Brake, overhearing, picks up another knife. It’s long, and thin. “Haven’t tried that. Sounds interesting.”
“Yeah,” I say, getting into it. “They took their time. He had no skin left from neck to ass.”
“What do you want to know? I’ll tell you,” screams the tied-up man.
Stinger turns away from the man and winks at me, then steps up. “Name,” he snaps.
“Fucker.”
I can only see the side of his face, but all Stinger has to do is raise his eyebrow. Brake growls and steps forward menacingly.
“It is. That’s my name. They call me Fucker.” The Joker screams.
“I can work with that. Fucker.” Stinger grins. His puffed-out chest shows the president patch he’s wearing. Dirty and worn, showing he’s worn it a long time. “You know you don’t exist, right? Yet there you were in the bar the Warped Jokers used to frequent. You got the message you’ve lost your charter?”
A tied-up man finds it difficult to shrug. Fucker tries his best. “Arch said it made no difference. Just that we shouldn’t wear our cuts.”
“You were wearing a cut,” Stinger observes, taking out a packet of cigarettes. Lighting one, he blows smoke in Fucker’s face. If you don’t smoke that shit is nasty. Fucker though, he breathes in and half closes his eyes. Good way of getting him to betray, he’ll be desperate for a dose of nicotine himself soon.
“I like wearing it.”
“I’m sure you do.” Stinger indicates to Brake, who begins cutting Fucker’s leather vest in half. “But you won’t need it anymore.”
Get to it, man. I’m itching to step up and take over. Stinger catches my eye. I feel a hand on my shoulder.
“Easy, Brother,” Drummer’s voice sounds in my ear. “He’s just putting the fear of God into him. Start easy and work up to the hard. Go in too fast, and he’ll clam up.”
“Jokers are a fuckin’ joke in this town now, got it, Fucker. And seeing we’ve got chapters in most of the states, and beyond, doubt you’ll find a new home. You’re done for.”
“Mad Bull said he’d sort it when he gets out.”
“He ain’t getting out. We’ve disavowed him, and your brothers in the joint. You know what that means?”
As Fucker’s eyes widen, it seems that he does. Without protection, his prez’s lifespan doesn’t look like it will last much longer.
“As for you, you’re on your own. You got one chance to get away from this alive.”
Now he’s going to ask about Stevie. Only, he doesn’t.
“I want to know your safe houses. Where you stash your girls before moving them. Every fucking one of them, you get me?”
“You’re taking over our businesses?”
“You won’t be working the trade anymore.” Stinger neither confirms nor denies it. I don’t want to know the answer, right now I’m only interested in one woman.
“They’ll kill me if I tell you.”
Another rise of Stinger’s brow. He doesn’t need to tell him he’s got a more immediate threat from him.
Brake steps forward ominously. He’s got a rubber mallet in his hand which he’s bouncing against his fist. “I love the way they squeal when this hits the sac,” he offers in a conversational tone. “I must be warped, but I get a thrill from seeing those balls swell up and turn purple.”
“Go the size of water melons,” Chaz puts in. “Seen that myself.”
“Oh fuck, no. No. Not that. No.”
My balls seem to shrivel in sympathy. Worse pain a man can go through. If Fucker’s cock could shrink anymore, I think it probably would. It’s trying to make itself even less of a target.
“Start talking,” Stinger snaps.
“I, I… can’t.”
I suppose you have to admire his loyalty. Brake steps forward and starts an upward swing aimed straight through the V formed by his legs, then brings the mallet back down. “Just getting the right angle,” he explains. “Need to get it just right. Course, I may pop one of the fuckers if I’m not careful. Hey, one of Fucker’s fuckers. It’s almost worth it to be able to say that.”
Fucker’s eyes are wild. He’s looking around each of us, wanting to see sympathy. Well, that he might find, the kindred of men who know just what terrible pain to expect, but he doesn’t find any for him.
Brake looks like he means business this time. He grabs the mallet with both hands taking a firm hold.
“I’ll tell you. I’ll tell you.”
Stinger stays Brake’s movement. “Everything?”
With tears rolling down his face, Fucker nods.
If he doesn’t spill everything fast enough, I’ll be taking that mallet off Brake.
Suddenly Stinger does what I wanted to do. He lurches forward and tugs the mallet out of Brake’s hands and starts a swing which is certain to end in agony.
“I’ll tell you everything!” Fucker screams before it hits him.
Stinger eases the arc but still makes contact. I wince as Fucker unsuccessfully tries to curl up. Screams of pain fly out of his mouth and tears start rolling down his face. I see his stomach muscles clench, and his balls seem larger than they were a moment before.
Without giving him time to recover, Stinger threatens him with the mallet again. “Next time I’ll do it properly. Now what about the blind bitch, where’s she being held?”
His eyes meet all of ours, then his chin drops against a chest which is still heaving. “A house on fourth,” Fucker rasps out, each word punctuated by an intake of breath. It might only have been a tap compared to what Stinger could have done, but he’s finding it hard getting air. “That’s where they were planning to take her.”
I note he didn’t even try to deny he knew who we were talking about, and that they had her.
Stinger considers for a moment, like me, probably weighing up whether he’s told us the truth, and coming down on the side that in all likelihood he has. “Get him down and dressed. Fucker can take us there.”
Losing interest in the tortured man, the Wretched Soulz prez comes back to me and the rest of the interested group watching his technique.
“Quickest way to get the info.” He nods at me. “Show him what’s he in for, then fire the question you want answered. Now, do you want to go find your woman, Beef?”
He doesn’t wait for my answer. It’s obvious. I might not have been able to lay hands on Fucker, but I will on any man who’s dared touch a hair on my woman’s head.
I’ve no sympathy for the man who’s struggling to get dressed, gingerly tucking his family jewels into a baggy pair of sweats that’s been found to replace his jeans and struggling into a plain borrowed tee. Brake shows no compassion as he hurries him up, then, after zip-tying his hands behind him, none too gently pushes him out of the shed and into the sun.
The rest of us follow. The sun is hot, but less stifling than the shed we’ve just been in, and I eagerly breathe in the fresh air. My whole focus is on getting to Stevie, and luckily no one seems to want to waste time.
Could I have gotten the information quicker and saved precious moments? Unlikely. In the state I’m in I’d have had more of a bull in a china shop approach. Wraith was right. A man can’t talk around a broken jaw and can be hard to understand when he’s missing his teeth. I’ve learned a thing today about mental torture being a useful tool. Maybe I’ll suggest it to Mace when I get back to base.
Why Mace? Why wasn’t my first thought Blade? I’ve known him far longer.
“You okay, Brother?”
I give Thunder a look that pointedly asks, what do you think? I’ll only be alright once Stevie’s back in my arms and I know she’s unharmed.
As we walk, he places his hand on my back which feels naked without my cut. A silent gesture of support. No need for more words.
Drummer and Wraith are walking ahead with the Wretched Soulz prezes and VPs. All following a man who looks like he knows death isn’t far away, being dragged along by the enforcer. Fucker will co-operate to try to prevent i
t, but I’m doubtful his life will be measured by anything more than hours.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
The house Fucker takes us to looks run down and uncared for, but basically sound. The neighbourhood around matches. As we drive by slowly, I take in a man bent over a beat-up car, attracted by the engine noise. He stands and yawns widely, the state of his teeth showing me he’s clearly a meth addict.
The SUV Stinger and Brake are in along with Fucker draws to a halt around the corner. We park behind.
“Fucker says there’s a rear entrance. That’s how they get the girls in and out. I’ve sent Shift around the back to see what the set ups like.” He nods to one of his members who’s disappearing amongst bushes, already crouched down. At my look of concern, he reassures me. “Shift knows what he’s doing. They won’t spot him.”
“We need to attack from both sides,” Chaz suggests. The two Wretched Soulz prezes didn’t need to come along, but both, together with their VPs, had decided they weren’t missing out on any of the action today.
“How do you want us to split up?” Drummer defers to the LA Soulz prez.
“You, Wraith, Beef, Thunder, Chaz and Bull take the back. The rest of us will come in from the front. Use what force you have to. You take your woman, Beef. I’ll deal with any other girls.”
“Deal?” Devil’s frowning.
Stinger gives him a measured look. “I can find work for them if that’s what they want. Don’t like unwilling women, so we’ll leave them alone.”
“I’ll arrange to get them home,” Devil challenges.
A moment of consideration, then, “Yeah. Okay.”
I’m not sure that’s what he’d have normally done if a consultant with connections to the feds wasn’t here, but it eases my conscience that I’m only intent on saving one woman.
“You’re with me,” Drummer tells Devil.
For an answer, Devil slides out a gun and checks it. He meets my appraisal with a lop-sided grin. “When in America…”
My weapon’s already primed and ready, and I’m pleased to see everyone is in a serious mood making their own preparations. Chaz, who’ll be leading our team, bends his head close to Stinger’s as they make the final arrangements. I’m bouncing on my feet in a hurry to get moving, but if this isn’t done right, people inside might die, including Stevie.
Stinger calls Drummer, RIP and myself to join him.
“Problem we’ve got is that Fucker can’t tell us how many Jokers are inside. They come and go, particularly to sample new merchandise.”
“Fuckin’—”
“Can it, Beef,” Drummer stops me. “Deal with what you find, not what’s in your fuckin’ imagination. Got it?”
I’ve got it. But it’s hard to stop myself thinking the worst.
Stinger’s looking impatient. I nod, showing I’ve got myself under control. Outwardly, at least.
“Warped Jokers are likely to kill the woman, so she can’t testify. Fucker’s coming to the door with us, he’ll get them to open up. Once he’s inside, we’ll be right behind him. I’ll give you the signal, Chaz, and you can bust in the back door. I’m hoping we can do this quietly.” He pauses. When Brake holds up his knife, he nods. “Our priority is to get to the women before bullets start flying.”
“Where are the women being held?” Wraith asks, his eyes going to the man who’s agreed to betray his brothers.
“In the back, according to Fucker.”
At that moment, Shift returns. “Windows are blacked out, can’t see anything. But the frames look fairly weak, and I’ve just picked the lock on the back door. Couldn’t hear anything going on inside.”
Stinger nods. “Okay. While we get their attention out front, your team, Chaz, enters at the rear. Find the women and protect them. Beef, you can help here. If your woman’s there, she’ll know you, and can help keep the others calm. Otherwise…” Otherwise they’ll just think there’re new men come to rape them. “Keep them covered and their heads down.”
Sounds simple as a plan, though I know there’s a thousand things that can go wrong. One thing in our favour is that we’ve got the manpower. Doesn’t mean much if bullets start flying. But once I find Stevie I’ll use my body as a human shield. Don’t mind taking a bullet for her, there must be something I was brought back from the dead for, and maybe this is it.
A few last final words, then it’s time. Shift accompanies us as he’s already found out the best way to get to the rear without being seen.
The bushes that serve to hide the residence from prying eyes also afford us cover. Keeping low and quiet, we make our way around the one-story building. Shift points to the door he’s already opened. Chaz holds up his hand. When his phone vibrates, he points to the door.
Chaz takes the lead, I slip in right behind him. The kitchen is empty. I’m just breathing out a sigh of relief when a toilet flushes in a half-bath off to one side. Chaz takes the left, I take the right. The door opens, a blade flashes, and as if we had choreographed it, I have the dead body in my arms and lowered to the floor without any sound.
Drummer and Devil have come in behind us. Chaz points to two doors, one either side of a small hallway. Drummer opens one, Chaz the other. One is empty, soiled bedding strewn all over. Have they been warned and moved the girls? Fuck, no. Impossible. How could they have known?
The other Chaz pushes against but it doesn’t budge. Looking there’s a bolt, top and bottom. As we slide them back carefully, there’s a shot from the front, followed by another.
“We’ve got your back,” Thunder says quickly. “Get in there, Beef.”
Chaz holds the door open for me. Still with my gun in my hand, I step inside.
It’s dark, dingy, the windows have been painted black. There’s a light switch I flick but it doesn’t work. Thunder passes me a flashlight and I switch it on to reveal a world of horror. About a dozen women are cowering together, half dressed, clearly beaten and cowed.
“Stevie!” I call out, but there’s no answer.
Fuck no. Wrong place.
I turn in horror as Devil steps inside, pushing past me and rasping out, “Go find her, Beef. I’ll take care of these.”
More bullets are flying. Screams of pain as they meet their targets.
“Stevie!” I shout louder now.
“Beef!” Comes an answer. It’s her voice. She sounds terrified. But fuck, where is she?
Chaz kicks a door open behind which is chaos and action. Men are hiding behind overturned furniture firing toward the door. Our entrance has startled them, and I get off shots before they realise they’re fighting on two fronts now.
Stevie. Stevie. Where the fuck are you?
“Stop firing or she dies.”
I turn, slowly. My eyes widening in horror as I see one of the Jokers has Stevie held in front of him, a gun pressed hard against her forehead.
Quickly I analyse the scene. There are four other Jokers. Two dead or incapacitated, two alive. One of whom I recognise. My eyes narrow. It’s Cray. Fucking knew we shouldn’t have let him go free.
“Stay where you are,” Stinger snaps as they try to move closer to the man holding Stevie.
Guns are pointed at Stevie and us. Guns are pointed at them. We outnumber them, but as far as I’m concerned, the only important person is the woman I love.
I might be standing in the room with four presidents, but that’s my girl there. Without consultation I take a step forward, my action causing the gun to be pressed harder into her forehead.
“You’re not going to get out of this,” I tell the man who’s obviously the leader of this group of men. “Give yourself a chance. All we want is the woman.”
“Allow her to testify? We’ll all end up in the pen. Nah. My prez gave me orders. See that she never gets to court.”
“You haven’t got a prez any longer. You haven’t got an MC. It’s over for the Warped Jokers and for you if you shoot her. Yeah, you might take a couple of us down with you, but you’re outnumbered and outg
unned. You kill her? We kill you.”
“Shorty…” His comrade I don’t know is looking around nervously. Cray’s eyes are wild, and I’m worried about the way he’s holding his gun. He’s recognised me and Thunder.
“Shut it. You know what Mad Bull wants,” Shorty replies.
“You let her go, we let you walk out of here.” I’m making a promise I’m certain Stinger won’t keep, but I’ll try any ploy to get Stevie back into my arms, alive and unhurt.
Stinger’s leaning lazily against the wall. He doesn’t seem bothered about what’s going on. Casually he takes out a cigarette and lights it. After he’s drawn smoke into his lungs and let it out to pollute the air, he says, lazily, “Shorty, is it? Well, you know who I am?”
A nod confirms he’s been recognised.
“We’re stepping into your trade. All we want is the girls, and that includes her.”
“Satan’s Devils want to protect her. Want to get her to court.”
For once, I’m grateful I’m not wearing my cut when Stinger responds, “You see any Devils here? All the cuts I see are Soulz.”
Shorty looks left and right, and finally at me. I stare back stoically.
Cray opens his mouth. Then, for some reason he doesn’t say anything. Has he calculated he’s got better odds to get out of here if he stays quiet? Thinks he’s doing us a favour?
“So who are you then?” he finally asks.
“Who they are doesn’t matter. Who the Soulz consort with is no concern of yours. What matters is we’ve both got something we want. I want the women, all of them. You want your lives. Seems like a good bargain to me.”
“Take it, Shorty,” the man who’d spoken before insists, shifting nervously from foot to foot. “I don’t want to die.”
Shorty looks shifty. “How about I kill this one, you can have the others?”
“A blind bitch? I can think of a special market for her. Nah. I want her.”
Stinger sounds so convincing, he’s almost got me believing he’d betray us. He wouldn’t take Stevie, would he? Nah, course he wouldn’t, he’s bluffing.
But Stevie doesn’t know that. The whimper from her lips makes me wish she could see me, when she gasps out, “Beef…”
Satan's Devils MC Colorado Boxset 1 Books 1 - 3 Page 103