Fabio's Remorse (Hell Raiders MC Book 5)

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Fabio's Remorse (Hell Raiders MC Book 5) Page 20

by Aden Lowe


  Crank's voice rumbled in the hallway, but I couldn't hear what he said past the desperate pounding of my heart.

  An eternity later, Cherry and the other girls came in, grim faced and frowning. Georgie and Tanya came to me and started removing the things he used to tie me.

  "I'm sorry, honey, this will hurt." Tanya took hold of the tape over my mouth and pulled it loose all at once.

  Pain burst across my face, but I didn't care as I dragged in big gulps of air. "Fabio."

  "Cherry's checking on him." Georgie tried to soothe me, but I scooted across the bed, needing to see for myself.

  "He'll be okay. Just a nasty goose-egg on that hard head, and a few bruises. He's had far worse." Cherry rose from his side. "I'm going to grab a wet washcloth, bring his ass around."

  I dropped to my knees at his side, anxious to touch him. His hand presented the closest possibility, and I grabbed it with both of mine. "You have to be okay, Fabio, I can't lose you again." The tears I hated so much rolled again.

  Cherry returned, handing me a cold washcloth. "Here, honey, wipe his face. It'll wake him up."

  I prayed she was right, and followed her directions. After a moment, his eyelids flickered, and a wince crossed his face.

  "What the fuck happened?" His low growl touched every cell of my body.

  "You're okay, son." Cherry bent down to touch his face, as if reassuring herself of the truth of her words. "The bastard slipped in somehow. He clocked you good when you came in here, but Crank and Skates got him. They said tell you they're setting up in the garage, whenever you're ready."

  Fabio grunted, and pushed himself up to a half-sitting position. His eyes found me, and a look of profound relief spread over his face. "You okay, Jus?"

  I nodded, unable to speak past the lump in my throat.

  "Baby, I'm sorry. He should never have got by us." His face gray with pain, he pushed himself up to full sitting, then caught my hands and pulled me to him. "Fuck, I'm so sorry."

  Crank appeared in the doorway. "Hey, man, time to get the kids from the bus stop. You might want to pull yourselves together a little so you don't scare them when I get them here." He ducked out just as quickly.

  Georgie came in with another washcloth. "Here, sweetie, let's get you cleaned up." She knelt at my side and gently sponged at my face.

  Gratitude overwhelmed me, but this time I managed to hold back the tears.

  35

  Fabio

  A sledgehammer pounded in my head, and my ribs felt cracked, but I forced myself to my feet. "This does not touch the kids. Period. Understood?"

  Everyone around me nodded agreement. Justine tugged my arm over her shoulder. "Let's get downstairs. They haven't met everyone yet, so they'll want to see you right away."

  "Yeah." It took some work, but with her help, I managed to drag my ass down the stairs, and drop to a seat on the sofa. "What the hell did he hit me with, anyway?"

  "Crank said he had a breaker bar on his belt. It's a miracle he didn't break your thick skull." Cherry smiled. "I'm glad he didn't."

  I tried to chuckle. "Yeah, me too." Even more, I was glad to have Justine tucked in close to my side on the sofa.

  The kids came storming in, Crank in tow. "Are you okay?" The concern in Nicole's voice tore at my heart.

  "Yeah, honey, I'm okay." I pulled them both in close for a big hug, ignoring the pain in my ribs. "Just a little bump on the head."

  "Who hurted you, Fahv-bio?" Tyler's eyes were huge, betraying his fear.

  I balanced him on my knee. "You remember a bad man scared Justine?"

  The kid nodded.

  I considered how to tell the truth, without giving too much away and scaring him. "He tried to hurt her again. We stopped him, and he's gone now, but he hit me in the head first. He won't ever hurt anyone else again."

  "You sure?" That trusting face brought a lump to my throat.

  "Yeah, li'l man, I'm sure." I hugged him again. "Now, this is my friend, Cherry. How about you go to the kitchen with her. I bet she can find a good snack. She's really good at that."

  He gazed up at her, and seemed to immediately decide he could trust her. "Okay. I likes cookies."

  "Well, I might just be able to come up with some." She started for the kitchen and Tyler followed, chattering away about his day.

  Trip and Dix came in, standing silent by the door. I took the hint and leaned in to give Justine a light kiss. "Got some shit to take care of, baby. I'll be back." Standing up hurt like a motherfucker, but I did it, slow and careful. When I reached the door, the others led the way out to the garage, still silent.

  Skates lifted the corner of a tarp spread in the bed of the pickup, revealing a bound and gagged rapist, and supplies. Trip lifted an eyebrow, and I nodded in confirmation. I still had every intention of carrying out Hell Fire. Without a word, we all climbed into the pickup.

  On the street and rolling away from any potential unwanted listeners, Trip spoke. "Crank found us a location where noise won't be an issue. We'll take care of business, sanitize, and drop him off."

  I nodded. We'd agreed to go less lethal with this one. A few hours in hell was not enough punishment for all the lives he destroyed, so he would survive Hell Fire, at least for a time.

  Slightly over an hour outside town in the middle of BFE, Trip turned off the two-lane and drove slowly onto a rough dirt track, crossed a cattle guard, and continued on. We stayed quiet, not anticipating what we were going to do, but determined anyway. As the sun dipped near the horizon, we drove into a low barn. Crank rolled the doors shut behind us as we climbed out of the truck.

  "No worries about sound traveling?" Trip broke the silence.

  "None. Not even a fucking cow to hear him scream."

  "Good. Okay, let's get started." Trip pulled the tarp off and started spreading it at the back of the truck, while Skates grabbed a trio of halogen lanterns to provide the light we would need. Dix reached in for the duffel bag of tools and supplies, while I grabbed the motherfucker and heaved him off the truck.

  With a pair of heavy duty shears, the type emergency responders used to cut heavy clothing away from injuries in a hurry, Skates roughly stripped the rapist's clothes away, and ripped the duct taped gag off.

  He cried out as several layers of skin came off with the tape. "W-what are you going to do to me?"

  The terror on his face brought a grin to my face. "What do you think we should do to you, motherfucker?"

  He lay there before us, naked except for the zip ties holding his hands and feet bound tight, and fucking laughed. "Go ahead and kill me. I had a good run. People will still speak my name with fear." Guess that fear he showed at first was fake as fuck.

  I squatted down at the edge of the tarp, fully aware the man before me was a psychopath. "Now who said anything about killing, buddy? We wouldn't do nothing like that, would we boys?" Trip and the others chorused agreement. "That's getting into some serious shit there. Nah, we got other plans."

  He laughed again. "That's exactly what I thought. Well, do your worst, then. Turn me over to the cops. I could use a nice little state-funded vacation." He looked perfectly relaxed.

  Time for my own laugh. "You hear that boys? He wants us to do our worst. Guess it's time to get down to it, then." I leaned close. "I hope you're hungry, motherfucker."

  A flash of doubt crossed his face, but he quickly concealed it, and smiled. "Actually, I am."

  "Good. You'll like this little dish. We call it Hell Fire." I nodded to Trip, who had pulled a pair of Tyvek coveralls over his clothes, and put on a pair of heavy rubber gloves.

  Trip returned my nod. "Get him ready."

  Skates and Dix, also wearing Tyvek and rubber gloves, each knelt at one side. Skates cut the zip ties holding his feet. I stood, and moved off the tarp. We had decided since my ability to move was compromised, I would provide security. So I stood where I could see his face very well, and pulled my 9mm and clicked off the safety.

  At my nod of readiness, Skates
and Dix each grabbed a knee, and wrenched the man's legs up and apart. Trip went to work.

  "It's amazing the amount of damage the human body can sustain, and still live. Over the last year or so, we've had a chance to explore that pretty thoroughly. So I advise you to hold on for the ride, motherfucker." He took out a propane torch and lit it with his cigarette lighter. Next came a two-foot length of rebar. Using vice-grips to hold the rebar, Trip heated it until the steel began to glow reddish.

  The man started to struggle where Dix and Skates held him, and the fake fear he showed earlier turned real. "You can't—"

  "Now, be a good sport here, buddy. How many of your victims said those exact words?" Trip gave his bloodthirsty grin. "I'll tell you the same thing you told them. I not only can, but I will." He bent down a little, still heating the rebar. "The key here is temperature. Too cool, and you'll bleed out from the damage fairly quickly. Too hot, and the shock might stop your heart. Just right, and the tissues will cauterize as it goes in, allowing you to experience all the pain, without the risk of catastrophic bleeding."

  I had to admit, this side of Trip curdled my blood, and I called him Brother. Until he met Tanya, and suddenly had a reason to turn into a cold, ruthless bastard, he was fairly easy-going. The Saxons MC changed us all, but him more than the rest of us. Even if my stomach rolled with the knowledge of what was coming, I didn't look away.

  "I'd say that's about perfect." Trip turned off the torch, grabbed a three-pound sledge, lined up the reddened end of the rebar with the rapist's asshole, and swung the sledge.

  The man's agonized scream ripped through the barn as eight inches of red-hot steel plunged into his ass. After a few seconds, his eyes rolled back in head, and he fell silent, unconscious.

  Trip caught the bottle of water Dix tossed his way and poured it over the steel, cooling it rapidly. "Can't have him cooking all the way yet." He traded places with Skates, who splashed more water on the man's face to wake him.

  "Well, hey there, sunshine. You ready for the next course?"

  "No! No, please! No more!" The rapist's sobs had as little effect as his victims' had.

  "Well, buddy, you said do our worst. We ain't even started yet. See, the secret to calling a bluff is knowing what the other man's holding. Now you might think you're some big bad serial killer, but I got news for you. We've been at it a lot longer, and a lot more successfully, than you could dream of."

  Dix took over. "So you raped and killed a few women. That's small potatoes, man. We take down killers, criminals, thugs, men who make the world quake with fear just by their presence. And you know what? Nobody even fucking knows. You ain't even made it out of nursery school, buddy." He gave Skates the nod.

  "No, please! I'll do anything!"

  Skates grinned and took out his knives. "What, you practice your lines? Keep going. Won't do you no good." He dropped to one knee. "I grew up on a farm. One of the biggest jobs every summer was castrating all the young male animals. The secret is to use a really sharp blade, and work fast, to cut down the pain for the beast." He gave a nasty smile. "But you ain't no beast, and ain't innocent. You might want to grab on to something, 'cause this is going to hurt like a motherfucker."

  The man screamed before Skates even touched him, and at the first bite of the blade, started puking. Dix and Trip rolled him a little so he wouldn't choke, and Skates kept working. He was still going strong about half a minute later when Skates flipped a pair of testicles on the tarp by the man's face.

  "Hope you didn't plan on havin' kids, 'cause that ship done sailed, buddy." Dix tossed a greasy shop rag over the wound and applied pressure for a couple minutes. "My turn now. You still hungry?"

  The man shook his head frantically, beyond begging anymore.

  "Aw, come on, I'm a real good cook." Dix surrendered his place to Skates and took up a position in front of the bastard's face. He pulled a tiny camp stove from the duffel, and a little cast iron skillet, only about four inches across. "Now, if we wasn't short on time, I might slice the meat real thin, add some mushrooms and onions, but we're in a li'l bit of hurry here, so I'm just gonna pan fry it."

  As soon as the skillet heated, Dix made a big show of opening a butter packet from some fast food joint and dropping the butter into the pan with a sizzle. With a pleased smile, he skewered the testicles with a meat fork, and placed them in the skillet like a fucking chef with some highly prized cut of meat.

  The rapist turned into a blubbering mess as the smell of his balls frying permeated the barn. The rest of us might have went a little green around the gills, but he was too far gone to realize it. After a couple minutes, Dix pronounced his dish done, and placed it on a plate with a fork and knife.

  At his nod, Trip freed the rapist's hands. "Now, buddy, I know you can't sit up, on account of the rebar stuck up your ass. God knows, I wouldn't want you to hurt yourself, or something. So you gonna have to just kind prop up on your elbow. Normally, we'd let you feed yourself, but in the interest of time, I'll help."

  While Skates held the bastard's head, forcing him to watch, Dix made a big show of cutting a chunk off one of the balls. "Open wide, buddy." He shoved the fork into the man's mouth.

  When the rapist tried to spit, Skates clamped his hand over his mouth and nose. "Swallow, motherfucker, if you want to breathe."

  He complied. By the time he reached the sixth and final bite, he didn't even struggle.

  Moving fast, Trip bound him again and opened a package containing a new blanket. "Now, buddy, I would take that rebar out of your ass, but that might make you bleed to death before we're ready. So I'm going to roll you into this blanket, and we'll put you back in the truck. We'll clean up here, drive you back to town, and drop you off somewhere." Trip rolled him into the blanket, as promised. "Oh, and buddy? Anybody asks what happened to you, you tell them Hell Fire."

  Shaking violently with shock, the man gasped, then spoke. "I know your name, where you live. Y-you won't get by with this." He looked squarely at me as he said it.

  I laughed. "Well, see, if you say anything, you have to admit who you are and what you've done. Now, if anyone come's asking about you? I don't know shit. But I will know you opened your mouth. Then, no matter where you are, what kind of protection you think you have, you'll get another visit from my friends. And this will seem like a walk in the park."

  Dix and Skates lifted him, slung him back into the truck, and covered him with a fresh tarp, while Trip gathered and cleaned the tools and returned them to the duffel. Crank rolled up the original tarp, with all the mess and evidence inside.

  He tossed Trip a small baggie. "Contents of his pockets."

  Trip nodded. "Good. I'll note everything down and send it on to our friends. That way they'll know who to visit if the need arises."

  "Have a nice ride, motherfucker." I shut the tailgate, and joined Trip, Dix, and Skates in the truck. Crank took the evidence to dispose of it.

  In the very early morning, we made a quick stop in town, not far from the Sheriff's Office, carefully out of range of any security cameras. We dropped our passenger off, lowering him to lie on the sidewalk. A brief note tucked into the blanket explained who, and what, he was.

  36

  Fabio

  As darkness fell the next day, the national news media had picked up the story of the rapist found tortured and mutilated, and still alive, in a tiny town in Oklahoma. Reaction was mixed, with cries for the police to arrest whoever had tortured the poor victim, and a loud chorus of approval.

  Worried about how Justine was handling the whole thing, I spoke to Crank for a moment. When he agreed readily to my request, I wrapped my arms around her. "Come on, let's get out of here."

  "What?" Startled eyes peered up at me. "Where?"

  "Leave that part to me. It's a surprise."

  "But, I can't go anywhere! I look terrible. And you ruined the only bra I had with me." The very normal, very female, alarm in her voice made me smile.

  "I guess the mall is our first
stop then. Besides, I'm told a t-shirt and club cut isn't the appropriate attire for many activities." I gave a long-suffering sigh. "We can take the SUV, so I don't mess my hair up."

  She came up with about a dozen objections, but the girls encouraged her to go with me, and she finally relented.

  I by-passed the mall in town, and headed into OKC. There, I found what I wanted—not teen and casual clothing stores. As we parked, Crank texted with our reservation information, right on time. Inside, I found one of those fancy boutiques, and led Justine through the door.

  "What are you doing?" She pulled back a little.

  Ignoring her, I focused on the anorexic-looking shop girl. "Can I have a word, please?"

  Her fake-purple gaze flicked nervously over me, but she nodded, and I stepped a few feet from Justine. "My lady's been through a rough few days. I'm taking her to Carlini's for dinner. She needs everything from the skin out, head to toe. Whatever you don't have here, can you make arrangements for, and see she's taken care of?" I slipped her five hundred-dollar bills.

  The purple eyes widened. "Of course. What's the time frame?"

  I glanced at my watch, and gave her the reservation time. "I also need a good men's shop, since I doubt the maître de would appreciate this look."

  She smiled, won over. "Probably not. Okay, it's unusual, but I can make sure everything is ready in time."

  I handed over a credit card, and told her to knock herself out and impress me, then went back to Justine. "Okay, baby. This young lady will help you find something to wear. I'm going over to the men's shop and see if I can find a fucking shirt."

  She smiled, accepted my kiss, and totally missed my wink at the shop girl.

  I found the right place a few shops down. By the time the shop girl—this one with fake aqua-marine eyes—finished with me, I had to admit, I was impressed. But when I went to pick up Justine, I could barely pick my own jaw up off the floor.

  Purple-eyes had outdone herself. Justine's hair was swept up off her neck into an elegant knot, and tasteful makeup accented her natural beauty. A rich blue dress hugged every curve, ending just above her knee. She seemed equally awestruck.

 

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