Kayne’s Fury: A Savage Saints MC Novel
Page 16
“Who are you?” God, I feel like a broken record asking the same thing over and over.
“Why, I’m what your worst nightmares are made of Punta. Ask your mother.”
“I can’t. She’s dead you sick son of a bitch.” I growl. I rattle the handcuffs trying to get out. I want to kill this motherfucker.
“That’s what you think, sweetheart.”
I freeze at his words and glare up at him, “Nice try asshole. Now let me go and I’ll show you a sweetheart.”
“Prez, we have to go.” The other man, who I forgot was here, says to their president. Fuck me. I’m in trouble. The President of The Black Destroyers, Rage, is known for his name. He’s a psychopath who enjoys torturing people and gets off on it.
“Ah, now you know who I am. I’ll be back,” Rage says his murky brown eyes roaming up and down my body, making me want to vomit from the way he’s leering at me. “When I return, you and me will have some fun.” He stomps up the stairs with the other guy trailing quickly behind. I hear the door open and slam shut. My mind keeps replaying our conversation over and over. Something is off. I need to get out of here and quickly. I look up at the handcuffs. My fingers down to my wrists are numb and the cuffs are cutting into my skin, making it bleed. Maybe I can slip my hands through. If I can’t feel anything right now, I should be able too. I yank hard on the cuffs and they cut deeper into my skin, drops of blood run down my arm. I stand up on wobbly legs, brace my right foot against the wall and pull. It’s no use. The handcuffs are just digging deeper into my skin. I fight back the tears forming in my eyes and inhale a deep breath. I’ve got to do something.
Looking around the cold basement, I try to find something, anything I can use when the door above opens and closes again. Small, light footsteps walk hesitantly down the stairs and stop at the bottom. I turn around to see who’s down here with me. My heart is beating hard against my chest as I stare into the face of a ghost. The face of a woman who I thought died years ago. I stare into the face of my mother.
EIGHTEEN
Kayne
The entourage of bikes behind me pull into Deadly Sins Strip Club and I turn off the engine, the motor ticking in the quiet. I remain on my seat, waiting for Cahal to show up. A few minutes later a dark SUV pulls in and parks next to me. I reach inside my cut and rest my hand on the butt of my Sig, watching the car.
The rear tinted window rolls down and Cahal leans forward so I can see his face. “What’s the plan?”
“Waiting on you to get here so we can go inside together,” I respond.
He nods his head to the driver and the car turns off. All four doors open and four men climb out of the SUV, their hands are on their pieces under their coats. All four men are huge, they have muscles bulging under their coats, each one has short hair cut right up next to their scalp and their eyes are scanning everywhere at once, looking for a threat. One man approaches me and Stryker cuts him off from getting too close. His blue eyes are wild and his body is tense. He stands tall against the Irish ready to kill if needed. I dismount my bike at the same time Cahal steps out of the SUV. He nods his head and I nod mine back. Cahal is wearing a pair of blue jeans and a grey button-down shirt. Modest but reserved. His blonde hair is slicked back and his tired hazel eyes reflect all the shit he’s been through in his life.
“Red stand down. We’re here working together.” Cahal steps next to the big motherfucker who’s glaring at Stryker. “He’s not going to harm me.” Red takes a step back from Stryker, neither one will break eye contact.
“Stryker,” I approach him and rest my hand on his shoulder, squeezing it. He nods his head but doesn’t move. “Thank you, brother, but they’re here to help. Let’s put aside our differences for Poison. She needs us right now.” Stryker relaxes his shoulders a little. He’s wound up tighter than a virgin on prom night.
Cahal and I walk in together, side by side. “Sorry about that,” I tell him.
“Don’t apologize for your man doing his job. He doesn’t trust me and I don’t blame him. We haven’t exactly been on the same side these past couple of years. All he knows about me is that I’m part of the Irish Mafia, but, hopefully they can put aside their differences for Poison. She needs us now more than ever.” Cahal looks around and releases a low whistle.
The strip club is destroyed. Chairs are broken, tables are flipped over. Whoever did this smashed all the liquor behind the bar on the linoleum, making my eyes burn from the stale alcohol. In the low lighting, I can tell the red couches are ripped apart and the mirrors on the stage are shattered. We all fan out, looking for clues as to what Poison was doing here. I walk up onto the stage. The blood red curtains are ripped, barely hanging up. Whoever did this was here for a purpose. They were searching for something. Someone turned on the main lights, flooding the club with a bright fluorescent glow.
I walk the length of the stage, looking for something, anything that tells me what Poison was doing here. I shove the stage curtains to the side and the floor creaks under my weight. I step next to it and it’s solid under my foot. I step over the spot again and it creaks, hollow under my boot.
“Cahal. I think I found something.” I shout over my shoulder. I bend down and search for the give in the floor. I find a little lip and pull. The floorboard gives way, revealing a secret compartment. I grab my phone and power on the flashlight. I shine it inside.
“Holy fuck. Are you kidding me?” I pull stacks of money out and set them down next to me. Below the money is a metal box. I pull that out too. It’s heavy under my hands. I set it down next to the money with a thump. I flip the lock and peer inside. I pull out documents after documents and set them down. At the bottom of the box is a single, manila envelope.
“What do you have, Kayne?” Cahal asks over my shoulder.
“I’m not sure.” I open the envelope and pictures fall out. I flip through them and I feel like I’m going to be sick. They’re pictures of a woman with the same features as Poison. From her long blonde hair and a dazzling smile, I can see the similarities. In one, she’s hugging MadDog, wrapping her long, slender arms around his neck as they peer into each other’s eyes. The next, she’s kissing him. How old are these pictures? One after that is of the two of them leaving a hotel together, arm in arm, blissfully unaware they’re being photographed. The smile on each of their faces as they kiss and go their separate ways, tells me this woman was sleeping with MadDog, but why would they be hidden here?
“Kayne,” Ace calls me, pulling my attention away from the photos. “These are reports. Each page stating information on missing women going to The Black Destroyers. Age, height, weight, where they were taken from, how many in a run, how much money Drex received for them. It’s his paper trail for the last several years. He was into human trafficking. This isn’t good. If my hunch is correct, it wasn’t a hit on the club, but a hit on him and his club was in the crosshairs.” Ace sets the contracts down, disgust on his face. “There are hundreds of women that passed through here into their hands. What did you find?”
“If I’m guessing correctly, Poison’s mom had a side fling with MadDog. These photos go back several years.” I toss the manila envelope down along with the pictures and they slide across the stage. One at the bottom catches my attention and I pull it out of the stack. Staring back at me is an older version of Poison’s mom. She cut her hair short and it’s dirty. There’s a dullness in her eyes and she’s extremely skinny. I flip it over and scribbled across the back is a date from two weeks ago. Just before Drex and the rest of the Deadly Sins were murdered. “Fuck me. We need to get to Poison now. Where the hell did they take her?”
My phone chimes with a text. I open it to a message from Rooster.
Rooster: Call me asap. I found her.
I hit the call button and pace back and forth, waiting for him to answer. My blood pressure is rising with each ring. Finally, Rooster answers breathlessly. “Prez, I found them.”
“Where are they?” I ask, grinding my teeth.
“Thanks, Rooster.”
“One more thing, Prez.” The ominous tone in Rooster voice sends a shiver down my spine.
“What?”
“They’re not alone.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“I can’t be sure, but it looks like not all the members of Deadly Sins are dead. Unless one looks like Drex.”
My heart is pounding hard in my chest and I can’t form any words. This is bad. This is really, really bad. If Drex faked his own death, he’s going to kill Poison and come after the rest of us. “Thanks, Rooster.” I push the end call button and put my phone back in my pocket.
“What’s going on, Kayne?” Cahal asks.
“Rooster thinks Drex is alive and The Black Destroyers have Poison in a deserted warehouse in Midland. Come on, we have to go, now.” I jump off the stage and head to the front door. Before I can open it, I hear the distinct motor of Harleys headed our way. “Fuck, someone’s coming. Quickly, out the back.”
Everyone moves into action. Ace gathers all the papers and photos and shoves them back in the metal box, slamming the lid shut. He picks it up and carries it with him. I’m in the lead with Cahal directly behind me. The rest of our men are bringing up the rear. I crack open the back door and peek my head out. It’s clear, so we hurry to the sides of the building. I hear Harleys pull into the parking lot and turn off. We break apart. I go to the left with Blayde, Stryker, Cahal, Maddox, Talon and two of Cahal’s men, Red and one I didn’t get his name.
Axel, Tex, Ace, Damon, Knuckles and Cahal’s other two men veer to the right. We draw our guns as we round the corner, staying against the side of the building. I peek my head around, looking into the parking lot. Several bikes are parked all around ours and there’s no way to get to them without alerting The Black Destroyers.
“We need to come up with a plan. They will be coming out soon once they realize we’re not inside. We can either wait and pick them off, going into a bloodbath or call for backup and get the fuck out of here. What do you want to do?” I ask Cahal.
“If we call for backup, who would come? My guys are too far away.”
“I know just the person.” I send a quick text to Ace telling them to stay down, help is on the way. I open my contact list and scroll until I find the person I’m looking for. It’s going to be another debt I owe, but I really don’t have a choice if I want to get out of this alive with all my brothers. I inhale a deep breath, hit the call button and put my phone up to my ear.
After two rings a sultry, sexy voice fills my ears. “Kayne, what a pleasant surprise.”
I swallow hard and exhale, “I need your help.”
“It’s going to cost you.”
“Yeah, I know. I’m in a jam and blood will spill. Then you’ll never collect on your debt. We are being ambushed by The Black Destroyers.”
“Fucking assholes can’t leave shit well enough alone. Where are you?”
“Deadly Sins Strip Club. We’re on each side of the building, but they outnumber us. I’d rather not lose any brothers right now. I need them all to get Poison.”
“Where is she at?” Her sultry voice has taken on a hard edge, I can hear her teeth grind together.
“Last I knew, in an abandoned warehouse in Midland.”
“Fuck. OK, we’re on our way. Stay hidden until we get there. These assholes won’t know what hit them.” The line goes dead in my ear.
“She’s on her way.” I send a quick text to Ace telling him the plan. I remove my Sig from my cut and lean against the side of the brick building, watching and waiting. Cahal and the rest of the guys on this side do the same.
“Who is this woman you called?” Cahal asks after a few minutes of silence.
“A friend who I’ll owe a huge favor to if she can get them to leave. I never want to be on her bad side. She has a hell of a right hook and took down a mob family in New York City a few months ago. She’s originally from Cali but has friends out here.” I reply, still watching for her. We remain against the side of the building waiting for retribution to arrive.
NINETEEN
Kayne
The distinct sound of racing motors fills the quiet. By the sound of it, there are at least seven or eight cars coming our way, hot and heavy. A silver Ford Shelby is in the lead as it drifts around the corner, tires squealing, into the parking lot. Followed by a red Nissan GT-R, a dark green Porsche Cayman GT4, a black Mitsubishi Lancer Evolution MR, a black BMW M3, a silver Dodge Challenger SRT Hellcat, a dark blue Ford Mustang, and a black Mercedes Benz SL 600. They all drift around the corner in perfect precision and surround The Black Destroyers bikes, blocking their exit. I hear metal smack against the brick building and shouts of Spanish. I peek my head around the corner to see what’s going on.
The door to the silver Ford Shelby opens and long, tanned legs, followed by a sexy, lethal body steps out of the car. Krimson leans a hip against the driver’s side door without a care in the world and crosses her arms over her chest. Her blonde hair is in a messy bun on top of her head, she narrows her honey brown eyes at The Black Destroyers.
The same man that was with her earlier, built like a fighter with tribal tattoos all up and down his arms steps behind her, protectively. Another man with black hair and blond highlights and deadly black eyes stands next to the guy. Both are protecting her, their muscles are coiled tight and the tension is thick in the air. The rest of her crew step out of their cars, standing by them, waiting for the signal from Krimson. A man with shaggy blonde hair and a piercing in his lip, a tiny Mexican woman, a dark-skinned man, a skinny man with black hair, two other men built like the one next to Krimson and a familiar couple standing next to each other. I recognize them from the race track. Izzy and Xavier. That must be who Krimson visits when she comes out. I should have known. They had their own bad luck a few years ago, being stalked and kidnapped by Calabrese’s daughter Marie. Marie didn’t walk away.
“Rage, what a surprise to find you here,” Krimson says. The man behind her tightens his grip on her waist as she speaks.
“Krimson, what are you doing here?” Rage asks, shock written all over his face.
“A little bird told me you’d be here.” Krimson shrugs her shoulders. “Apparently you don’t listen very well. I warned you to stay away from the Deadly Sins Strip Club and anything to do with Savage Saints.”
“Stay out of it, Krimson. You don’t know what you’re getting into.” Rage spits out, pacing back and forth.
“Oh, but I do.” Krimson pushes off her car and steps forward, followed by both men and the two men from the other car. “See, this place and the club you’re chasing, they’re under my protection. I suggest you get steppin’ before you really piss me off. The last person who got on my bad side ended up missing.”
She’s right in Rage’s face, not batting an eye at the Spanish he’s spewing. I watch as two of his men try to go around Krimson, but the big guys stop them. Now’s my time to help. I step out from the side of the building and walk, with my gun at my side and my head up, going straight to Krimson’s side. Her eyes never leave Rage. A deadly smile is on her face as the rest of my brothers except Cahal and his men come out from around the building, surrounding Rage and the rest of The Black Destroyers. Our guns are drawn, aimed at each of them.
Rage turns his murky brown eyes on me and narrows them into slits. “If you want to see your Punta again, I suggest you let us leave. No harm, no foul Kayne.”
Blood boils in my veins and my finger tightens on the trigger. “You lay a fucking hand on her, I will kill you myself.”
“You wish you could kill me.” Rage sneers, the scar on the side of his face stands out like a freak show.
“No, I don’t wish, I know I will. I’ll
enjoy watching the blood drain from your body, while the life leaves your eyes. Where is she?”
“Let us go and I’ll send you the address,” Rage growls. He knows he’s defeated and back pedaling.
“On one condition.” I counter.
“What could I possibly have that you can barter with? You already took my V.P.”
I look at the men gathered around and spot the one I’m looking for. He looks just like Rage, only a younger version and no scars, yet. He isn’t over sixteen or seventeen since Rage is in his early forties.
I point my gun at the kid standing in the middle, “You, over here now.” The kid doesn’t move. I click the safety off my gun and point it right at Rage’s head. “I said get over here before I blow his brains out and make you clean it up.”
The kid steps forward hesitantly and I grab his prospect cut, placing him behind me. “Now, Rage. He won’t be harmed unless you don’t follow through. We’ll meet in three hours at The Park on the Westside. Bring Poison and I’ll bring your son.”
Krimson steps forward, leaning close to Rage. She whispers something in his ear and backs away. His murky brown eyes are huge and the color drains from his face. “Now move it and don’t come back.” Krimson orders.
“Let’s go.” Rage shouts to his men, his eyes never leaving me. “This isn’t over.”
“Not by a long shot. Bring Poison and you’ll get him back in one piece.” The Black Destroyers mount their bikes and take off out of the parking lot. We watch as they disappear and the sound of their Harleys along with it.
Krimson turns toward me, a scowl on her face. “What the fuck Kayne? His kid? Are you kidding me?”
The kid speaks up before I can, “Kayne and I know each other. I’m actually a prospect in Savage Saints. I went into my father’s club to help bring it down.”