I hear footsteps... voices, him... Viper, coming. Brace yourself, Blue. Assess the situation before leaping. Placing my fingers into my bun I feel the cool, comforting steel of my blade as a sick smile forms on my lips the lock unlocks.
“Junkie, love, you’re awake. Nice to see you ready to play, baby.”
I look up at him through my drug needy eyes and to his little bitches flanking his sides. “To play with you? Always. But, baby, your pack? Mmm... not so much, they look a bit too clean cut for me.” I don’t know these two men I haven’t seen them before, they must be new.
“Oh, Junkie love don’t be so rude. These men here are providing us with the delightful accommodation you’re staying in.” His eyes look around the cesspit I’m holed up in. Rolling my eyes at his poor excuse for a body, he has lost a lot of his muscle that first drew me in and his features are no longer strong and chiseled. His face is sunken in and pale, drawn out, as he has allowed the taste for the needle really take him and his body. He really is nothing without me I kept him off the edge and now look at his limp dirty frame standing before me with the scars of my knife gracing his body! how did I ever like that?
“Baby this? I’m sure scumbags like you could have found better than this! Allowing your Chicca to slum it with the rats, you’re a winner, Viper.”
He grabs me around my throat, ripping me up off the floor, grazing my knees. “You gave up the right to be fucken mine when you slashed the fuck out of my boys and me, you dirty junkie.”
Looking him dead in the eyes, I pull my head back and headbutt him with all the force my small, weak frame can muster. I gasp as he lets my throat go. He stumbles back bringing his hands up to meet his now split forehead, blood trickles down the bridge of his nose before pooling on his top lip. He sucks it in, licking his lips; the look of the devil flames in his eyes and the hair on my back sticks up.
“Stay strong, Blue” I hear her. “Stay fierce. Remember, set their world on fire.”
Squaring my shoulders, I step as far forward as the chain allows, just as his two new boyfriends come at me. I step quickly to the side, giving boyfriend number one a forearm to the face, spinning as far as the chain allows. I southpaw boyfriend number two, he goes back shaking off my punch as number one comes back for more. I ankletap him and he falls over himself, hitting the ground hard. I kick him in the ribs with as much force as I can. Satisfaction raises over my face as the pop of a rib greets the top of my foot. Fire for a fight grazes my soul. I whip around to number two as a hand comes up to grab me by my hair, halting me as I pant with exertion.
Viper brings his mouth to the back of my ear. “Enough bitch! I see you haven’t lost your fire! Now it’s time to place that fire upon my men’s cocks. You're up next, junkie love.” He bites down hard on my earlobe as a small, muffled sound of pain and pure annoyance licks my lips. Enraged, I fling my head back hard, cracking the mother fucker’s nose.
“Breathe on me, bite me, speak to me again, and I’ll slit your fucking throat you sick fuck.”
I spit out as he lets go of me. I spin to be greeted by a sick twisted smile. His face is covered in his own blood and an evil laugh erupts from his body. Standing back on my chained foot, I whip my free one around kissing the side of his smug face he goes down like a ton of bricks. All I hear is a gasp from number one as number two comes up behind me with god knows what in his hand. Wrapping it around my mouth and nose, I hear him say.
“I didn’t wanna have to use this, but you, bitch, are batshit, fucking crazy.”
That’s all I hear as I whirl down to the depths of the unknown. Once again, I’m lost in the dark.
Knox
Coming out of the control room into the bright day's sun stings my eyes. I blink away the water forming as I stop Bray. “So what brother, what do we do?” Bray looks at me, pain flashes in his eyes, a sense of loss and hurt mixed with anxiousness. They mirror my own. “Brother, you know you can talk to me eh?” Pulling him back towards the direction to the sheds I steer us to the chiller before grabbing two beers. We head to the tables under the sun sails. “Let’s have a yarn, we have nothing but time, right?” I sit, looking up at him.
“Brother, talking isn’t going to do jack for me”
I crack the cap off a cold beer sliding it over to my brother taking a long pull on the neck of it, closing my eyes as the cool liquid slides down my throat leaving a crisp malt taste. Opening my eyes looking at Bray I say. “Try me, brother.” The look on his face says it all. He doesn’t want to be pushed, let alone talk about whatever is going on.
“Look, it's hard and complicated. It brought some pretty heavy heat down on us and still can. Blood was shed, people died, and I lost the one thing in this world that I loved more than this fucking club and brotherhood. It broke me... not only me.... but this family and my old’s, just when they all started breathing again. They took Mom, that’s it, we all have our shit going on brother. I’m trying to find the bottom of this dark pit of my hope that there is some light on the other side, hope that I find what I’m looking for in the abyss of pain and misery but I just don’t fucking know anymore. I don’t know how someone can just fucken vanish like that into thin fucken air.” Pulling long and hard on his beer he places his face into his shaking hands.
“Who? Brother what’s going on? I’m fucking lost.”
He brings his face up to meet mine and, after sculling back the rest of his beer, he pushes himself up from the picnic table. “Look brother, forget I said anything. Let’s just deal with this shit!” The look in his eyes tells me not to push. I’ll be here when that time comes. No words are passed between us we sit in the afternoons sun starched out on the picnic tables, drinking our beers, both lost inside our own minds waiting for Ortiz to reassemble the phone and bring it out to us.
We don’t have to wait long, just as I’m emptying the last mouthful of beer into my mouth he steps out the side door of his little room, flicking his shades from off the top of his head down over his eyes to shield them from the bright intrusion of light. Walking up to me he passes me the phone looking at me and then Bray and back to me. “The only thing they had on here was a tracking device so they can map your movements, so I placed a dummy one in that gives them all your movements from the compound to your house and the gym and back again it’s on a loop and they will never be able to tell it’s been tampered with.” Nodding at him I stand and slap my hands over his shoulder thanking him. I step out from under the sun shade with Bray behind me. It’s time to fuck shit up.
As we walk up to the shed I can hear muffled sounds. Panicked voices and evil chuckles. Pushing through the doors I see the prospects having a ball tormenting the two fucken dirtbags. Ghost is in the far corner leaning over a table head down hoodie over his face earplugs in. He’s in his zone setting up the tools of torture. It seems he is the in-house executioner, a lunatic unhinged from what I have been told. He sure fits it, all muscle and tattoos, dark demon eyes and a sense of evil emits from his presence. It makes me feel at home, he’s my kind of dark. You’d have to be numb to this world after what he has to do, it’s the only way you can make it. A certain special type of crazy, raving psychotic demon. I feel this brother and I could use each other in more ways than one. He turns and I get to look at him. He’s wearing a skull mask over his nose and mouth. All you see are his dark eyes. I know them eyes, I’ve seen them somewhere before. I can’t pick where though.
“Brother,” he says, walking over to Bray and I, pulling his earbuds out, “...ready to let the fun begin?”
“Take it away, brother, the floor is yours.” Bray gestures to him with his hands, before turning and pulling up a chair. “Sit, brother, but if you can’t deal and wanna bail, we’re ok with that.” With a wink at me, he leans back stretching out his legs.
“You think a little blood and piss will scare me? Brother; you must have me confused with someone else.”
Laughing he gives me another wink. “All right then.”
Nodding over at
Ghost, Ghost picks up the first of his weapons; a scalpel. He walks over to the two spies who are tied from the rafters by their hands, dangling on the dirt floor with just their tiptoes touching. The blood from before has dried and is now mixed with new, fresh blood dripping down their torsos. The boys have removed their shirts, cuts, jeans and socks. They are just hanging there in their boxers and shit, they are just boys. I smirk. One has Scooby Doo boxers and the other, SpongeBob! Jesus Christ, you’re in an MC Club, pussies. I think to myself. Grabbing a beer from 81, I take a long pull as I lean back in the chair, crossing my legs over my ankles, I sit back and relax, waiting to see if these muppets have the info needed to find my girl. I’ll fucking make her my old lady after this shit storm is over. Shit did I just think that? I didn’t even flinch at the pain or the enormity of them words. Instead I sit here thinking how much I like the thought of making her mine and knowing that I will have her forever to ride with me in this thing called life. My sassy Celtic goddess, the thought has my cock twitching in my jeans and a grin kicking up the corner of my mouth.
The first scream from the big bad bikers brings me back to the now; the second scream sends the quiver of adrenaline through my soul and a sick grin on my face.
Ghost is in his element as he moves with pure precision, scalpel in one hand blowtorch in the other, asking the questions needed to gain the info we want. These boys aren’t too ready to give it up freely, so their torment carries on.
“Boys, boys, boys.” Ghost speaks. “Just tell us who you work for, and we shall return you to them a little fucked up but whole. Keep fucking me off and cutting into my time and I’ll send you back in tiny, burnt fucken pieces. Where is my brother’s girl and the great Viper? We know that you work for him or his fuckboys, why else would you be sticking your mugs up to the window of a man’s church like it’s the fucking fourth of July, and you're allowed in to celebrate.”
“Ain’t telling you shit, mother fucker, you don’t scare me pussy.” SpongeBob spits at Ghost’s face. Wiping the spit away with his fingers, the look of death passes through his eyes. They turn a whole new shade of black.
“Well, ain’t we tough, know what happens to boys who think they are men? They lose a piece of their body... what do you want it to be? Bray, help me out. An ear? A finger? Maybe A toe? How about a piece of his smart mother fucken tongue or wait, even better take his dick that will teach him for being a weasel and spying. Try and be a biker now bitch with no dick!”
“Hmmm well, we need his words, smart or not. He’ll talk when you bring out the blowtorch they always do. Take a pinky finger first brother just to test the waters.” Bray says to Ghost his own eyes never leaving the punk’s glare.
“You got it, Brother,” Ghost answers whirling his scalpel round through his fingers as he brings up the blowtorch to light his smoke; he brings it back down reading the blade. “Have to sterilize.” Winking at the two boys dangling in front of him, he walks forward, blowing out a stream of smoke rings. Picking up Spongebob’s finger, he brings his scalpel up and, with one nice swoop of the blade, pulls it through the finger dragging it around the bone. The screams and gasps start the heat prickles on my skin. The taste of blood is thick in the air. Licking my lips I calm the demon wanting to feast on this, and drink my beer.
“So, you see. I’m a man of my word, piss bag, now if you and your fuck boy here don’t want to lose any more body parts, I’d speak up. Give my man the answers he needs.” Ghost pipes out as he wipes his blade on the guy's torso.
The smaller, younger of the two opens his mouth to talk, stuttering out, “I, I, I, I’ll tell you. I don’t wanna die.”
The other muppet kicks out his legs to his comrade. “Shut the fuck up, bro, don’t tell them shit!” He eyeballs his brother. Ghost is getting agitated and starts to pace, breathing in deep the tip of his cigarette glows red. He stalks over to his table of tricks.
“My fucken patience is wearing really fucking thin with you two,” Ghost says looking over his shoulder as he picks up his sledgehammer off the table, swinging it around in a circle. An evil grin kisses his lips as he swings it hard into Spongebob’s kneecaps shattering one as he goes. The fragments of the kneecap move out under his skin. Spinning around Ghost slams the handle into the guy’s ribs, and he is left grasping for air as at least two ribs pop. Blood falls from his mouth as he looks up with pain laced eyes Ghost brings back the handle, slamming in right between his eyes. “Goodnight, fucker, I didn’t care too much for your soul anyway! Now you.” He points the sledgehammer at the one who was more than willing to speak before. “Tell me what I want to know and now before you end up like him. I warn you, though punk, you lie, you bleed more than this punk ass bitch right here,” Ghost spits out whirling the hammer into his mate’s body once more.
“I’m Pic, we are from Rouge MC, and go under the lone wolves’ MC Chapter. We have a club on the outskirts of town and we also run an underground sex club.” He splutters it out so fast my mind is struggling to comprehend what he just said.
Bray goes dead still in his seat. His breathing quickens as his knuckles go white around the beer bottle; tighter, whiter until the sound of it shattering in his hands has everyone’s attention placed on him and the anger burning off his body.
“Oi Bray, look at me.” Ghost says as he walks over, grabbing Bray’s head in his hands.
“Leave. I got this. I’ll sort it.” Bray pushes Ghost off, gets up and marches over to the boy. “What did you just say,” he seethes out, grabbing the kid's jaw and cheeks so tight his lips form an ‘O.’ “You’re a lone, fucking, wolf on my club’s soil?”
The boy hangs helplessly, looking around in disbelief and pure shock, he answers with a simple nod of his head, “We got told to come in under one of your sister chapters who is getting paid off by them. They want us to gain intel on you and your boys about what’s coming and what’s next.” He whispers.
Walking around to the back of him, Bray grabs him around his neck and pulls him in nice and tight, dragging his mouth to the kid's ear. “Is that so, is it? Well ain’t that funny, so where are they, hmm? where is Blue?” Bray looks over at us, a sick laugh mixed with a twisted grin forms on his lips, the look in his eyes screams violence. “A lot of the wolves are at their club here in New York, their new Pres, goes between both places and Viper, and all his men are at the club on the outskirts of town, ‘Satan’s Dancers Gentlemen’s Club’ running under Rouge MC.”
“They are the Rouge Club working with the nomads from the Lone Wolfs, Bray, that got taken out of Montana after it came about they were running drugs and sex slaves.” 81 pipes up, looking up from his phone. “See?” He flips his phone around; Bray walks over shaking his head as he spins back, looking around, his eyes fall to the table of gleaming weapons Ghost has laid out for torture. Bray steps over to the boy hanging, blood dripping from his body forms a scarlet red pool on the dirt floor. Bray’s voice is low and has a chill in it that sends goosebumps out over my body and has me shifting in my chair as the weight of his words haunt the room.
“Just hearing the name Lone Wolf here on my land has my rage popping from me after what they have done to my family. That alone has me wanting their blood and every last fucking drop of it and now knowing that they have joined with another MC filled of dirty scumbags and have our Blue sends a new-found anger coercing through me, like the fire in hell hot and heavy. Well little biker boy you have set my soul on fire and yours I’m sending to the depths of hell and marking you with my Reaper to show your little fuck bag buddies and wanna be tough bikers that Bray Thornton means business.” He stops. I let out the breath I was holding what the fuck I think. That was some heavy shit right there. I Jump slightly as he snaps out again short and weighted with anger.
“Looking back at Ghost, he barks out his tone full of venom. “Blowtorch and blade, NOW!”
Ghost hands over his tools of trade, a gleam in his eyes as he rubs his now empty hands together, he walks over holding the boy’s body still, “D
o your artwork boss!” he says not missing the wicked evil in his tone.
“Oh, I plan on it,” Bray said with a wink to his VP.
81 walks over to the bench turning on Marilyn Manson’s Sweet Dreams over the overhead sounds via the Sound Dock.
Sitting closer on my chair putting my head in my hands I watch the horror unfold as my brother cuts and burns a Reaper into the back of the snitches. A glint of enjoyment and pleasure passes over his face. The screams from this kid's bloody body ring out with the music, it doesn’t take too much before he has passed out. Breathing deep I’m all for crazy shit, shit I’ve given out my fair share of touture to a soul here and there but this shit is next leavel crazy and it leaves me wanting more, a lot more. As the smell of blood hits my nostils and the salty taste of sweat floating around in the air mixes with it, I clench my teeth hard to gain control of my own demon, who is wanting to come out to feast on the blood bath before me. I crack my nek and knckles relishing in the small pain the release offeres.
Walking over I help 81 hold up his limp body as Ghost passes him over, he walks over to the other guy signaling Cage and West over to hold the other guy as Ghost removes his own shirt and goes to work on Spongebob’s back doing the same thing as his Brother. The true size of Ghost really shows when he’s just standing there in his jeans, He has a body covered in angry scars and a massive dragon tattoo that takes over his body, and I’m sure the demons it holds.
Fractured Promises (Reapers Reign, #2) Page 20