by J. L. Leslie
Desperate, he starts scrambling, getting everything together. When he stands, he appears unsure of where to take it, and Lucien points to the other end of the table. I can tell he wants to argue since his wife is being screwed by two men so close, but he doesn’t say a word.
He updates the contracts, his gaze only wavering to the scene a few feet from us a few times, and I wonder if he’s noticing the cries of pain have turned into moans of pleasure.
When the contracts are done and uploaded to the computer, Lucien tells Reid and Hatcher to stop. From the looks of it, they’re both so close to nutting they could burst, so they keep pumping a few more strokes, the three of them groaning in ecstasy.
“I want my damn wife!” Rutledge demands.
Lucien takes his arm and escorts him to the door. “We will deliver your wife safely to your home, but you won’t be seeing her again. We’ll take good care of her for you.”
Lucien gives me a glance, and I bring my gun to the back of Rutledge’s head, pulling the trigger, and blowing his fucking brains on the floor.
Wiggie and Harco take his body outside while Reid and Hatcher both zip their pants up. The woman pulls her hood off, gasping for air.
“You assholes almost suffocated me,” she complains.
“You did well,” Lucien compliments, and Janet smiles. He assures her Reid will take her back to the clubhouse for her to get cleaned up.
He might be the Revenant, but he would never be sadistic enough to rape a woman like that. Rutledge will never know that, though.
“I thought you were only going to scare him,” Janet says, making a face at the pieces of Rutledge’s brain.
“He was scared,” I reply with a grin.
Fear is a controlling beast. Now I have to unleash it on my own victim.
Mackenzie
I give up on trying to call Sabrina. Bitch won’t answer her fucking phone. It annoys me when I trust someone with a job, fuck, when Donia trusts someone with a job, and they don’t have the damn decency to answer the phone and let me know if the job was completed.
Sabrina didn’t call me this afternoon after I gave her plenty of time to let me know she made the drop, and now she won’t answer her damn phone. She’s probably off with Warren, sucking his damn dick or something.
I roll my eyes at that thought, unsure why it annoys me, and toss my remote down onto my sofa. There’s a half-eaten slice of pizza on my coffee table and three empty beer bottles. I’ve watched enough episodes of reality TV to fry my brain, so I decide to get a shower and get ready for bed. Maybe Sabrina will call while I’m in there since I won’t be waiting by the phone.
I go to my room and grab a change of clothes before heading down the hall. I plan to take a shower and hit the sack, but a noise stops me dead in my tracks.
I strain my ears to see if I hear it again. Footsteps. I put the towel down, heart pounding in my chest. I’m a damn idiot for not having any weapons in my bathroom, and now that I’m in here, I doubt I can make it to the stash I have in my bedroom.
I glance down to the counter and opt for the metal nail file. The end is sharp, so it’ll have to do. I grip it in my hand and slowly walk out of my bathroom. The lights I had on when I came in are now turned off. I blink my eyes quickly, anxious for them to adjust to the darkness.
The light streaming from the bathroom is not enough to illuminate my house. As I make my way down the hallway, I’m torn on going to my bedroom to get my gun, or to the kitchen so I can go out back and check the breaker. I don’t want to be that woman that gets scared over every noise in my house, and maybe it wasn’t even footsteps. Kitchen it is.
The moment I turn the corner, I realize I’m not alone. The flick of a cigarette lighter casts some light on the room and on Warren as he lights his cigarette, inhaling and blowing out a puff of smoke.
Sabrina sits beside him, her wrists bound, and her mouth taped shut. I suppose that explains why she never answered the phone. Tears roll from her eyes as she gives me a pleading look.
“Sorry, Warren,” I tell him. “I’m not into sharing.”
He picks up the candle on my counter and lights it, watching the flame flicker a moment before holding his palm over the flame. I know it’s burning him, but he seems to enjoy it, holding his hand there longer than I could have before dropping it down onto the counter and turning to face me.
“Maria Vanderwaal.”
“Am I supposed to know who that is?” I ask him, feigning ignorance. Of course, he doesn’t buy it.
“Tell me, Mackenzie, how much did Rutledge enjoy that handjob you gave him? He certainly seemed to enjoy ramming his cock in this one.”
Sabrina whimpers, looking at Warren. He doesn’t turn his eyes to her, keeping them focused on me.
“Turns out, Mr. Rutledge has had a change of heart,” he informs me.
That son of a bitch.
“Oh well,” I shrug as if it doesn’t bother me that we paid that asshole and probably won’t see a cent of our money returned. “That’s not the only property we’re interested in.”
“Mr. Rutledge doesn’t have any other properties to sell. They’ve all been purchased.”
“Are you telling me you were out snatching up properties instead of finding out who murdered your guy?” I ask him. “Kind of tacky, don’t you think?”
“The responsible party will be found,” he assures me, rising to his feet. He comes close enough to me that I can smell the cigarette smoke as he exhales. “Maybe I’m looking at it.”
“Oh, yes, it has to be me,” I say sarcastically. “I love raping men and bashing their heads in.”
“Nothing you do surprises me,” he replies.
“Shit, I surprise myself all the time,” I quip. “Like that time I blew you. That surprised the shit out of me.”
“I would bet you still taste my cock on your tongue,” he smirks.
“And it makes me want to fucking gag.”
He raises his gun to my mouth, shoving the barrel to my cheek. “I can give you something else to gag on.”
Fuck this. I grab the barrel and pull it to my mouth, drawing it in and licking it just like I did his fucking dick. I grip the nail file in my other hand, waiting on him to make a move so I can stab him with it.
He takes my neck in his hand, not squeezing but letting me know he could if he wanted to. Then, he removes the gun from my mouth and points it back at Sabrina, pulling the trigger and blowing her brains out all over my counter. Her body slumps and falls off the stool, collapsing to the floor.
“Tell your president we don’t take kindly to traitors. She made a deal with Lucien and failure to abide by the deal is a fate worse than what Sabrina suffered.”
He reaches for my hand and wrestles the nail file from my grasp, snapping it in half. He tosses it down on the floor beside Sabrina’s body and walks out of my back door, leaving me to clean up the mess he made.
Chapter Ten
Warren
“Is it done?” Lucien asks me, and I nod. “Good. I don’t want that looming over us when we still have to find out who killed Billy.”
“Do you think it was Hell’s Fury?”
“Possibly, but at the same time, I’m not sure they would sink to that level. They’ve dealt with that kind of pain before, losing somewhat like that. Would they inflict it on someone else?”
The same thought crossed my mind, but I’ve learned that people will do awful things in the name of righteousness. As long as it serves their purpose, they justify it.
“At least we’re able to lay him to rest today,” I say, watching the people that continue to pull up at the cemetery.
I barely knew the guy, so I had no idea he had this much family. This many people who would miss him. Makes me wonder what my own funeral will be like. I can imagine my parents being there, still wondering where they went wrong with me.
I tell myself to call them later, check in like I normally do, when I see Wiggie rushing over to us. He was sent to escort the bod
y here with Hatcher.
“I think we have a problem,” he says, nodding his head toward the hearse. “Hatcher didn’t show up.”
“He knew where to go, right?” I ask.
“Of course, he knew where the fuck to go. He never showed up, and I can’t reach him on his cell.”
“Fuck,” Lucien mutters. “See if Harco can put a trace on it.”
Wiggie leaves, and I look over to Lucien. Without him saying it out loud, I know he doesn’t believe we’ll find Hatcher alive. If he suffered the same fate as Billy, we all need to watch our fucking backs.
“We’ll get through this service and then go out on a search,” Lucien lets me know. “Let’s go lay our brother to rest first.”
I’ve been to my share of funerals, mainly for the Rykers, but I’ve never seen a woman cry so much as Billy’s mom does. If she blames any of us, she doesn’t act like it, and I’m glad about that. We have our own guilt and don’t need someone else putting more on us.
“Harco says Hatcher’s phone is pinging at the warehouse,” Lucien says. “I’m going to get Billy’s family taken care of while you and Wiggie go check it out. Call me with what you find.”
A dozen scenarios race through my mind as we ride to the warehouse. What if Hatcher isn’t the only person there? Are we walking into a trap?
We ease up on our bikes before we get there, both of us obviously thinking the same thing. We scan the area before pulling in, making sure we don’t see anyone.
I shut my engine off and get off my bike, taking my helmet off and digging for my pack of cigarettes in my pocket. I get one out and light it up as we head inside.
“Damn,” Wiggie mumbles. “Looks like he was definitely here at some point.”
He’s looking at the puddle of blood on the floor and the drag smear from the body being moved. It’s not looking good for Hatcher.
“What if it’s not his blood?” I ask, and Wiggie gives me a look, telling me not to patronize him.
If it weren’t his blood, he would answer his phone. Hell, he would have called someone to help him do a clean-up. He wouldn’t have left this mess here.
We check around a bit more, not seeing any more signs of blood or a body. We lock up, and I call Lucien with the bad news.
“What now?” Wiggie sighs, climbing onto his bike.
“We wait on his body to turn up.”
Mackenzie
Looking at my kitchen now, you would never know there was a dead body in here less than twenty-four hours ago. All of Sabrina’s brain matter has been scrubbed from my counter and walls.
I wrapped her body in an old tarp I had in my garage and then loaded her on the back of Suggs’ truck, so I could dump her. Thank goodness he let me borrow it again because I definitely didn’t want to put her in my Mustang and I sure as shit couldn’t transport her on my bike.
He told me he had some work to do and that I could have it for the day. We don’t talk about what he does, both of us pretending he’s employed with the city. It’s easier to do that than it is to have some sort of confession to each other.
He does what he does, and I do what I do. There’s no need for either of us to come clean about it.
I dumped Sabrina’s body at a construction site. The cement slab hadn’t been poured yet, so I buried her in the dirt and figure it’ll only be a few days before she’s covered up with concrete.
Then I came back and bleached every inch of my kitchen. I used so much bleach that my nose burned, but it’s spotless now. No evidence left whatsoever.
I grab my purse off the counter and make my way to the living room. If I don’t get going, I’ll be late for work. I open my door and nearly run right into Harper. I scowl at her, unsure why she’s here.
“I’m heading out to work,” I tell her, brushing past her.
“Is Donia making a move on the Sinners?” she asks me, crossing her arms.
I laugh at her. “Do you really think I would tell you if she was?”
“Mackenzie, be pissed at me all you want, but you and I both know Hell’s Fury can’t survive this. One of our prospects was murdered, and one of our members is missing.”
“That right there is exactly why we don’t trust you, Harper,” I tell her. “You said “our” and not “their” as though you’re part of that club.”
“I am,” she says to me and her words hit me hard. “I talked with Donia this morning, and she released me from Hell’s Fury. I’m no longer a part of it.”
“Did you realize you weren’t getting any intel from us to go back and tell your old man? Is that why you left?”
I should be relieved that she’s no longer part of our club, but I’m angry. So damn angry that we took her in, cared for her and Layla, and she turns her back on us.
She shakes her head. “I realized I was tired of choosing sides.”
“Well, I hope you chose the right one.”
“There’s no reason to keep fighting the Sinners. We are fighting for retaliation, and the man responsible is already dead,” she says.
I open the door to my car. “There is no “we.” You made that clear a long time ago.”
I get in and call the office on my way, letting them know I’m going to be a little late. Thanks to the short-lived reunion with Harper, I’m running behind.
Donia calls while I’m on the road and I frown at her request but agree to do it. She’s the boss, and I follow orders, even if I don’t want to deal with another dead body.
Chapter Eleven
Warren
Chief Hightower made finding Hatcher easy on us. He called Lucien and told him right where to find him and Lucien sent me to check it out. Unfortunately, we aren’t the only ones who found him. Several onlookers gawk as the local news station gives a story on gang violence while Hatcher’s body is being removed from the scene.
Hightower said he tried to hold them off as long as he could, but Hatcher was placed in a more public area than Billy was. There was no way he could keep it under wraps.
The fire department manages to cut through the cable holding Hatcher up, and they begin lowering his body from the light pole. The power company is even here to ensure there aren’t any electrical issues and that no one gets hurt. Well, no one else.
I can hear people whispering and even see a lot of them taking video with their cell phones ‒ fucking vultures.
I push through the crowd, and my body stiffens, recognizing her instantly. Mackenzie holds her phone in her hand, oblivious to me watching her. Why is she here?
I approach her and snatch her phone from her hands. I take her by the arm and escort her through the group of people still gawking.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” I hiss in her ear.
“Probably the same thing you are. Following orders,” she smarts.
“I came to check on a brother,” I defend. “You have no right to be here.”
She snatches from my hold. “I have every right to be here!”
A few people look in our direction but then turn back to the scene before them. “I’ve already warned you, Mackenzie.”
“When you place your hand around my neck, is that a warning?” she asks, leaning in close to me so that I can feel her tits press against my chest. “When you show up at my house and kill your girlfriend in my kitchen, is that a warning?” A growl rumbles low in my throat. “Hmm, I remember you growling before, Warren. Does that mean you’re turned on?”
“I might want to fuck you six ways from Sunday,” I let her know. “But if I find out you or your club had anything to do with this, you’ll wish you died the same fucked up way as the Hades Riders.”
She visibly shudders, and I know she takes my warning seriously. She takes her phone and stomps off, flipping me a bird over her shoulder.
I phone Lucien as I head to my bike. “Yeah, he was here. Same MO as Billy.”
Lucien lets me know I’m on speaker with Wiggie, “Chief has no leads.”
“I may have one,” I let him know
. “But you won’t like it.”
I tell him about Mackenzie being here and about how she brought up Billy when I killed Sabrina. We at least need to check into what Hell’s Fury is up to. See if they did this.
“I ordered the hit on Sabrina, but I can’t do that to Mackenzie,” Lucien sighs. “Harper would never forgive me.”
I don’t want her dead any more than he does, but I say, “We can’t let them get away with this. If it’s them, we need to find out.”
“Wiggie is nodding his head, so we agree with you,” he tells me. “Tell you what, do what you need to do to find out if they’re responsible. If they are, I’ll take care of it and address it with Harper then. No more dead bodies for now.”
Hopefully, Hatcher is the last of ours.
Mackenzie
I flip through the channels, and when I don’t find anything interesting to watch, I turn the television off and go down the hallway.
Once in the bathroom, I turn the shower on and strip. If it were any other day, before my life was a mess, I would be at Harper’s chilling out with Layla.
I was Harper’s go-to babysitter and spent most of my evenings at her house, which is right next door, watching Layla until she got home from her shift at the diner.
She had to go and fuck that up though and now my nights are spent here. Sometimes Suggs comes over, and we fuck before I tell him I need to get ready for bed. I usually don’t allow him to stay although I can tell he wants to.
Other nights I get on my bike and ride. No destination in mind. Tonight, I didn’t do that though. This whole deal with the Sinners turning up dead has me worried about what their next step is.
Trying not to worry, I turn the shower off and get out, towel drying and dressing in a loose tank top and a lacy thong. I towel dry my hair and then toss the towel in the hamper before I open the door.
Strong arms close around my upper body, hoisting me up. Reflexes kick in, and I kick and fight with all I have. I slam my head back and into my assailant’s mouth as hard as I can. He loosens his hold on me, and I twist and fight, desperate to be released.