Krimson is speechless. She opens and closes her mouth several times before she shakes her head. “Now what?”
The tall man with tattoos steps behind her. “Now, we let them deal with it. We need to get back to L.A.” His whiskey-colored eyes land on me and narrow. “If you ever put her in danger because you can’t handle your shit, I will kill you. I learned twenty different ways to make a man suffer, wishing for death.”
“Nolan, stop. These guys are good people, they just make shitty choices.” Krimson rests her palm on his chest, looking up at him with adoration. “I appreciate you protecting me, but I can handle my own.”
“I know you can. I love you and don’t want you to risk your life anymore.” Nolan says, looking down at her.
“It’s part of who I am. Helping these guys strengthens my crew and now I have people who have my back. You have your guys and do things your way, I have my ways. Kayne will now help when we need it and you know we will soon.” Something dark passes across Krimson’s face. If I wasn’t looking, I would have missed it.
“You’re right. I can’t help but protect you though. It’s what I do. Now can we get out of here? Watching you put that jackass in his place, makes me want to get you home and put you in your place.” He wiggles his eyebrows and smiles at Krimson.
“You’re a pig.” Krimson laughs.
“But I’m your pig and you love it, just like you love my...” Krimson covers his mouth with her hand muffling the rest of his sentence, but he’s laughing.
Krimson turns toward me, keeping her back against Nolan’s chest. “Kayne, I will be collecting soon. Remember that.” She turns to the rest of her crew. “Let’s go.” They all climb into their cars and take off, tires peeling out of the parking lot, drifting around the corner out into the street.
Once the dust settles, Cahal comes out from the side of the building followed by his four men. He’s looking around the area, watching and waiting. “That went well. I’m guessing no more problems.”
“Not right now, but we need to get Poison out of that warehouse. I don’t trust those guys to keep up their end of the bargain.” We’ve been here for a long time, longer than I wanted. The sun is starting to set, a deep shade of red cascading across the skyline, causing shadows to move across the parking lot. That means Poison has been under their watch for more time than I wanted. My knuckles crack under the pressure of my fists.
“What’s the plan?” Blayde saunters up next to me, standing tall and rigid. He has his switchblade out, flipping it open and closed while he stares at me waiting for an answer. He does this when he’s agitated. That’s where he got his name from. He prefers his switchblade over anything else to dispose or torture a body.
“Now, we load up and infiltrate the warehouse, bring Poison home and kill any motherfucker who stands in our way.” I crack my knuckles to keep them from trembling with the wrath brewing under the surface.
TWENTY
Poison
The blank, lifeless stare of my mother penetrates me, causing my dry tongue to stick to the roof of my mouth. How is this possible? Why is she here? She’s supposed to be dead. By the looks of her, she might as well be dead. She’s too skinny, her bones are showing through the tank top she’s wearing. Her once vibrant, long, blonde wavy hair is now hanging to her shoulders, brittle and dull. Her once lively green eyes are cloudy and lifeless. Her skin that once had a light brown glow is now pale and dry. This woman standing before me, hunched in on herself is not my mom. My mother would never let herself turn into this. There are track marks on her arms and she’s scratching her skin, like she wants to tear it off her body. Her cloudy green eyes are hesitant, looking in every direction at once, ping ponging around the basement walls.
“What…” I trail off and lick my dry, cracked lips. “Why are you here? I thought you were dead.” I ask. Her eyes find mine for a split second before she ducks her head.
“I shouldn’t be down here, but I heard…” her tiny voice barely makes it to my ears. “I heard a couple of the guys talking and laughing about a fresh piece of meat. A feisty woman they want to control.” She takes a hesitant step forward, reaching a hand out toward me and drops it at her side. “You’ve got to get out of here before you end up like the others.”
I rattle the handcuffs on the pipe. The cold metal digs into my skin. “I kind of can’t. I’ve been trying but it’s no use. Can you, will you help me, please mom?” I choke out. I want to wrap her in my arms and bring back the once vibrant woman who kissed my bruises and bandaged my cuts. The woman who taught me how to love and love with all I have before she succumbed to the addiction. “Why did Drex make me think you were dead?”
“Because he sold me to The Black Destroyers. He found out about…” she trails off, tears welling in her eyes, shaking her head back and forth, scratching her arms with her stubby nails.
“Found out about what? What happened?” I plead.
“Nothing. Forget I said anything. Let me see if I can get you out of these.” She takes a tiny step forward, looking all around the basement, like someone is going to jump out at her. The deep rumble of motorcycles fills the silence and her eyes grow wide with fear. “They’re going to kill me if the catch me down here.” She takes a step back.
“Mom, no. Please help me get out of here. You’ve got to help me.” Tears are streaming down my cheeks while my mother retreats further back.
“I’m sorry, I can’t. They’ll kill me.” She’s almost to the steps and further away from me.
“Mom, please. Don’t leave me down here.” I beg.
She stops on the bottom step, looks up to the door, back to me, then up at the door again. She pulls something out of the pocket of her jeans and tosses it in my direction. The metal clangs against the floor. I watch it bounce just out of my reach. When I look up to where she was, she’s gone. A figment of my imagination, only I didn’t just imagine it. My mother is alive.
I struggle with the handcuffs, trying to give myself a little slack. They bite into my wrists coating them with fresh blood. I move a couple of inches and stretch my body as far as it will go. My foot reaching toward the key. Two more inches and I’d have it. I keep trying, not giving up like she did. I sit on the floor, my hands above my head at an awkward angle and I stretch my body as far as it will go. My foot grazes the key. The rumble of bikes is louder, approaching fast. I contort my body again, my foot catches the key, my heart in my throat as I drag it toward me, ignoring the pain in my wrists.
I have the key next to me, now I need to figure out how to pick it up and undo the handcuffs, quickly. I lay down on the concrete, stretching my arms as far as they can and flip the key into my mouth, holding it with my teeth. I stand up and drop it into my blood and sweat soaked palms. My hands are shaking with adrenaline and fear. I drop the key.
“Fuck.” I growl and bend down to pick it up again. This time I keep it in my mouth, clenched between my teeth and insert it in the lock. The distinct click is music to my ears. The handcuff falls away from one of my wrists and I free the other one. Pocketing the key, I turn. I need a weapon of some sort, but there’s nothing down here. I grab the handcuffs and bunch them in my hand. This will have to do.
I quickly walk to the stairs, my ribs protesting in pain, listening for anyone to come down them. I quietly creep up the stairs and crack the door open. Music filters through the opening, the beat of the bass vibrates my ears. The door was soundproof, but the walls to the outside were not. I peek through the crack and watch. The fading sunlight penetrate the warehouse with a deep red color, casting shadows across the walls. No one has passed by the door. I open it a little more and slip out, staying low to the ground. The music pouring through the warehouse beats into my head, making it hard to think straight. I spot a stack of boxes in one corner and crawl to it as quickly as possible in the state my bruised and batter body is in, the dust choking me with each breath. Once I reach the back of the boxes, I hunker down to wait, calming my racing heart and pounding head.
Stomping footsteps stop next to the stack of boxes I’m hiding behind and my heart is in my throat. A burly man in leather from head to toe stands there for a moment before walking away, not saying a word.
Hate and rage floods my body, tapping into the evil I keep buried deep when Rage steps into my view. He has my mother by her hair, a tight grip on her ratty locks. Fear written deep in her eyes.
“Turn the fucking music down.” He barks at someone.
The music stops, my ears are ringing from the bass to silence. “Where have you been, Punta?” He tightens his grip on her scalp, causing her to cry out in pain.
“Nowhere. I’ve been where you told me to.” Her voice is trembling with fear.
“Is that so?” He narrows his eyes at her, the scar on the side of his face is standing out from his face turning red with fury.
“Yes. I promise. I haven’t left. Ouch. Your hurting me.” My mother cries out. Rage’s fingers dig into her skin, causing bruises.
“If you’re lying to me, that will be the least of your problems.” He produces a needle from his pocket and holds it up to her face. “Now be a good little girl and I’ll give you this.”
My mother’s eyes light up at the needle filled with Heroin. “What do you want to know?” She asks. Her addiction taking over all rational thoughts. I can see the change right before my eyes.
“Did you go to the basement?”
Her eyes ping pong between Rage, the basement door and the needle. The fight to her addiction wins out and she nods her head. “Yes. I had to see for myself.” Shame laces her voice.
Rage brings his fist back and strikes her hard across the face. Blood spurts from her nose, but she doesn’t take her eyes off the needle.
“Did she see you?” his grip on her arm tightens.
“No, I swear. She was sleeping when I snuck down. She had no idea I was there.” The lie rolls off her tongue. Maybe she can be saved.
Rage tosses her down and she skids across the dirty floor, hitting another stack of boxes. He struts over and stands above her, “If you’re lying to me, I will fuck you, then kill you. Are we clear?” She nods her head frantically, still watching the needle. Rage tosses it down onto her lap and she quickly picks it up, taking a shaky breath.
I can’t watch what happens next and duck my head, tears streaming down my face. My mom, a once vibrant and beautiful woman is now a shell of a woman looking for her next fix. All because of Drex, my father. I’ve got to get out of here and I need to get my mother to go with me. I hear movement in front of me and I peek through the boxes again. My mother is sitting there with a blissful look on her face, relaxed and at peace. Only I don’t understand how. That drug is like battling a monkey on your back. It’s always going to be there now and I can’t help her unless she helps herself.
Rage steps up to her and bends down so he’s in her face. He clutches her jaw in his hands, squeezing it tight. She’s doesn’t even flinch, she’s so far gone in her own wonderland. “Things are going to get messy, my little Punta. You need to be a good little bitch and get upstairs. If you do, I’ll give you more of what you want.”
“Only if I get something to go along with it,” her voice is shaky as she licks her lips.
“Oh, you’ll get it. That’s why I keep you around.”
Bile climbs it’s way up my throat. I want to tear Rage’s head off and spit down his throat after I cut his dick off and feed it to him. I’m so disgusted. He’s had my mom all this time and I never knew.
Rage stands up and offers a hand to my mother. Her tiny palm slips inside and he helps her up. She looks toward the basement door, longing etched on her face, she glances at Rage then nods her head and disappears from my line of sight. I exhale a harsh breath, waiting for his next move. More men in Black Destroyers leather appear, forming a circle around Rage. I stay as still and quiet as possible.
“After that stunt Kayne pulled, we need to move out. He’s got something up his sleeve.” Rage starts pacing back and forth, his boots thump against the warehouse floor. “I don’t trust them to hold up their end of the bargain and I know my kid is working with him. He went too quickly, too casually. That little asshole betrayed me. If you get the chance, he’s to be taken out, but Kayne is mine. I want his life to bleed out by my hands.”
I have to get out of here and warn Kayne of the danger he’s in. I look around and spot a metal door on the other side of the warehouse. That’s got to be my escape, but how am I going to sneak past all these fuckers to get out?
Rage’s cell phone rings, bringing my attention back to him. He’s stepped closer to my hiding spot and my breath catches in my throat, my heart pounding hard in my chest.
“Yeah,” Rage barks into his phone. “Is that so?” He waits for the other person to respond. Whatever they’re telling him isn’t good by the look on his scarred face. “I’ll handle it. Don’t worry, she won’t be leaving here alive.”
He ends the call and peers in my direction. Adrenaline fuels my body and my hands begin to shake. Rage steps away from me and heads to the basement door. Now’s my chance to get away. If he goes down those stairs, he’ll know I escaped.
I sneak out behind the boxes as quietly as possible, watching Rage turn the knob. Out in the open, with my heart beating hard against my chest, I sprint for the door, my freedom to escape. I reach the metal door and twist the knob. The red hues of the setting sun blind me for a moment before I hear small footsteps behind me.
“Go, get out now.” My mother’s small voice whispers from behind me. Her fragile hands shove me hard, pushing me out the door, shutting it behind me. I can smell the warm summer night engulfing me, letting me slip out into the welcoming darkness. I run as fast as my battered body will allow around the corner of the warehouse and hit something hard and unforgiving. Forceful hands grab my waist and hold me tight, pinning me to them. I kick and punch as hard and my bloody hands will allow until a deep voice penetrates my ears.
“I’ve got you.”
That’s all I hear when I succumb to the darkness edging my vision. My battered body shutting down, vulnerable to the man gripping me. Images of Kayne and me together flit through my head. “I’m so sorry, Kayne. So sorry I didn’t fight harder.” I whisper before I black out.
TWENTY-ONE
Kayne
I’m in the lead, my tires eating up the asphalt as we ride hard and fast away from the setting sun, toward the warehouse where Rage has Poison. Each mile we pass, riding in tandem, unleashes a fury I’ve never experienced before. Blayde is next to me, Stryker and Ace behind us. Followed by the rest of my brothers and the van behind everyone, keeping the cars behind us out of our way. The Irish are a few cars behind the van. We’re an entourage of outlaw bikers, on a deadly mission. I slow down once we reach Midland and pull into a parking lot a few hundred feet away from the warehouse where Poison is being held. I park my bike, shut if off and grab my cigarettes. I light one up, letting the smoke burn my lungs.
“What’s the plan, Prez?” Blayde asks, flipping his switchblade in his deadly hands. He’s ready for anything.
“We’re going to go in and kill those motherfuckers. No mercy on anyone. Except Rage. He dies by my hands. I want his blood flowing through my fingertips while I watch the life drain from his eyes, knowing he’s going to hell. Just like I promised him.” I dismount my bike, stub out my cigarette and unstrap my weapon of choice, a three-foot cane made of hard oak with a rubber grip on the handle and spikes on the end, from it’s hiding spot under my saddlebags. I test it’s weight in my hands, a familiar calm feeling overruns me, tamping down the demons ready to wreak havoc. My mind centers and my breathing becomes controlled, not short bursts of air. The calm before the storm.
Each of my brothers grabs their own weapons and we tie black bandana’s around our heads, put on leather gloves and tighten our vests. We’re ready for war within those walls. Ready to shed blood on any and all Black Destroyers that try to stop us.
We walk fast across the parki
ng lot, avoiding streetlamps and headlights. We don’t want anyone to see or recognize us. We split apart once we reach the back of the warehouse. I stop next to the brick building, peering around the corner. No one is out here keeping watch. Dumb fucking move on Rage’s part. My phone vibrates in my pocket. We really need different communications. It’s a text from Ace.
Ace: All quiet over here.
Me: Copy, same here. Wait until it gets darker, then we go in and kill those motherfuckers.
Ace: Copy that.
I pocket my phone and hunker down, watching and waiting. The sun is dropping further into the sky, creating more red hues to light up the buildings around me. We’ve been waiting for about fifteen minutes when commotion and shouting pierce the night. The metal door I’ve been watching from around the corner flies open with a loud bang and the most beautiful sight appears before me. Poison is running in my direction as fast as her body will allow her. She rounds the corner and runs straight into me. I grip her waist, holding onto her tight. She fights me, kicking and punching not giving up.
“I’ve got you.”
“I’m so sorry, Kayne. So sorry I didn’t fight harder,” Poison whispers before passing out. I check her over quickly, holding her limp body in my arms. Her face is bruised, crusted blood staining her hairline and nose. Her wrists are bloody and her clothes are torn. I gently wipe her face with my leather glove, feeling her chest rise and fall. I pick her up and move into the shadows, away from the warehouse.
“Poison, wake up.” I shake her gently. She stirs in my arms, her long lashes flutter open. Her hazel eyes are glazed over and unfocused. “Sarah, it’s me Kayne. Come on princess, time to wake up.”
She blinks a few times, her eyes focusing on me. “Kayne?” she croaks, swallowing hard. “They have my mom. I have to get her out.” I help Poison sit up. She’s clutching her ribs, struggling to breath. “Did you hear me, they have my mom. She’s alive and inside that building. We have to get her out before Rage kills her.” Her voice is stronger with each word, the fight coming back.
Kayne’s Fury: A Savage Saints MC Novel Page 17