hasn’t lessened any with time.
He nods and opens the door in front of us. “Lil Mama,” he says quietly, using the nickname he gave her.
“Hmm?” she questions, sounding exhausted. I wonder what happened.
“Dr. Greene’s here,” he replies.
Jacey rolls to her side. “Hey, Sierra.” She smiles kindly. “How are you?”
I walk to the side of the bed, leaving the machine at the end. “I’m good, worried about you, though. What’s going on?”
“I had an accident.” Her eyes tell me not to ask questions, just like she told me on the phone. “Bear just wants to make sure that everything’s good with me and the baby.” She repeats her words again.
“Okay.” I nod. I’ve seen the way he is with her, so I don’t believe there is any worry that he would be the cause of her accident—not on purpose, at least. “Let’s find out. I brought a sonogram machine with me so we can see the baby. I believe you’re close enough to find out the sex, if you want.” I get the machine set up, have Bear turn the light off, and lift Jacey’s shirt so I can put the gel on her growing belly.
They gaze at each other with smiles and all the love in the world, and then nod. I move the wand around on her belly. “Okay, it looks like she’s being cooperative. Congratulations!
Her heartbeat is strong.” A ping of jealousy hits me, but I shake it off.
I love being an OBGYN, but never having the experience of being a mom myself…sometimes it gets to me. At least I get to be there watching Cash grow up. Stephen never wanted kids, and I really hadn’t thought about it until it was too late. Our careers were always at the forefront and we wanted to keep climbing the ladder of success. Now I’m divorced in my mid-forties and it all seems so pointless.
“It’s a girl? We’re having a fuckin’ girl?” Bear asks, suddenly looking scared and nervous; his question cuts through my thoughts. It’s a common reaction at first for some expecting dads.
“Yep, you sure are,” I reply with a smirk, shut down the machine, and turn the light back on. “Do you have a washcloth to wipe her stomach?”
“Lil Mama, we’re having a fuckin’ girl!” Bear exclaims with saucer-sized eyes.
Jacey laughs. “Yeah, Bear, I heard her. Can you get me a washcloth?” Bear walks out of the room. I hand her the sonogram pictures.
When he returns they look over the pictures, in awe of the daughter they’ll be meeting, while I wipe the gel off her. I’m happy he’s with her through this pregnancy because he didn’t get the chance with their son. I set the washcloth on the bed next to her.
He tries to compose his surprise. “So…everything’s good with her and the baby?”
Confirming, I reply, “Yes, everything’s great with the baby. I’ll check Jacey over real quick.” I check all of her vitals, and everything’s normal. “All of your vitals are great, so it looks like you both are perfectly healthy.”
“Thank you so much, doctor!” Bear relaxes some.
“Bear, please call me Sierra. If you guys need anything else, don’t hesitate to call me. Other than that, I will see you at your scheduled appointment in a couple weeks.”