“I’m sorry, man. I’m scared and, and…”
“When was your last fix?”
“I’m fine.”
Like fuck he is. Diarrhea is one of the first signs of withdrawal, and the fact he’s rubbing his arms probably means he’s in some pain.
“Do you have anything in the house? A hit to tide you over?”
Ben nods.
“Go get it. Do it in the bathroom and clean yourself up. You’ve got less than ten minutes. And don’t assume I won’t take your useless ass out of here naked if I have to.”
Ben scrambles to his feet and goes into the kitchen with Cutter keeping an eye on him. Sean widens his eyes and holds a hand over his mouth. The stench is disgusting. When Ben walks back past us, Sean does a sidestep to put more distance between them. I wait until the door is closed to the bathroom before I speak.
“Who’s coming to pick him up?”
“Angus, he won’t let anyone drive his precious van,” replies Sean.
Cutter barks out a laugh. “Yeah, do you think he knows the way here?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask.
“Nothing. Is he bringing the kid?”
I stare at Sean, who shrugs. “You did tell him to babysit.”
Great.
The last thing Logan needs is to be dragged deeper into his defective family.
“What did you say to Ben while we were outside?”
Cutter’s lips go up in a self-satisfied smirk. “He asked if we were going to let him live, and I told him no.”
I sigh and look up at the ceiling. “Jesus, Cutter, go check on him.”
“Why?”
I quirk an eyebrow, and he stomps toward the bathroom like a petulant child. Cutter knocks once, then tries to open the door. It’s locked, so he knocks again and then steps back and kicks it open. Ben is standing there naked, staring at the floor. Cutter walks around him, turns on the shower, and pushes Ben under the spray.
Shaking my head, I say, “This has been one very long fucking day.”
“Yeah. I’m going to go outside and ring my girl.”
I address Sean. “Will Beth be awake?”
“She doesn’t sleep well when I’m not home, and she’s a country girl. Beth gets up with the sun.”
Sean moves outside, and I follow him to the door. The first rays of a new day are streaking across the sky. It’s been nearly twenty-four hours since Lola went missing. In the space of a day, my world has gone to hell. I swear when I get my hands on Lola, if she’s still alive, I’m going to kill her myself for putting me through this. Then, we’re going to have a serious talk about secrets.
Cutter appears beside me. “He’s clean and in the process of getting dressed.”
“Thanks, Cutter.”
“Prez, what are you going to do with him?”
“Lola’s decision.”
“And if she’s dead?”
Sharply, I turn and face him. “She’s not.”
Cutter nods. “Right.”
He walks away from me, back toward Ben.
Sean taps me on the shoulder and then puts his cell away. “You all right? You look like you’re about to rip his head off.”
Cracking my knuckles one at a time, I say nothing and walk back through the house with Sean right behind me.
“Beth says, hello.”
“Cool.”
Ben is in his bedroom, dressed in clean clothes, looking slightly better. His dirty-blond hair has been combed, and he appears fresher. He certainly smells better. There’s a knock at the front door. Sean holds a finger to his lips and pulls his gun out as he moves toward the front of the house. Cutter and I pull out our guns as we watch Sean crack the door an inch only to swear, holster his gun, and open the door wider.
Standing there is Angus and Logan.
“You bought the kid?” I ask.
“Yeah, we were out getting breakfast, so…”
Cutter laughs. “Right, breakfast. What did you get?”
For a second, Angus looks surprised. “Ah, we didn’t get there yet.”
Cutter laughs harder. “I bet.”
“What the fuck is going on between you two?” I ask.
“Nothing,” they say in unison.
“I swear if you’re keeping something from me, I’ll beat you bloody.”
Cutter pats my shoulder. “It’s nothing, Prez. Let’s get moving.”
Kyle
Ben guides us to Tommy’s house. Sean goes in first and comes out moments later, shaking his head.
“No one is in there. The bathroom has red hair dye everywhere.”
“What does that mean?” I ask.
“Maybe they’re trying to disguise themselves… or Lola.”
Lola has long blonde hair. Unlike her mother and brother, it’s a golden color. I can’t picture her as a redhead.
“Was there anything in there of use?”
“Not a fucking thing.” Sean stares at the van and lowers his voice. “What are you going to do with Ben?”
“Throw him in the pit.”
Sean’s eyebrows go up, and he purses his lips. “Harsh.”
“He’s lucky I don’t let Cutter skin him.”
Sean quivers as though someone has walked across his grave. “Scary fucker.”
The pit is an area of land we own on the outskirts of town. It consists of a large shed where we hold parties, and fifty feet away from it is a well. We call it the pit. There’s about a foot of dank water in the bottom, and the only way out is if we drop a rope and haul you out. It smells, and it’s dark as we put a cover over the top. You have two choices—you can stand or you can sit—but both are miserable.
“You drive him out with Cutter. Give Angus your keys.”
Sean quirks an eyebrow at me. “What now?”
“Jesus, Sean, it’s a fucking bike, not a newborn baby. Besides, Angus can ride.”
“If he so much as—”
“I know, I know,” I say, cutting him off.
Begrudgingly, he hands over his keys and walks toward the van. Logan climbs out of it and steps toward me.
“Angus isn’t happy.”
I give him a sideways glance. “Why?”
“Doesn’t want to hand over his van.”
I swear there are days I feel like I’m running a fucking special-needs school for a bunch of misfits. Glaring at Angus, he slowly gets out of the van, and Sean climbs in. They exchange a few words, and then Angus walks to me.
He goes to speak, and I hold up a hand, which makes him snap his mouth shut, then I toss the keys to Sean’s bike at him.
“Come on, Logan, you can ride with me.”
I climb on, and the kid gets on behind me. We have just over an hour before we’re supposed to meet with the Rochas’ cartel.
I need coffee, Tylenol, and a moment to myself.
Ben
The air is thick down here. It’s so dark I can’t see my hand in front of my face. I’ve been screaming for hours, so much so I can barely raise my voice above a whisper. There are things slithering in the fetid water. I’ve tried to catch them, but I haven’t managed to even touch one.
Or is it my imagination playing tricks on me?
Have I really been in here for hours?
Maybe I’ve only been here for a few minutes?
“Hello?”
My whisper echoes back to me.
Looking up, there’s nothing but darkness.
They called it the pit.
I begged them, but they talked over me as though I wasn’t even there.
Sean wrapped a rope around my waist and pushed. I struck my arm on the way down. It’s not broken, but the skin was scraped off my elbow, and it damn well hurts.
Again, I try to climb up out of this hell hole. My fingers can’t find purchase on the slippery stones as I attempt to heave myself up. This time I manage to get higher than last time, but my feet can’t find a footing, and my fingers are unable to hold me. With a strangled cry, I let go and fall back into
the stinky water.
This is all Lola’s fault.
If only she’d gone along with the plan, none of this would have happened.
Slinking back down, I sit in the water.
It’s cold.
I’m exhausted.
My body begins to shake, the tears start to fall down my face.
“Hello?” The word is nothing more than a whisper.
Kyle
In total, I have four men with me, and the Rochas have fifteen. To say I’m feeling uncomfortable is an understatement. Wheels flanks me on one side and Sean the other. All weapons were left at the door. The only person in this room I’m worried about is Angus. He says he can take care of himself, but I’ve never seen him in a fight. My instinct, if things go sideways, will be to protect him.
I should’ve left him at the clubhouse.
“Can I use the head?” asks Angus, and I scowl at him.
One of our escorts laughs. “Weak bladder?”
“I’m on a cleanse,” replies Angus with fake sincerity.
The guy holds up an arm and gestures for Angus to walk ahead of him.
Angus stands and smiles. “Won’t be long.”
“See that you aren’t,” I reply, giving him a stern look.
Angus nods and walks out of the room.
Sean shakes his head and begins to tap on the table.
We’ve been sitting here for twenty minutes. There’s no conversation. The other men are either sitting or standing around the large oval table. It’s polished so much you can see your reflection on the top of its cherry-red surface.
Wheels glances around the room at no one in particular and asks, “How far away is Cristiano?”
“He won’t be long,” replies a man near the door.
He’s wearing dark gray dress pants, a long-sleeved white shirt, and shiny black dress shoes. Compared to the others who are in jeans and T-shirts, he stands out.
I crack my knuckles and stare at him. “I believe it’s time for introductions,” I say, staring at the man. “I’m Kyle MacKenny.”
The guy smiles and nods. “We know who you are. Kyle MacKenny, thirty-five, spends most of his time at the Loyal Rebels compound but does have a house that was left to him by his grandfather, Kyle MacKenny, his namesake. You have five brothers, two of which you have brought with you.” He moves around the table and stands opposite me, placing both hands on the back of a chair and leans forward. “You did have a sister, who was killed in a car bomb incident.”
“I’m feeling all warm and cozy, thanks for that. How about you tell me who you are?”
He smiles and shakes his head. “The one thing I don’t understand is we came to you when we first set up in this area, offered you friendship, and you turned us down. But here you are wanting to be friends?”
Pushing back my chair, I stand and place my hands on the table and lean toward him. “From what I can gather from my Sergeant-at-Arms, we have been friendly. And that’s as friendly as we want to get. You stay out of our business, and we’ll stay out of yours.”
The man flicks a glance at Wheels and grins. “So, you’re not here to talk business?”
“I’m here because one of us is missing and another is dead.”
“You think we did this?”
“Right now, I’m not sure. What I want is to talk to Cristiano.”
The man looks behind me and nods at someone. I don’t turn around. I want this fucker to know he doesn’t scare me. The tension in the room has a life of its own. I sense my men and the others becoming hyperaware of each other. Without having to speak, I know my men are starting to select their targets and communicating silently with each other. It’s at that moment I hear the unmistakable sound of a switchblade being opened and closed.
Fucking Cutter.
We all turn to stare at him. He’s staring at the guy opposite me, casually opening and closing his blade, smiling like he’s already killed him.
“We said no weapons.”
Cutter’s smile turns into a grin. “This isn’t a weapon. It’s a pig sticker. I left my gun at the door.”
Angus walks back into the room and sits next to Sean. “Immaculate facilities if you fellas need to go.”
It’s enough for the tension in the room to drain away. The guy opposite me chuckles, and I glance at Cutter, who puts his knife away. A door behind me opens, and a man dressed in jeans, a white T-shirt, and an ornate gold brocade vest enters the room. He immediately goes to the head of the table and sits.
“Carlos, did you offer our guests refreshments?” he asks.
“No, Cristiano, I was waiting for you.”
Cristiano looks at me. “Sit. Can we offer you a coffee? It’s my own special blend. It’s exceptionally good.”
“Sure, why not?” I sit back down and gaze at Carlos. “I take mine black.”
The man scowls at me and leaves the room.
“I’m sorry I am late. Traffic,” Cristiano offers by way of an explanation.
We both know there wasn’t any traffic. This was all about a show of force. Cristiano was letting me know that he’s more important. He arranged the meet to be on his turf, at his time and showed up late, so I’d know who was calling the shots. The thing Cristiano doesn’t know about me is that I don’t play games. If push comes to shove, I’ll wipe them all out, war be damned.
“Can we get down to it?”
“Of course,” replies Cristiano as he straightens his vest and leans back in his chair. “How can we help?”
“Someone has been taken from us. We retraced the route of the van that was used, and they came here first.”
He raises his eyebrows and taps his perfectly manicured finger on the table. “Here! They came here after they took this person?”
“No, they were here before they took her.”
“Her?” He leans forward and clasps his hands together on the table. “You do all this for a woman?”
Wheels answers for me, “She’s one of us. We look after our own.”
“As do we. But we don’t have women in the firing line.”
“She wasn’t. She was taken from outside a friend’s house after she got back from church.”
Cristiano crosses himself and seems taken aback. “This is a sacrilege. To take a church-going woman on the holy sacrament is an offense to God himself.”
Carlos comes back into the room, followed by two women, carrying coffee and cups. They serve Cristiano and Carlos first, then one of them pours me a coffee. Sean and Wheels decline.
“Do you have cream?” asks Angus. One of the women shakes her head. “Just a dash of milk, then, please.”
We all wait as she pours him a coffee, adds milk, and smiles at him. Angus smiles back and reaches out for the drink. “Thanks so much.” He takes a sip and closes his eyes. “This is really good. Tell me, Cristiano, what type of beans do you use?”
I make a noise in the back of my throat. All this posturing and flattering isn’t getting me any answers.
Cristiano smiles at Angus, then pins me with a hard stare. “I can tell you’re eager to get on with business. They were here on Sunday?”
“Yes,” I reply flatly.
Cristiano addresses Carlos. “Who was here on Sunday?”
“Enrico.”
“Is he here now?” Carlos shakes his head. “Call him.”
“Cristiano, I told you what this meet was about. All we want is answers. Do you have any for us?” asks Wheels.
Cristiano smiles and takes a sip of his coffee. “There were two men and a woman. Her name, I don’t know. The men were Tommy and Garry. I believe Garry is Lola’s brother? Perhaps this was a family dispute?”
“I didn’t mention Lola, and why did they gut one of my men?” I ask quietly.
Cristiano places his cup on the table, his lips turn down, and his head goes from side to side slowly. He locks eyes with me, and those lips turn into a smile.
Cristiano holds up a finger. “Ahh, but we know much about you, Kyle.
As for your men, when you catch up with them, you can ask them.”
His whole demeanor is off as though he’s the cat that swallowed the canary. My instincts tell me he knows a hell of a lot more than he’s letting on.
“Do you know where they went and why they’d take one of ours?”
“But not one of yours, is it? Someone much closer than that.” He smiles. “As for your dead, perhaps he owed a debt?” The smile disappears as he sits straighter in the chair. “Perhaps promises were made, and they haven’t been kept.”
“How about we get down to it?” I ask.
Cristiano takes a sip of coffee. “Yvette Cartland, Garry Cartland, and Ben Cartland, who have disappeared by the way, owe me money.”
“You?”
Cristiano grins. “They owe the Rochas.”
“If this debt was to be paid, would my woman be returned to me?”
“You assume I have her?”
“It sounds that way.”
Cristiano shakes his head. “No. We hunt those who do have her.”
“Dead men don’t pay their debts.”
“True, but it sets a precedent. No one will default on us. No one would dare.”
I glance at Sean, who nods once, then looks to the exit, so I stand.
“Thank you for the sit-down.” I push the chair out.
Wheels and Sean stand too.
“Wait.” Cristiano stands and moves around the table to stand before me. “Just so I’m clear. You had nothing to do with the Cartlands defaulting on their debt? And you and your MC have nothing to do with running of the merchandise?”
He’s scrutinizing me, staring me in the eyes, searching for the truth.
“On my mother’s grave, I swear we have nothing to do with the Cartlands’ deal, and we don’t do merchandise,” I growl out the last word. Its very meaning causes me to feel disgust.
His drugs have destroyed so many lives that I won’t allow that poison to infect my MC or my family.
Cristiano nods and steps back, he waves a hand in the air, and his men leave the room. “Good luck in finding your woman. I hope she comes back to you safe and sound.”
That’s our cue to leave. I nod and head for the door. As Wheels walks past Cristiano, he reaches out and pats him on the shoulder. Wheels pauses for a second, then keeps going. Angus is the last one out the door, smiling like an idiot. I get on my bike, and we all ride back to the compound. Whatever the fuck that was, it wasn’t fucking productive. We’re no further ahead than we were.
Spark of Hope: MacKenny Brothers Series Book 3: An MC/Band of Brothers Romance Page 6