by S. Nelson
Yanking down the man’s briefs made him come to life—well, whatever was left of him, at least. He tried to struggle, but his strength eluded him. Instead his eyes bulged as best they could and he tried to speak, his garbled voice incoherent to the rest of us. I thought he said, “Please, don’t,” but I couldn’t be sure. Either way, it didn’t matter; his fate had been decided, and no amount of begging would change it. If anything, his whimpers would do more harm than good, although I couldn’t fathom what “more harm” would entail at that point.
Marek stretched his arm across the table and passed me the vice grip. “Put his dick in this, then grab his balls tight.”
Those were the ten most menacing words I’d ever heard.
Yanez knew what was coming, and although he tried to fight again, it was useless. His death was imminent, but how long would it be before the reaper came to steal him from this life?
With every slice Marek made, separating two of the three body parts which made Yanez a man, he whimpered uncontrollably, thrashing as much as he could while in our grasp. There was an unwritten rule among men: Never go for the nuts. That being said, what Marek was doing to Yanez was justified. In our eyes, at least.
My arm jerked back when Marek had finished, my eyes instantly going to the area between Yanez’s legs. Blood poured forth in spurts. It would only be a matter of minutes before he bled out completely, I was sure of it.
With his free hand, our president wrenched a piece of duct tape he’d pre-cut from the edge of a utility cart. “Tripp,” he called, “open his mouth.” The nomad jumped into action, prying Yanez’s jaw wide and holding steady while Marek shoved the man’s balls past his stretched lips. As soon as Tripp released his grip, our leader slapped the piece of duct tape over his mouth, pressing down to make sure it was securely in place.
Stepping back, Marek gazed at his handiwork, a look of satisfaction covering his face as his eyes roamed the full length of his victim. Nodding hastily, as if he’d agreed with a silent conversation he’d been having with himself, he jerked his chin toward Stone and Ryder.
“Bring him to the corner so we can string him up,” Marek instructed. The two men shot into action, dragging the ex-cartel member from the table and across the room. Standing him upright, they placed his wrists in the shackles built into the wall, letting him dangle once they’d released him. The position would allow him to bleed out quicker than lying on the table. And if blood loss wouldn’t cause his demise, then suffocation would.
We all stood there watching Yanez struggle during the last minutes of his life. Silence comforted us while we witnessed the warranted punishment.
Five minutes turned into ten, which turned to twenty.
He still breathed.
Another five minutes passed.
Finally deciding enough was enough, Marek walked toward the strung-up man and raised his hand to Yanez’s nose, pinching his nostrils to hurry his death along.
A slight twitch was the only form of life still left inside him.
Two minutes later, he was dead.
Finally.
Kena
“What?” Braylen shouted. “Absolutely not. Don’t you even think about it, Kena,” she continued, pacing in front of me while she tried to control her sudden outburst. “There is no way in hell I’m going to allow you to meet him. No,” she said, suddenly stopping to look me in the eye. “He’s not the guy I thought he was. You have to see it too.” She resumed pacing. “You just have to.” Pushing loose blonde strands away from her eyes, she pinned me with a concerned look. “I made a mistake when I encouraged you to give him a chance, a mistake I regret with every fiber of my being. Putting you in harm’s way is the last thing I ever wanted. And now you’re telling me you want to hear him out? No,” she repeated, shaking her head in earnest.
Because my sister’s back was to me, I couldn’t respond. Breaching the few steps between us, I reached for her shoulder. Turning her around, I narrowed my brows and cocked my head slightly to the side.
I know you’re concerned for me, but I’m a big girl. I can make my own decisions, so stop treating me like a child. My hands fell to my sides in exasperation. I parted my lips, expelling the air from my throat, but no matter how much I willed the words to take flight, it was utterly useless. Most days I accepted and even reveled in being mute, but then there were instances where the silence kept me chained to a frustrating existence.
Stilling her movements, Braylen unexpectedly pulled me into a hug, wrapping her arms tightly around me as if she thought I would disappear. After countless seconds she pulled back, her warm breath fanning the side of my face. “It’s my job as your big sister to look out for and take care of you.” I tried to distance myself to respond, but her hold on me intensified. “I know you’re not a kid anymore. I do,” she said dejectedly, as if she wished the opposite were true, “but that doesn’t mean I won’t stop trying to protect you. I don’t care if you’re fifty. I’ll always look out for you.” A small smile tipped her lips upward, the love she held for me shining brightly in her brown eyes. “And as such, I’m warning you to stay away from Jagger. For your own good.” She finally took a step back, allowing me the distance I craved in order to respond to her ludicrous threat.
Every muscle in my body locked up, anger dancing on the edge of every gesture I made. And if I don’t? What will you do?
At first I thought my sister had been bluffing, mere worry for me pushing her toward an argument. But it wasn’t until her next statement that I completely understood how far she’d go to make me comply.
“I’ll tell Mom and Dad.”
My mouth dropped open, and it was a good thing for her right then that I couldn’t speak because I’d be cursing her every which way to Sunday. So instead, as usual, my hands were a flurry of activity, gesturing so fast I was sure she missed most of what I told her.
I can’t believe you would stoop so low as to tattle on me like some five-year-old brat. You know damn well Mom and Dad would worry themselves sick if you filled their heads with lies. She started to speak but I cut her off with a fierce scowl. While I realize what happened was bad, the last thing they need to do is worry about me. You telling them would only make things worse. Please.
I started off angry, but by the end I pleaded with her not to interfere. I couldn’t explain my incessant need to see Jagger again, not even to myself, but the one thing I did know was that I’d never felt this way toward anyone. Even with my lack of experience with the opposite sex, I felt the pull, the undeniable connection between us, and I wanted to see him again to make sure I hadn’t made it up in my mind, that I wasn’t crazy.
Braylen just stood there, hands planted firmly on her hips, waiting. For what I wasn’t sure, but at least in silence I could hope she relented. I should’ve known better, though.
“I swear I’ll bring our parents into this if you agree to see him, Kena,” she warned. A standoff ensued between us, her unwavering and me staring at her in utter disbelief. When I realized she wasn’t going to give in, I offered what I thought was a fair compromise. At least I hoped she would see it as such.
How about if you come with me when I meet him? That way, you’ll know I’m safe. Plus you’ll hear what he wants to tell me and find out for yourself that he’s not someone I should be afraid of.
“I don’t think Jagger is the person you should fear, but the types of people he surrounds himself with. But then again, what the hell do I know? I thought he was a safe bet. His coming to our rescue that night fooled me. I let my guard down because I saw the way he looked at you, and I wanted so badly for you to open up to someone. To really start living, experiencing life, instead of hiding away in the back of the restaurant all the time.”
If I looked up “stubborn” in the dictionary, there would be a picture of Braylen, smiling and flipping off the reader. I knew whatever reply I gave wouldn’t deter my sister, but I tried anyway. Don’t judge him on one incident.
“That was a pretty big fuckin
g incident,” she yelled, anger wrapping around her like a blanket. Waving my hand in her direction in frustration, dismissing our entire conversation, I walked past her, my shoulder bumping into hers as I headed out of her bedroom. She saw the look on my face, I was sure, anger mixed with sadness. “Kena!” she shouted. “Wait.”
I ignored her, snatched my keys from the table near the door and rushed out of the house. Clicking the key fob to my car, I got in and turned over the engine, sitting in silence for a few minutes. Maybe I’d hoped Braylen would chase me outside and plead with me to forgive her. What did I get instead? A lousy text message telling me she wouldn’t budge, no matter how angry I was with her. She was only looking out for me, blah, blah, blah. I didn’t need her love and protection, though. Even though I didn’t have much experience when it came to guys, I really thought I could handle myself. Being mute didn’t thwart my knee from connecting with Jagger’s balls if I felt I needed to fight back for some reason. Although, the last thing I wanted to do was hurt his family jewels. No, I could think of many other things I wished to do with that region of his body.
Simply thinking of him caused a warmness to float through me, shivers of delight shooting to my own nether region. Lost in dirty thoughts of writhing around with the fighter, the sudden knock on my window made me jolt. My hand flew to my chest in surprise and I inhaled a quick breath of air. Glancing to my left, I saw Braylen watching me, probably wondering what the hell I was doing just sitting in the car. Thank God she wasn’t a mind reader; otherwise she’d be giving me the riot act about my daydreams.
Her fist pounded again, that time with a bit more urgency. Finally lowering the window, I expected to hear an apology, but no such words came out of her mouth. She did say something that made me happy, however.
“Okay. Fine,” she relented. “I’ll go with you to meet him. But it has to be out in the open with lots of people around, and it has to be in broad daylight. Preferably Neelan Park.”
I could certainly accommodate her request, especially if it meant I could see Jagger again without worry she’d find out and make good on her threat to bring my parents into the situation.
Braylen never waited for my response, instead turning on her heel and walking back inside the house. But that was okay; I’d gotten the answer I’d wanted.
Now all I had to do was wait for Jagger to contact me again. He’d told me he’d be away for a few days, but if he didn’t text me soon, my sister would surely tell me “I told you so,” and the last thing I wanted was for her to be right about him.
I wanted to prove her wrong in the worst way.
Jagger
Everyone had left the safe house except for Cutter and me. It was up to us to dispose of Yanez’s body. Well, to be more factual, it was my job to get rid of him, but Cutter volunteered to help. I had no idea why, but I welcomed his assistance nonetheless.
Silence teased us while we busied ourselves in unchaining Yanez from the wall, laying him on top of the thick green tarp we’d readied, rolling him up and carrying him out to the garage. The guys who’d gone to pick up the ex-cartel member caught rides back with Breck, who’d thought ahead and brought his truck, leaving the van for us to use. Stuffing the dead man in the back of the vehicle was the easy part. When Cutter sat his ass down in front of the television, I knew I was on my own with cleaning up the mess in the bowels of the house.
Oddly enough, while I hosed the blood off the concrete ground, the red-tinged water sliding across the surface and disappearing down the drain set in the floor, Kena popped into my head. At first, it disturbed me that I thought of her while cleaning up after a kill, but it was exactly why the images of her bombarded me.
The world I’d immersed myself in was dangerous, no doubt about it. I realized selfishness drove me to pursue her, even though I knew she didn’t belong anywhere near me. Yes, the Knights were going legit, but we still had shit to clean up, and until everything was put to bed, the threat against all of us was grave.
Yanez had finally been dealt with, which meant there was only one remaining loose end to tie up.
Psych Brooks.
Sully’s bastard of a father.
When and where that man would cease to exist still baffled me, as I was sure it did Marek and the rest of the guys. Everyone itched to finish the war between us and the Savage Reapers, and we all realized more blood would be shed before it was over.
But how much, and whose, were the real questions.
Throwing the rags I’d used to clean off the table into a nearby garbage bag, I glanced around the room one last time to make sure I hadn’t missed anything. Shutting off the light, I ascended the stairs and announced I’d finished. Clicking the remote, Cutter rose from the sofa and led the way back out to the garage.
The club’s safe house wasn’t used for disposal of bodies, and from what I’d heard, there had been quite a few. You don’t shit where you eat, so to speak, so we drove for an hour before turning down a partially hidden dirt pathway. The secluded area was perfect, far away from both of the areas the club used.
Tossing me a shovel from the back, Cutter and I made quick work of finding the perfect spot to bury Yanez. Flashlights resting on the ground illuminated the darkness while we worked, flinging sodden dirt behind us while we unearthed his new home. It’d rained hours prior, which made the soil heavy, requiring a bit more muscle, but neither of us complained.
A few times I’d opened my mouth to make chitchat, but every time I ended up thinking better of it. What were we gonna talk about, the weather? No, the situation called for concentration and quiet. The quicker we finished the better.
After a grueling two hours, we’d managed to dig deep enough to conceal the body without worry, cover him back up and start the drive back to the clubhouse. I would’ve ridden my bike but I’d asked Stone to take it back for me, realizing I’d be in no condition to be out on the open road with a tiredness which would undoubtedly get me killed.
Resting my head against the passenger side window, I closed my eyes and wondered when my life would start to fall into place. Question after question arose.
When would Marek decide me worthy enough to patch me in as a full member, solidifying my loyalty for good?
Would Snake decide to come after me again? Would he end up getting lucky and kill me?
As slumber beckoned me, Kena’s beautiful face popped into my head. In my mind she spoke, telling me how much she wanted to be with me. Fantasy, I knew, but it was the peace I needed to drift off during the last stretch of our ride. I only hoped she wouldn’t go back on her promise to meet me.
With a jolt, the van came to a stop. “Fuck,” I groaned, rubbing the side of my head while Cutter grunted out some garbled noise. Clutching the door handle, I pulled the lever toward me and flung the door open, practically falling out of the vehicle I was so uncoordinated.
The last couple days had drained me, especially that evening. I was physically and mentally exhausted, and all I wanted to do was crash for the night. Didn’t matter where; the couch inside the club would do just fine.
Lazily strolling across the lot, my eyes stayed on the entrance to the building with one goal in mind: forget everything that had happened in the past twelve hours.
The waiting.
The uncertainty of my role in the revenge against Yanez.
The torture.
The dismemberment.
The blood.
The burial.
The end of Yanez, once and for all.
The last part comforted me while the rest of it sickened me. I played the tough, unaffected guy, but deep down I was unsure of a lot of things in life. My sense of self had been warped since I could remember. In some small way, my father still held power over me, making me question my worth every now and again. It was why the Knights were so important to me, and why I would do whatever was asked without question.
Loyalty.
I’d never had it before I’d become a part of them. Even though I was the low ma
n on the totem pole, tasked with the worst jobs from time to time, I knew every one of those members would have my back if and when I needed them.
It was why I held my tongue when Marek gave me a verbal lashing whenever he felt he needed to. It was why I never retaliated with my fists when he punished me for getting too close with his wife when he’d asked me to watch over her.
And it was why I respected his dislike for me, staying clear of Sully when I saw her, even though all I wanted to do was make sure she was okay. The innate need to protect her battled within, though I wasn’t quite sure why. Maybe because of the way she’d looked so lost when she first came to stay with us. Or maybe it was because I saw a woman trying to make sense of her new life, silently pleading for someone to help her.
Maybe I read into things which weren’t there.
Maybe I didn’t.
All I did know was that as time passed, and wrongs against her were righted, she would start to heal.
“Prospect! Come here,” Marek demanded, standing in the entryway to Chambers, looking beat down and tired as hell. With my shoulders squared, I huffed and silently counted to ten as I approached, dodging the throngs of men who were partying it up like we hadn’t just tortured someone. Almost a dozen members from the Laredo chapter had arrived a day or so before, setting up camp to make sure nothing popped off while we were gone. And now that the ordeal was finished, it was time for them to party, to engage in a ruckus, although I wanted no part of it this time.
Standing a foot away from Marek, something in his bloodshot eyes softened when he looked at me, but it was gone before I could read further into it. Moving to the side, he allowed me to pass and enter the room where we met about all things club-related. The good and the bad.