Undaunted: The Kings of Retribution MC

by Crystal Daniels

  Five long fucking days.

  That’s how many days Bella’s been gone. After tearing the state of Montana apart, we’re no closer to finding her. I’m walking back into the clubhouse after returning from yet another useless trip to Dixon when my phone rings.

  “What,” I snap.

  “Hello, is this Logan?” A shaky female voice asks causing me to stop in my tracks.

  “Who the hell is this?” The bite in my tone has several of my brothers looking in my direction on high alert. “My name is Sofia, I got your number from Bella,” she speaks so softly I can hardly hear.

  “Can you tell me where she is Sofia?” I listen intently as she does her best to give me her location. She doesn’t know an exact address but is able to tell me the name of the town and a description of the house. Several minutes into the call I hear a man’s voice in the background.

  “What the fuck you doin’ you little puta, bitch?” I hear the girl scream before the line goes dead.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Bella

  Several days have passed, or so I think. I have no way of judging the time except for the rise and fall of the sun.

  Sofia said she was going to sneak the phone tonight and call Logan. I can only hope she can do all this without getting herself hurt. I hate to think of my sister, alone and just as scared as I am. We’ve always had each other to get through a terrifying situation in the past. We’ve both made it this far in life, I’m not about to give up now. I know Logan, and the others will find us.

  I tried hard to keep my eyes open and not to fall asleep while waiting for Sofia to hopefully return, but exhaustion won that battle. I jolt, hearing a commotion outside the bedroom door. The door flies open, and a gasp escapes my lips when Jorge strides in, his eyes trained on me.

  “So,” he draws out, “it seems my little bird was planning to fly away?” He walks over to the edge of the bed.

  Malice drips from his voice with his next words, “First, I hear that your buyer has backed out of the deal, seems he found out you’re not so pure after all.” He runs a cold clammy hand over my breast before squeezing, then rips my shirt open. “Then, you conspire with our little whore to help you escape.”

  My heart sinks. They must have caught Sofia. My only hope in someone finding me, gone. I clench my eyes shut, turning my head away. The fear of him doing more making my skin crawl, causing me to visibly tremble.

  “We caught the whore talking to someone on the phone. Heard her say the name Logan,” he sneers, not once taking his cold, dead eyes off of me as he peers down.

  My head snaps up, looking at him. Giving away the recognition of the name he just said.

  “So, this must be the gringo that you belong to,” he states. Pulling a knife from his boot, he begins to run the long blade down my cheek and along the side of my neck. I’m frozen with fear. The sound of my heart pounding in my ears is so loud it’s defining.

  “Oh, your biker is probably on his way, but we have plenty of time to have some fun before I go.”

  There is absolutely nothing I can do when he takes the knife and cuts my bra, exposing me. I’m tugging on the restraints so hard that my skin has torn and starting to bleed. I watch as he traces the blade around the curve of one breast, then drags it along the curve of the other, this time applying pressure. Immediately I feel the sting of my skin being sliced. Tears fall from my eyes as I beg him. “Please, please don’t do this.”

  His eyes are transfixed on where he sliced me and the blood that is dripping down my ribs. His expression blank, like he’s not even here. Blinking, he reaches out, dragging a finger through the blood on my flesh. “Your blood is all I want. Nothing more. There is no better high than watching the life slowly drain from someone.”

  His blade begins to trail my body again. The rise and fall of my chest quickening as panic quickly takes hold of me. He pauses, the tip of the knife resting along my side, on top of my ribs, then slashes into me once more. This time I scream, the pain much worse than the first cut. He doesn’t let up. The knife digs into my flesh again and again. I lose count after a few moments. The pain is unbearable.

  “Hermosa, beautiful.” I barely hear him say through my screams.

  I faintly hear a knock on the door and turn my head to watch Jorge get up and walk over to open it. They start speaking, in Spanish, words I don’t understand. With his back turned, I look around trying to figure out any way to help myself get out of here. I notice his knife lying on the bed, but it’s impossible to reach with my hands above my head. I try once again to tug on my restraints. The pain is excruciating. I look down to see my skin is gashed open in several places with blood seeping from each wound. It’s no use. My struggles does nothing but further weaken what strength I still have.

  A few more words are spoken between the two men before Jorge closes the door, making his way back over to the bed.

  I watch as he picks the knife up again. “Your biker is almost here. I’m going to make sure he sees you die before I kill him myself.” He puts the knife back in his boot, just as another man wearing the same cut walks through the door.

  “Help me take her down to the basement. We will wait for them down there. Order the men to their posts. I want to know the moment he arrives.”

  Jorge undoes both my wrists before hoisting me over his shoulder, sending intense, shooting pain through my entire body. Flashes of lights and shadows dance behind my eyes just before I pass out.

  When I come to, I’m hanging upright with my hands tied above my head, wearing nothing but my panties. My eyes dart around the room taking in my surroundings. The lack of light makes it hard to see much of anything. I hear a noise to my right. Straining my eyes, I can make out a figure lying on the ground. “Who’s there?” I stammer.

  No one answers.

  The lights come on without warning, and sitting on a chair in the middle of the room is Jorge.

  I scan over to where I heard the noise seconds before and gasp when I see Sofia, chained to the floor, beaten so badly her eyes are completely swollen shut.

  “He’ll kill you,” I seethe.

  “Good, I see you’re ready to fight. I’m going to enjoy watching that light fade from your eyes.”

  Striding over, he places the tip of the blade on my inner thigh. “Be still now. If you move it will be much worse.”

  Of course, I don’t listen. I try to kick him but it’s no use I’m too weak. I unwillingly scream as I feel a hot, searing pain. His blade sinks into the flesh of my leg.

  “Just inside the inner thigh, is the main artery, and if you puncture it just right, the blood will slowly leave your body. If I cut any deeper, you’ll die within minutes,” he boasts, satisfaction in his eyes as he watches the blade sink in.

  The tears continuously flow down my face, as I sob. I will myself to stay strong, but the pain is winning. Looking down I watch my blood slowly trickle from my inner thigh, forming a small puddle at my feet.

  “Now, we sit and wait,” he declares, with his arms spread wide.

  Instead of pleading for my life, which at this point would be useless, I concentrate on my breathing. I do my best to calm myself and clear my head. Logan is on his way, this much I know. I need to make sure I hold on that long.

  Time slows to a crawl. It’s so quiet. The only thing I hear is the beating of my own heart. Looking down, I notice the puddle of blood at my feet has gotten bigger. I feel so tired. I want to close my eyes so bad. It’s taking everything in me to keep them open. This is it. I’m not going to make it. I can’t help but wonder what’s going to happen to my sister. Is she okay? Did they find her? And why didn’t I ever tell Logan I love him? I should have told him. Suddenly, I hear men shouting and gunfire erupting above us.

  A loud pop and the sound of heavy footsteps echoes outside the basement door. I manage to lift my head up just as the door bursts open. I watch as Logan’s eyes scan the room, stopping as soon as his eyes land on me.

  “Angel,” he whisp
ers, taking a step forward.

  I’m too weak to speak fast enough.

  The click of a gun cocking catches his attention. The overhead light switches on, and both men have the barrel of their guns trained on one another in a standoff.

  “You got here just in time to watch the rest of her life drain from her body,” Jorge gloats. “Your club killed my father, and many of my men the other day. Now, you get to watch as someone you love dies,” he hisses, spitting at Logan’s feet.

  “Your father was a coward who was caught trying to run and leave his men behind.” I hear Logan say, his voice full disgust.

  Keeping his gun trained on the twisted, deranged man in front of him, Logan assesses me. His eyes scan over my body, taking in the lacerations going across my ribcage and under my breast. He stops when he sees the bright red blood oozing from my thigh and the puddle of blood at my feet.

  His eyes connect with mine. I silently try telling him I’m sorry, that I love him.

  Cracking his neck, I watch as Logan sets his attention back on Jorge. “Motherfucker, your father was a spineless pussy, who was caught trying to flee instead of fighting like a man. The barrel of the gun that was pressed between his eyes as he stared death in the face...it’s the same one that your sorry ass is staring down right now. The only one dying here today is you,” Logan rages.

  A red dot appears on Jorge’s forehead, just before the back of his head explodes, blood splattering everywhere. I don’t have time to process anything else. Logan is over to me in two strides, undoing the restraints. I fall in a heap into his arms.

  “Shit, Bella, stay with me,” he pleads, taking his cut off and covering my exposed body. He then hoisted me up in his arms and carries me out of the room.

  I hear voices all around me but can’t make out who they belong to. I force myself to speak. “My sister?” I croak out.

  “We got her. She’s safe,” Logan declares.

  An exhausted breath leaves my lungs. Relief washing over me. I feel light, like a feather drifting on a breeze. I reach my hand up, touching Logan’s warm cheek.

  “I love you, Logan,” I murmur, with a jagged breath.

  I’m so tired.

  I close my eyes...only for a moment, but not before hearing Logan’s voice whisper in my ear, “I love you too, Angel. Stay with me.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  Logan

  It hadn’t taken long for the club to put a plan into motion. As soon as my call with Sofia was cut off, my brothers along with my father organized a course of action. We now know Bella is in Fairfield, Washington. Demetri has arranged for his private plane to take us to Spokane. Drive time would have taken well over two hours, with flying it cuts that two hours down to about thirty minutes. Once we arrive at the airport in Spokane, we will make a forty-minute drive to Fairfield. Even though we don’t have an exact address where Bella is being held, my father informed us his men are very good at finding people, and has assured me we will have the information by the time we reach Spokane.

  Jake, Quinn, Reid, and Demetri will be making the trip with me, while Gabriel and my brother, Nikolai, will stay behind watching over the clubhouse while we’re away. With the President of Los Demonios dead, there’s not much of a threat, but we’re not taking any chances. We still have no clue as to who Alba’s buyer was, or if he has any hurt feelings at not getting what he’s paid for. People who are sick and crazy enough to buy another human being, for whatever reason, don’t usually give up too easily on their obsession.

  Walking out of the clubhouse towards my father’s SUV, I see Victor, his driver, loading several duffel bags into the back. An advantage of flying private is we’re able to bring our artillery. Speaking of, I see Bennett striding over to Reid carrying a familiar black case that holds his .300 Win Mag, he passes it off to him with a lift of his chin.

  The drive to the airport is silent. My wandering thoughts have me on edge. Is she okay, what are those motherfuckers doing to her? I clench my hands into fists with the thought of anyone putting their hands on my woman. “Don’t let your head go there, son.” My father speaks from beside me. “Focus on their blood—on vengeance.” He’s right, I need to keep my shit together. I’m no good to Bella if I let my emotions cloud my judgment.

  Sitting inside Demetri’s plane, I can’t help but think about the kind of wealth he has. My mother was a single parent who sometimes struggled to make ends meet on her nurse’s salary, while my father was able to afford whatever his heart desired. Logically I know it’s not his fault, but it still hurts to know that my grandfather, my own blood, didn’t think I was good enough...that my mother wasn’t good enough for his son. Cutting my eyes over to my father, I see him staring at me like he knows exactly what I’m thinking and I’m startled by the look of devastation on his face. In that moment, I realize he’s hurting just as much as I am, and I need to let my anger go. Bella told me I was lucky to have this second chance with my father. He has shown me nothing but love, patience, and loyalty since coming into my life. I owe it to myself and my mother to give him the same. Something tells me my mom would have wanted it this way.

  When we land in Spokane, I watch as my brothers file out of the plane, then I turn to look behind me to see my father talking to the pilot.

  “Dad,” I call out.

  Pivoting his head in shock, Demetri answers, “son.”

  “Thank you,” I say sincerely.

  “You’re welcome, Logan,” he answers back with noticeable emotion in his voice. With those parting words, I walk off the plane leaving the ghost of my grandfather behind.

  True to his word my father’s men found the address where Bella was being held. We pulled off to the side of a secluded road about a mile from the abandoned house where we knew Jorge, and at least a dozen of his men are located. Jake, Quinn, and I climb out of the SUV along with Demetri and Victor. We remain silent as we ready ourselves. As I’m sliding my 9mm into my shoulder holster, Jake speaks up. “Chances are, these motherfuckers will be expecting us. I’m sure they know by now we killed their president, who happened to be the VP’s father. They’ll be looking for blood,” he cautions us.

  Prez is right, there will be no sneaking up this time. We’ll have to go in hot and make this shit quick. I watch as Reid pulls the black case Bennett handed off to him before we left the clubhouse out of the back of the SUV, and takes off in a jog. The dirt road we are on is situated directly behind the abandoned house those sons of bitches are held up in, and Reid is headed off to get in position. The .300 Win Mag that Reid is carrying is the same one Bennett taught us to shoot when we were younger. Reid is an excellent shot and he’s very good at not being seen. My brother is a ghost when need be.

  “Alright, it’s show time,” Jake announces as Victor speeds up the dirt road stopping directly in front of the house. We’re barely out of the vehicle when shots are fired in our direction. Demetri is the first to return fire, catching a man on top of the roof, as Jake takes out a man who crept up on the side of the house. I hear several more shots as Quinn and Victor make their way around back, while Jake and I settle up by the front door. Prez gives the signal and on three—boots in the door as I cover him from behind and drill two holes into some fucker’s back as the coward tries to run away. Rushing down the hall I quickly start checking rooms. They’re all empty, except for what I find in the third one that almost brings me to my knees...blood! Blood soaked sheets covering the bed, and my first thought is I’m too late. There’s no way anybody can still be breathing after losing that much blood. “Fuck,” Jake hisses from behind me.

  “Jake,” I choke out.

  “We don’t know nothin’ for sure, Logan, don’t let your head go there.” I hear Jake’s phone ping. He looks at his message. “Let’s go, Reid has eyes through a window of the basement, he says there’s movement down there.”

  Running back into the kitchen, I jerk open the door I know leads to the basement. The squeak of the stairs no doubt alerting whoever is down
here to my arrival, but I don’t have it in me to give a shit, I’m on a mission. With my pistol raised, I round the corner, and I’m met with the worst sight I’ve ever witnessed. My angel is hanging from the ceiling, covered in lacerations and with a pool of blood at her feet. It takes me all of two seconds to notice the motherfucker sitting in the chair to my left with his gun trained on me. He’s spewing some shit about how our club killed his father and now he wants me to watch the woman I love die right in front of me.

  “Your father was a coward who was caught trying to run and leave his men behind.” I tell him, keeping my gun trained on him.

  Catching the small red light coming through the window, I sneer at him, “Let me fill you in on something, motherfucker. The barrel of the gun that was pressed between his eyes, as he stared death in the face—it’s the same one that your sorry ass is staring down right now. The only one dying here today is you.” By this point, we both have our guns trained on each other, but before he has a chance to react to my statement, Reid’s single shot hits Jorge right between the eyes, and I’m at Bella’s side before his body reaches the floor.

  Taking a knife from my pocket, Bella’s limp body falls into my arms as I quickly cut her down. She’s still conscious but doesn’t have the ability to hold herself up. Her lips are turning blue and her skin is pale. Laying her on the basement floor, I slip my cut off and cover her exposed body as she slurs, “I love you, Logan.”

  “I love you too, Angel. Stay with me.” I say in return.

  With shaky hands, I take my belt and tie it above the puncture wound on the inside of her thigh. Scooping her up in my arms, I wince. With the number of cuts on her body, there is no way of moving her that’s going to be painless. Behind me, I hear pounding feet making their way down the stairs. When I turn I see Jake and Quinn.

  “Oh shit, brother.” Quinn mutters when he sees the state Bella is in, “and who the hell is that?” he curses pointing to the small shadowy figure lying on the floor in the corner of the room. Quinn swiftly strides over to the unmoving person. “It’s a fuckin’ kid,” he announces, “and she’s beaten all to hell.”