Tormented (Fallen Aces MC #3)

by Max Henry

  Table of Contents

  ALSO BY MAX

  QUOTE

  ONE

  TWO

  THREE

  FOUR

  FIVE

  SIX

  SEVEN

  EIGHT

  NINE

  TEN

  ELEVEN

  TWELVE

  THIRTEEN

  FOURTEEN

  FIFTEEN

  SIXTEEN

  SEVENTEEN

  EIGHTEEN

  NINETEEN

  TWENTY

  TWENTY-ONE

  TWENTY-TWO

  TWENTY-THREE

  TWENTY-FOUR

  TWENTY-FIVE

  TWENTY-SIX

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  TWENTY-NINE

  THIRTY

  THIRTY-ONE

  THIRTY-TWO

  THIRTY-THREE

  THIRTY-FOUR

  THIRTY-FIVE

  THIRTY-SIX

  THIRTY-SEVEN

  THIRTY-EIGHT

  THIRTY-NINE

  FORTY

  FORTY-ONE

  FORTY-TWO

  EPILOGUE

  NOTE FROM MAX

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  TORMENTED

  Copyright © 2016 Max Henry

  Published by Max Henry

  All rights reserved. No part of this eBook may be reproduced or transmitted in any form, including electronic or mechanical, without written permission from the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. Max Henry is in no way affiliated with any brands, songs, musicians, or artists mentioned in this book.

  This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this eBook with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you are reading this eBook and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return it to the seller and purchase your own copy.

  Thank you for respecting the author’s work.

  Published: December 2016, by Max Henry maxhenryauthor@outlook.com

  Edited by: Hot Tree Editing

  Cover Image: Adobe Stock

  Cover Design: Sara Eirew

  Formatted by: Max Effect

  ALSO BY MAX

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  FALLEN ACES MC SERIES

  Unrequited

  Unbreakable

  Tormented

  COMING SOON

  Existential

  Redundant

  Misguided

  BUTCHER BOYS SERIES

  Devil You Know

  Devil on Your Back

  Devil May Care

  Devil in the Detail

  Devil Smoke

  BANJAXED SERIES

  Pistol

  Loaded

  Recoil

  STANDALONE

  Malaise

  OTHERWORLD DESIRES (Paranormal)

  Battle to Become

  Methods for Mayhem

  There is no greater agony

  than bearing an untold story inside you

  - Maya Angelou

  ONE

  Sawyer

  They never hold still, no matter how many times you tell them to.

  “Please, man. I’ve got a wife, a baby on the way.”

  “And that’s my problem how?” I roll out the canvas knife holder, laying it out flat and wiggling my fingers over the selection.

  Hooch was skeptical about letting me return to work so soon after the shitfight with the old man, but when I damn near halved his whore count after two of the bitches thought it’d be a great idea to steal some of my stuff as “memorabilia,” he soon came around.

  “Don’t you have family?” the junkie pleads.

  “Nope,” I answer without hesitation. Relatives? Sure. Family? Not in the slightest.

  Only me . . . .

  Yeah. Only the fucking distant cousin that everyone tries to avoid at all costs.

  I’m not that distant . . . .

  No. When you’re in my fucking head, I guess you ain’t.

  “My woman. What’s she supposed to do?”

  “Find a guy who treats her half decent.” I slide my favorite knife from its sheath and turn it left and then right, laying the blade flat on my palm as I inspect its gleaming beauty.

  Perfect . . . .

  “What you doin’, man? What you got there?”

  The guy’s eyes go wide when I turn back to face him. Schmuck is tied to one of his porch chairs by the same rope he used to weigh down the body he shoddily attempted to hide in the lake.

  “Did it occur to you that the guy you shot had a fucking family?” I seethe.

  Irresponsible fuckers like him make me itchy in the palm.

  “No way, man. He didn’t look like the type to have anyone.” He’s lying to himself, trying to justify his crappy decision.

  “No?” I take a couple of steps across his back porch so I’m toe-to-toe with him. “So he doesn’t have a daughter? A son? A wife who can’t work because she’s disabled?” Amazing what a person can find out with a little time on their hands and an Internet connection.

  He attempts to lunge at me, making the chair jump. “You’re full of shit, you dick-suckin’ motherfucker.” The guy’s mood does a one-eighty from desperation to rage. “You’re just sayin’ those things to try and make me feel bad.”

  It’s fascinating the emotions a person will cycle through when they know there’s no escaping their fate.

  “Did it work?”

  He sneers at me, jerking his arms desperately in his bounds.

  “Truth is—as much as I’d love to be lyin’ to you—I’m givin’ you 100 percent fact, my friend. Ever occur to you that he might have had a reason for workin’ as late as he was?”

  The guy shrugs as he gives up the fight against his constraints. “Didn’t think about it.”

  “Didn’t seem odd,” I say, wrinkling my nose, “that your vic was out at midnight in a suit?”

  “Nope.” The chair creaks as our toy gangbanger leans forward. “What’s it to you, anyway?”

  “Right now?” I gesture to my knives. “Fuckin’ everything.”

  His eyes roam over my selection of blades, his brow pinching as he clearly rolls his current predicament around in his mind, looking for an out.

  “What’s it goin’ to take?” He juts his chin in the air. “How much?”

  “You can’t buy me off.” So naïve.

  “You sure about that?”

  “Yeah.” I chuckle. “I am.” He flinches as I prod him in the shoulder with the tip of the knife. “Why would I want your filthy fuckin’ cash anyway?”

  He snorts. “As if you’re fuckin’ squeaky-clean, you freak.”

  “Maybe not, but I like to think I still have morals.”

  Even if you could count them twice on one hand . . . .

  Never said I had lots.

  “Look,” he levels, tipping his head forward so he stares out from under his brow. “I don’t know what magical world you fuckin’ operate in, but the business is dog eat dog, man. I start lettin’ my feelings get in the way, and some other asshole jumps in with the goods. I gotta finish what I start.”

  “He was a Good Samaritan. Just tryin’ to help a woman in dist
ress.”

  “What he saw was none of his business. Should have kept on drivin’.”

  “He sees a dirty fuckin’ creep like you tryin’ to wrestle her in the back of a car, while she’s screamin’ and kickin’ at you, then that’s his goddamn business. It’s his fuckin’ business as a man with a conscience to do somethin’ about it.”

  “Curiosity killed the cat.” He leers as though he’s got me on this one.

  “Yeah? Well, pity this pussy’s about to get chewed up and spat out by the big bad wolf, ain’t it.”

  The guy’s nostrils flare, his glare downright murderous. Shame I’m the one with all the tools now, isn’t it?

  Such a shame . . . .

  “Where do you want me to start?”

  “On yourself, asshole.” He spits at my feet, a last show of defiance.

  “Come on now.” I reach out, running my palm around the side of his face to unsettle the asshole even more. “That’d defeat the purpose of me comin’ out to see you now, wouldn’t it?”

  “What about this then?” he says. “I tell you that I understand what you’ve said to me, and you let me go on the promise I won’t fuck up like that again?”

  “Fuck up how?” I ask dryly. “By kidnappin’ the girl, or gettin' caught doing it?”

  He crumples his chin as he shrugs. “Both?”

  I chuckle, shaking my head at the schmuck. How fucking stupid does he think I am? “Man, if you’d only fucked up this once, then maybe I’d consider it. But Jesus Christ, you’ve got a rap sheet of mistakes and stupid decisions almost longer than mine.”

  He swallows hard, fingers twitching in his bonds. The circulation should be getting weak about now, the pins and needles spreading up his arms. Pretty soon he won’t have sensation to his shoulders; a distinct numbness in his entire arm.

  Better hurry it up then . . . .

  Keep your pants on.

  “Doesn’t everyone deserve a second chance?” His voice cracks with sheer desperation.

  “Nope.” I stroke the hair from his forehead with the edge of the blade. “Tell me, how long you been in the skin trade?”

  His eyes close; he knows he’s screwed. “You know the answer, don’t you?”

  “Got told it was coming up your seven-year anniversary. That true?”

  He swallows, head bowed.

  “Oh, buddy. You’ve seen your last sunrise. You get that, right?”

  “Who fuckin’ sent you?” he grinds out as I use the blade under his chin to bring his face up to mine. “Who told you where to find me?”

  I smirk; the corner of my mouth takes its sweet time to inch upward as I relish this moment and prepare for the split second he plays his part in the grand finale. My devil dims the lights and spreads his arms wide, eyes closed as he smiles blissfully.

  Holding my captive’s curious gaze, I answer. “Your fuckin’ wife did.”

  Asshole’s face drains of blood, his skin fading to a pasty white as he stares at me, unblinking.

  Encore!

  “Wh-what?” The guy’s brow pinches.

  “Uh-huh.” I chuckle for good measure. God, I love fuckin’ with them. “That pregnant wife you were just tellin’ me would be lost without you? She’s the one who raised the bounty on your ass, pal.” He swallows hard. “What’s the matter?” I ask, firming my grip on the knife and lining it up with his side. “That betrayal sting you right in the heart, did it?”

  He screams as I drive the blade in under his ribs, puncturing his lung, but missing the vital organ I want to beat for a little while longer yet.

  “She’s worried because her man said it would only be one time,” I explain. “And then when she asked you to stop, you started lyin’ to her. She says that guy you threw in the fuckin’ shallow end wasn’t your first.” I draw the blade out, wiping it clean on his jeans. “She’s kept a list of all the people you’ve topped in your delusional crusade to be the next overnight millionaire in the area.” I laugh, circling him while I decide where to strike next. “Only problem with that dream, asshole?” I lean in close for effect. “You gotta steal a lot of girls to make that much money at the bottom end of the hierarchy.”

  “Jesus,” he mutters under his breath, coughing a little given oxygen doesn’t come as easy anymore.

  “I’ll let you in on a secret,” I say, poking a finger in his wound and making him groan through gritted teeth. “You’re kind of special, you know that?”

  “How?” he cries, clearly skeptical.

  “I retired. Hung up my blades, unloaded my clip, and swore I’d be a better man. Think of it a sociopath’s rehab.”

  “You’re fuckin’ mad!”

  “Among other things.” No secret there. “But it gets boring being . . . nice.”

  He eyes me as I drag the other porch chair over and take a seat beside him.

  “Your wife.”

  “What about her?”

  “You seem okay with the fact she’s sent a hit out on you.”

  “Women, man.” He shrugs, and promptly winces in pain.

  I kick back with a sigh, letting my knife rest on my thigh. He eyes it like a fat kid with his first good look at candy after health camp.

  “You got anything you’d like to tell her?” I pull my phone out and scroll through to the note-taking app.

  “I think she knows it all.”

  “That’s the problem, isn’t it? You trust the ones you love, think your secrets are safe with them, and then whammo!” I launch forward and clap in his face. Guy damn near shits himself. “The people you thought would be with you until the end use it all against you.”

  “Bitch doesn’t know what’s good for her.”

  “Yeah?” I scoff. “How’s that?”

  “She gave up her fuckin’ meal ticket, didn’t she? Who does she think pays all the bills, puts food on the table?” He pauses to catch his breath, shaking his head. “Dumb fuckin’ cunt.”

  “Oh, no,” I say. “She’s pretty darn smart.”

  “How?” He screws his nose up at my assertion.

  “Because she took all that information you gave her, all those murders, those shoddy deals, and that clever fuckin’ woman put the puzzle pieces together. And you know what she got?”

  He shrugs.

  “A fuckin’ morbid picture that showed her the one thing no expectant mother wants to see: danger for her baby. She’s worried that your selfish fuckin’ actions are going to get her and that kid killed.”

  “No, she’s got it wrong. I’d never let anyone get to our kid. Let me—” he splutters “—talk to her.” The blood pumps from his side faster the more agitated he gets.

  Stop playing . . . it’s time . . . .

  I shake my head and push out of the chair. “Sorry, friend. Your woman was pretty firm on her rules.” I make a mock sad face at the guy. “Didn’t want anything to do with how you went, just to know that you had.”

  “Fuck you,” he slurs, spitting blood with his words. “Fuck you, asshole.”

  I lift the knife to his jaw, ready to cut his tongue out from underneath when my phone vibrates on the porch rail. I glance over and lift a finger to the guy. “Hold that thought.”

  He coughs, spitting up more blood as I answer.

  “Go ahead.”

  “You busy?”

  King. “Depends what you count as busy, Pres.” I swing my gaze back to my new friend, smiling.

  “I’ll make it brief anyway.”

  The asshole on the chair moans amongst his cough, probably realizing just how screwed he is as the pool of blood at his feet grows from both the knife wound and his mouth.

  “Sure I’m not interrupting something?” King asks.

  “No. You’re fine.”

  Makes the climax that much better when we drag it out, anyway . . . .

  “I need you to head back to Lincoln.”

  I turn away and absently choose the next knife while we talk. “Why?”

  “I’ve called the officers together, and I wa
nt you there to tell them what you told Hooch. They need to know what your father’s got planned. I think it’s time we put his future to the vote, don’t you?”

  “Long overdue, brother.” The grievances between my drug lord father and the Fallen Aces go back further than my history with the club. He’s been underhandedly trying to get the Aces on his payroll for years, but these boys don’t give in to blackmail lightly.

  “I’m counting on you bein’ onside with the Aces takin’ the lead in this,” King says.

  “If it puts that fucker six foot under, I’m in.” I jam the phone between my shoulder and ear. “Just one request.”

  “That?”

  “You let me finish him off. I’ll allow your boys to bring him to his knees, but I want to be the last face he sets his dyin’ eyes on.”

  “Deal. I know what it means to you, and I respect that. You think you can make it here in time for the meetin’?”

  My captive spits off to the side, panting as he stares out at me from under his brow.

  Impatient little bastard . . . .

  “Sure, I can make it. I’ll finish things here and head right on up.”

  King ends the call, and I set the phone back on the porch rail while I crack the joints in my neck. My heart beats a little faster, my smile a little wider as I turn back to my victim with renewed enthusiasm.

  Fuck, I love the smell of blood and revenge in the morning.

  Me too . . . .

  TWO

  Abbey

  I’ve never been allowed in here before; never stepped foot over the threshold, let alone brought fresh linens in. Housekeeping has always been Sonya’s thing, and me? Well, I’m usually elbow-deep in grease out in the garage with Fingers. I’ve earned my keep the best way I knew how over the past twelve years growing up in this club, keeping my head low and my hands busy getting in the tight spots the old mechanic’s arthritic fingers don’t reach anymore.

  But when Sonya’s God only knows where with her old man, and the washing stacks up, King needs somebody to help run the ship. And that person would be me.

  I set the stack of sheets down on the foot of the bed and breathe in the musky scent that always seems to accompany a man’s space. It’s been weeks since the club sent Sawyer home to face the music with his old man, but somehow the room still smells of him.

  Leather.

  Smoke.

  Aftershave.