Stryker moves to stand in front of the villain. Prying his mouth open, he glances behind him at Pipe. Reaching into the inside pocket of his cut, he pulls out a flask and unscrews the cap. Warning him to be careful not to spill whatever is inside, on himself. Keeping his arm lodged against his throat, Cobra assists in the task by pulling Yankovich’s hair and angling his head back.
Carefully, Stryker pours the liquid down his open mouth. Yankovich’s arms flail at his sides. He kicks as he gurgles the liquid. Foam bubbles around his mouth and once the flask is empty, Stryker uses his strength to force his mouth closed.
“Acid,” Blackie says beside me.
It burns his insides and when his body starts to convulse, Cobra loosens his hold on him. Yankovich drops to the floor. The tremors start to subside and, Jack kneels next to him.
“I’m not done with you yet,” he growls. “Open your eyes motherfucker,” he demands.
From where I am, I can’t tell if he obeys.
“The last word doesn’t belong to you,” Jack tells him. “It’s not mine either,” glancing over his shoulder, his eyes meet Deuce’s. “Read it before the son of a bitch dies,” he shouts.
Turning my attention to Deuce, I squint and watch as he unfolds a piece of paper.
“Mr. Yankovich, I was fourteen-years-old when I met you. I had just finished my shift at the pizzeria and was on my way home to my family. To my parents and a twin brother who loved me. You stepped out from the shadows and you asked me to help you. You couldn’t find your daughter and you were frantic. I knew better than to talk strangers but, I was naïve to believe there were good people in the world who needed help. I thought of my dad and how he would feel if I was the one lost. I pictured him, begging someone to help him find me and that’s why I agreed to help you.”
Deuce’s voice shakes, causing him to pause.
“You took me from my family, from my life. You abused me physically, mentally and sexually. You let my parents and brother believe I was dead. Then you sold me or traded me, I’m not even sure which it was. But, your terror didn’t stop there. You had to kill my parents too. You took fourteen years of my life that I can never get back. I am twenty-eight years old now and I’m just learning my place in the world. I’m discovering my likes and dislikes, teaching myself how to balance a checkbook and use a credit card. I’m learning how to let go of the pain you caused me and trying to move forward.”
Unable to continue, Deuce shakes his head. His eyes meet Cobra’s. Making his way toward the man who stands next to his sister as she discovers who she is, he takes the paper from his hands and turns to Yankovich.
“I know there are girls who aren’t as fortunate as me. Girls who have suffered a far worse nightmare than the one I survived. I pray for those girls. I pray the ones who died rest easy and the ones who are still lost become found. I pray for you too, Mr. Yankovich. I pray that Hell is real and that you find it.”
It’s Cobra’s turn to pause. His eyes skim the rest of the letter before he lifts his head. His light eyes find Jacks and before he continues to deliver his sister’s message, he mouths a silent thank you to Parrish.
“Before, I finish I want to tell you the story of how this letter came to be. I had given up on ever being rescued and reunited with the people I love so, when a man pointed a gun at me and another ordered him to kill me, I begged them both to put me out of my misery. A funny thing happened though. They didn’t kill me. Instead, those men saved my life. They brought me home, and I got my reunion. It wasn’t with my parents but, I got to hug my brother again. I have my best friend in my life and a little girl who calls me Aunt Ally. I got to fall in love too. You didn’t win, Mr. Yankovich. Those men who saved me, they’re the winners. They’re the men surrounding you, reading this letter. You see, Mr. Yankovich, they promised me that you would pay for everything you did to me. Everything you took from me. You would pay for it all. They asked me how they should execute your penance but, all I wanted was the last word. So, now the time has come for me to end this letter and for me to repeat the words you said to me the day you uprooted my life.”
Pausing, Cobra folds the paper in half as he crouches down and stares into Yankovich’s lifeless eyes.
“Mr. Yankovich, it is with profound peace that I tell you, you have nothing to fear.”
Ally gets the final word.
And, the underdogs—the men you thought were too broken for battle—those men prevail.
Chapter Forty-three
Blinking open my eyes the halogen lights temporarily blind me. Feeling slightly disoriented it takes me a moment to comprehend I’m no longer naked and bound to the diving board and that my worst fear is about to become my reality. The tubes in my nose feeding me oxygen help me realize I am safe and the nurses surrounding me prove I am in a hospital.
I try to speak but my mouth is dry.
“Hi, Ms. Monroe, I’m Dr. James do you remember why you were brought in?”
Thinking about the question, I close my eyes and playback the events that led me to this moment. The face of the man that took me from my uncle’s house flashes before me. Next, I remember waking up in the solarium. The man who took me is nowhere to be found and I come face to face with Vladimir Yankovich for the first time. It was then he ordered his men to strip me of my clothing. I remember preparing myself for the worst. My mind drifted to a safe place, to a place where evil didn’t live.
To Linc and our five-year plan.
To the little apartment we’d get in Brooklyn and the yappy little poodle I couldn’t wait to meet.
To the nights when he’d come home after a long day with his club and we’d eat tacos on the living room floor before we worked on another part of that plan.
I thought of how it would feel finding out I was pregnant and what Linc’s reaction might be.
Would we have a son or a daughter and would we have more than one child?
As I continued to think about the perfect ending to a beautiful song, Yankovich’s men tied me to the diving board. To my surprise, no one touched me or tried to violate me. They left me there terrified, facing my biggest fear and wondering if Linc knew where I was. If he would rescue me or if this would be the tragic chord he dreaded.
I realized I never should’ve doubted the man I love as he came storming into the solarium with his brothers behind him, ready to do whatever it took to save my life. The scene played in slow motion and I wasn’t sure where to look. I wanted to scream, I wanted to tell him I loved him and whatever the outcome I would always love him. More than all of those things, I wanted him to know this wasn’t his fault, and that I didn’t blame him.
The words never came. Mainly because I was gagged but also because it was then that Yankovich delivered my fate. His hands felt like fire on my body. It was degrading, and it was vile. Horrific is what it was. I was almost relieved when he threw me into the pool and decided drowning was my pardon.
But, that wasn’t how it was meant to end.
I always said I belonged at Linc’s side but, where I belonged was in his strong arms. It’s his embrace that was my home. The place I felt most safe. A place I knew I was loved.
It’s those arms that I wanted to spend the rest of my life in.
He rescued me from my biggest fear and in turn, faced his own.
I don’t remember much after that but, I remember staring into his eyes and knowing I was safe.
“Ms. Monroe?”
“Yes, I remember,” I say hoarsely. “We’ve started an IV to keep you hydrated, and the oxygen is more of a precaution. Are you in any kind of pain?”
Pausing, I assess my body noting my wrists and ankles are sore from being tied together but, that’s it.
“No, I’m just tired,” I tell him.
“Well, that’s understandable after what you’ve been through,” he says empathetically. “I will be back once I have the results of your blood work. The authorities are here and would like to question you but there is no rush.”
&
nbsp; Waiting for him to mention Linc, his words go in one ear and fade out the other.
“What about my boyfriend?”
“Mr. Brandt I’m assuming?”
“Yes,” I rasp.
“He’s been waiting outside,” he says. “I’ll send him in.”
Watching him walk away, I rest my eyes and promise myself I won’t fall asleep—not without seeing Linc first. It’s almost as if the air changes because the moment he walks into the room, I feel him. I feel his warmth, his love, and his adoration. They envelop me before he even touches me.
Taking my hand, he laces our fingers together and I force my eyes open just in time to watch him brush his lips across my knuckles.
“You’re really okay,” he murmurs against my skin. Noticing he’s in a wheelchair, my throat tightens.
“What about you?”
“I’m better now seeing you,” he rasps, squeezing my hand.
“The wheelchair,” I say.
“My legs are beat, baby. They took x-rays though and everything is good. I just can’t stand right now.”
Breathing a sigh of relief, I close my eyes.
“I’m tired, Linc.”
“Close your eyes,” he coaxes. “I’m not leaving your side.”
“Always and forever,” I whisper.
“Until my dying day,” he promises.
Keeping my eyes closed, I remember Igor Yankovich’s words.
“He called us Romeo and Juliet,” I rasp.
“Who?”
“Yankovich’s brother,” I reveal.
“We’re not Romeo and Juliet,” he says after a beat. “Their story was tragic.”
“A tragic chord,” I murmur.
“That’s not what we are,” he says huskily.
“I know,” I say, smiling. “I’ve always known. I was just waiting for you to realize it.”
“We’re so much more,” he replies. “We’re a songwriter’s dream.”
My smile widens.
“Hey,” he whispers. His thumb draws circles on my wrist. “They asked me if there was a possibility you could be pregnant.”
My eyes open at that.
“What did you tell them?” I question hoarsely.
The hope that burned out years ago, flourishes. It dances inside me as I watch his lips quirk.
“I said yes,” he replies, squeezing my hand. “Pinky, do the math,” he rasps. “It’s been almost five years since we made our plan.”
Staring at him, I smile knowingly.
“You want me to be pregnant,” I declared.
“I do,” he says, swallowing. “I want the pink dog too and as soon as we get the fuck out of here, we’re going apartment hunting,” he adds, leaning closer. “And, if that test comes back negative, we’re going to start trying. Really fucking trying. I’m not waiting anymore, Kelly. It’s our time now. It’s time for our dreams. It’s time to put that five-year plan in motion.”
“I’m ready,” I reply. “I’ve always been ready for you.”
“Close your eyes, Pinky. Dream big and I promise I’ll make them all come true,” he swears, pressing another kiss to my hand. “I love you, my little troublemaker.”
“Oh, but, I’m your favorite kind of trouble,” I tease, closing my eyes.
“Always and forever,” he says.
We were two lonely people, trying to find our way.
Searching for purpose, we found something neither of us could’ve expected.
We found solace.
We found love.
We found the other half of our souls.
In a world of ugly, we too, found our beautiful.
“Sing me a song, music man,” I plead, fighting sleep.
His voice sounds low in my ear and the soundtrack of us begins.
Just a small town girl, livin’ in a lonely world…
THE END
Praise Jesus! Glory Be! Halle-fucking-lujah! Pass the Booze!
Epilogue
Kelly and I didn’t waste any time putting our plan in motion. The pregnancy test came back negative but that was okay. It would happen. I’d get Kelly pregnant, I was sure of it. In the meantime, we were going to have a fuck of good time trying.
She was discharged the next morning and Stryker, Cobra and Deuce were waiting to take us home. The police had brought Jack, Blackie, Riggs and Pipe in for questioning. Seeing as we attacked Yankovich in Purchase, New York that made it a state issue, which meant things worked a little different than they did within the city limits. It also meant they weren’t privy to Yankovich’s crimes, and so they spent the night filling them in on the decades of torture.
Bas was brought into custody as well and remained long after the others were discharged. It turned out that the mother of Yankovich’s children was abducted by him years ago. The children were frightened and for some reason, Bas felt it was his duty to see them through the days that followed. Not that he was allowed access to them but, he wouldn’t leave without knowing how the story unfolded for those two kids. It was ironic considering he was the one who offered to use them as bait. Maybe it was his guilty conscience or maybe it was the years he spent in and out of the system. I’ll probably never find out.
Yankovich didn’t go down as easily as I thought and after Cobra finished reading Ally’s letter, Pipe took a knife to his neck.
Ally had the final word and Oksana had the final act.
It was a sliver of retribution for his crimes and still, it didn’t feel like it was enough.
Sure, Vladimir and Igor were dead but, so were many faceless girls the world had forgotten.
The authorities would spend the next months—years even—investigating the past and trying to locate all the girls he abducted. The odds of discovering another Ally were slim to none and the body count would likely exceed anyone’s imagination. The realization left us hollow but, there was nothing more we could do.
We weren’t in the business of rescuing people. That wasn’t our forte. We were just a bunch of guys looking to survive the streets we called home. Yankovich was out of our lives and it was time to rebuild. I’m not referring to the clubhouse but rather the foundation of who we are and what we stand for. Nothing can survive if it’s built on lies, not relationships and certainly not a motorcycle club.
My father wasn’t a good man. In fact, he was no better than Yankovich. I could lie to myself and say he was misguided and use him being a junkie as an excuse but, at the end of the day, my father knew what he was doing. He knew he had fucked up and like Wolf said, killing himself was an out for his crimes and leaving Jack holding the candle made him the biggest pussy to ever walk the face of the earth.
As I park my bike in front of Pipe’s garage, I realize I don’t regret my decision to be a Knight. What I regret is spending years chasing his ghost and thinking I’d fail him. Instead, I should’ve paid closer attention to the men surrounding me. If only I would’ve followed in their shoes, then maybe I would be half the man they are.
Loyal.
Honorable.
Respectable.
Maybe not to everyone but, to the people that matter most the Satan’s Knights of Brooklyn are the definition of those three things. As I make my way into the lit garage, I look around at the original members. Jack, Blackie, Pipe, and Riggs all stand huddled together. The only one missing from their circle is, Wolf. The beast gets a pass while his son is recovering from the gunshot wound. Both from the club and his diet seeing as I just dropped off a salami and mortadella hero to him at the hospital.
Focusing my attention back to Jack, I notice the dark and dangerous look that many fear is affixed to his face. Removing his cut, he hands it off to Blackie. The silent understanding between them fills the room as Jack, takes a seat on a stool in the center of the room. Beside him, Needles slides on a pair of latex gloves.
Pulling his shirt from his head, Jack hands it to Pipe. That’s when he spots me.
“I wasn’t expecting you,” he says as I walk further inside.
Shoving my hands into my pockets, I shrug my shoulders.
“I wanted to show my respect,” I admit.
My eyes dart to the rolling table in front of Needles and the tattoo gun he prepares.
“And, my gratitude,” I add, turning my gaze back to him. “I know I lied to all of you and I know looking at me will always be a reminder you can’t erase,” I say, nodding to the tattoo on his shoulder. “But, in case you doubted me, I wanted to make my intentions clear. I started my journey as a Knight looking to be like my father, hoping wherever he ended up, I was making him proud. The day I stepped foot into your clubhouse was the day that cause died. I am not my father’s son. I am not the spawn of Satan. I’m Lincoln Brandt a man who was lost but now found and I am your brother. My loyalty and respect belong to you,” I say.
Lifting my head, my eyes sweep the room.
“It belongs to all of you.”
“Sounds like you’re telling me something kid,” Jack says as he cocks his head. “You can say it.”
“I’m property of Parrish,” I reply hoarsely.
The words free me from my father’s chains as I watch Jack’s lips quirk.
“That’s a forever kind of thing, don’t you forget that.”
“Never,” I promise as the tattoo gun sounds. Diverting my attention to Needles, I watch as he lifts the gun to Jack’s shoulder and starts to black out his name.
A poignant moment in the history of the Satan’s Knights.
An end to a tumultuous era.
A hand covers my shoulder, startling me and as I turn my head, I take in the three men who were once as lost as me.
The drifter.
The wanderer.
The roamer.
Standing next to a loner, a band of new brothers.
It’s another poignant moment symbolizing a new beginning for the men in leather.
The future of the Satan’s Knights.
Bonus Scene
Some people believe nightmares are acts of terror that assault their subconscious while they sleep. Those people don’t know that nightmares are living things that haunt you every second of every day. They wrap their evil hands around your soul and suck you into a world of terror.
Loner Page 30