Demented Sons Series Volume One: Books 1-4 (Demented Sons MC Iowa)

by Kristine Allen

  Please no…

  “This would be all you’re good for, but I don’t like dry, cold bitches.” His fingers pulled out and shoved painfully into me once more before he finally decided he was done with me.

  There I lay on the floor, gasping to regain my breath after he removed his knee from my chest. My ribs hurt with each expansion. A big fist gripped my hair again, and a whimper slipped from my cracked and bleeding lips. Effortlessly, he lifted me off the floor by my hair until I was close to his emotionless face.

  “Don’t worry, that’s not a problem we can’t fix. They can try to identify your body when we’re done with you. It makes no difference to me. I’ll be back, and you better hope I’ve heard from them, or you get to suffer for their stupidity. As it is, your boyfriend will see what his little stripper girlfriend looks like now.” When he released my hair, I fell over and he kicked me in the thigh. Vaguely, I heard a clicking sound and looked up with my one barely open eye to see he had a phone out and he was taking pictures of me.

  Stripper? What the hell? Does he really think I am one of the strippers from that place? Jesus. And my boyfriend? Shit, they’re sending these to Mason. Oh, God. If they have his number, then I guess that answers what happened to my cell phone.

  Little does this asshole know, Mason probably wouldn’t even give a shit about what happened to me since it seemed everything we had was a sham. I prayed he at least looked for me for Steph’s sake, since she was his brother’s wife and my best friend, but I wasn’t holding my breath. Trembling, I watched as he walked out of the room with my pants and boots, leaving me lying on the cold concrete in my panties, bra, and torn shirt.

  Time ceased to exist as minute ran into minute while I lay in a crumpled heap, tears running to the concrete floor. But I was starving, and through blurred vision, I saw the sandwich Rat threw at me. Even though it pissed me off to accept anything from these assholes, I knew I need to eat something if I wanted to maintain my strength in case the opportunity arose to escape. Also, my baby needed whatever I could get.

  The thought of the innocent life in me not getting a chance to grow and see the world broke my heart. Why had I been so stupid? Despite knowing better, I completely disregarded my surroundings when I left the strip joint. That was one thing my dad had always drilled into me.

  Oh God, my parents.

  If I died, they were going to be devastated. Self-pity overwhelmed me as I continued to cry over my situation, until I finally felt like I was just completely out of tears.

  The water felt good on my dry, parched throat, but the process of drinking and eating the nasty gas station sandwich broke my lip open again and I tasted blood. Every part of my body ached and burned. When my nausea built, I leaned against the wall and closed my eyes, taking deep breaths. Slowly, it began to ebb. The urge to cry pressed at my eyes and throat like hot pokers, but I told myself it wouldn’t help me. It was time to get my shit in one basket and do what I could to get out of here.

  When I tried to stand, my leg almost gave out on me. Rubbing on the area, I felt the hard, swollen knot in my thigh. Shit, there was swelling and a large purple bruise forming already. My head was still pounding, I hurt like hell all over, and I could barely see out of one eye. Reaching toward the window, I found it nailed shut. Of course. Briefly, I considered using my shirt around my hand and trying to break the glass, but I knew I wouldn’t fit through the window, and even if I could, I wouldn’t be able to pull myself up to it to save my soul.

  Slumping to the floor in defeat, I curled in a tight ball and silently prayed for someone to find me before it was too late. The silence was deafening, and defeat crept over me like a wraith.

  THE TEXT WITH THE address of the meeting place and time came through at about eleven the next morning. Bodily and mentally exhausted, I had barely slept all night worrying about Becca and if she was still okay. My girl was feisty and strong, but I honestly didn’t know how much she could take in a situation like that.

  My fist raised to knock on Snow’s door, and he answered after a grumbled, “yeah, hold on.” When he threw the door open, I saw Cammie sprawled in the bed behind him. Despite averting my eyes as quickly as they registered his glare, I still backed up and looked down the hall. Clearing my throat, I gave him the info from the text message.

  “Call everyone in for church. I’ll be there in five.” He closed the door.

  I did what he asked, my body moving on autopilot. We were all hastily taking our seats when Snow entered the room and sat at the head of the table. He ran his hand through his dark brown hair, causing it to stand up. Not sure I’d ever seen him look so weary, and lines of stress creased his forehead. During times like this, we all knew he carried a heavy burden and none of us envied the responsibility he shouldered.

  “These assholes have been a thorn in our sides for too long now. We have a meeting place and time for early tomorrow morning, but I don’t trust them. They say they want to make a deal to split the small gun transport we operate, and they’re demanding a share in the area for drugs, which will happen over my dead body. You all know I don’t give a shit about the weed, but I’ll be damned if I let them bring meth into our area. Fuck that shit. And we’re not stupid enough to believe this isn’t a setup. Reaper, I want you and Hollywood to work with Hacker to see if there’s any video surveillance we can tap into in the area. We also need a good location to set you two up in a position to cover us and take out as many as you can. They fucked up when they started to mess with us, but they signed their death warrants when they took Hollywood’s old lady and threatened our families.”

  We continued to work out all the details, and then Snow adjourned the meeting. Reaper and I headed toward bed to try to catch a little sleep before we had to leave to set up. We were all passing through the doors, grabbing our phones from the basket we placed them in prior to going into church. Looking at the screen, I saw five missed messages. Opening them, it first read:

  Unknown: in case you needed incentive to get them to listen to you

  The pictures began loading and I doubled over from the torment that hit me like a punch to the gut. Grasping desperately at the wall, a roaring sound filled my ears. Reaper yelled my name as my knees hit the floor and my phone dropped from my lifeless fingers. The visions of those photos were forever etched in my brain, and I felt physically ill at the thought of what all she must have endured.

  “Jesus.” Reaper looked at my phone and handed it off to Snow as he covered his mouth with his free hand. Steph ran up to Reaper, and I could barely make out her frantic whispering to him. Being Becca’s best friend, I knew this was killing her too. Not to mention, it probably brought back bad memories for her. Snow was talking to me, but I barely heard a word he said. My jaw and fists were clenching, and my chest heaved with ferocious breaths.

  I am going to kill them all. Every fucking one of them.

  Of course, there were no camera systems in the shitty area they wanted us to meet, so we were going in blind. It was a vacant, condemned, old slaughterhouse on the edge of town. Much like our sniper missions, we had arrived hours ago to ensure we were set up and ready before they got there. We stealthily moved in under the cover of darkness, dressed all in black with nothing but our eyes exposed, and even those were blacked as best we could. Since she had been taken, I had only slept in short spurts, but my adrenaline was pumping, keeping me alert. It felt like Reaper and I were back in time on another mission.

  We had brought the portable video equipment and had explicit instructions from Hacker on what he wanted to be able to see to help determine placement of the cameras. We waited patiently on the roof of a grain elevator located on the property next to the packing plant, after setting up the surveillance. We had already run a recon of the building and surrounding area upon our arrival. Everything was clear.

  Fuck, they were idiots. From our rooftop location, we had an unobstructed view of the inside of the old factory, thanks to the majority of the windows being shattered.
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  It was nearly three in the morning and the meeting was set for five. It would still be fairly dark by then, and I knew they were planning on having the advantage.

  Stupid fucks.

  Unlike our missions in the Army, I was not just operating as a spotter. This time, I was prepared with my own sniper rifle. Yeah, I may not be as good a shot as Reaper, but I was still better than most. Growing up hunting with my dad came in handy at times like this.

  We still didn’t know where they were keeping Becca, so our instructions were to allow one or two to escape so we could tail them back to wherever they were hiding out. Silently, I prayed they would lead us to her and we would be able to rescue her in time. Fuck, I prayed she was still alive… Unbidden, thoughts of what Steph had endured at the hands of that psycho raced through my mind, and I prayed some more.

  Personally, I would’ve rather just spare one of them and slowly torture the location out of him, but that was my anger feeding itself and another reason I was glad I wasn’t the prez. Times like this, I was grateful for Snow’s level head, but it didn’t stop me from wanting to make them all suffer.

  Before we headed over, Reaper talked to me and did his best to get me focused on the mission. He seemed nearly as angry as I was, and I knew Steph had begged for us to bring her friend home safe. She was distraught, and every time she looked at me, she hugged me and cried. If my brain had been functioning better at that time, I might have questioned the crazy, frantic despair in her eyes.

  The air was cool, but I felt like I was sweating bullets. My eyes closed and my breaths slowed as I worked to focus my mind and body.

  Breathe.

  In.

  Out.

  Focus.

  Everything dissipated except for our immediate situation. It had been a while, but I channeled the soldier I once was. The rooftop we rested on was pebbled, and it seemed as if we’d been laid out on the uneven surface forever, though the discomfort barely registered as we maintained focus, diligently watching for our targets.

  These pieces of shit were stupid for not keeping someone at this location all night. Showed they were straight fucking amateurs. Vicious ones, but amateurs just the same.

  When we saw movement, we looked through our night vision lenses to see a single person checking out the area. The bright green glow in his hand told us he was using a phone, probably to let his dipshit brothers know the coast was clear. Little did he know…

  Two others joined him. We continued to watch them as they set up in what they obviously believed were hidden locations. These dumbasses had clearly never trained or lived like Reaper and I had. They were absolute incompetents, and I almost felt sorry for them. Almost.

  We held steady and waited. The waiting was always the worst, but we had learned patience for this exact type of situation over the years together. It did, however, take everything I had to keep the personal nature of the situation to the back of my mind. I knew I needed to stay impartial to maintain my focus.

  ETA of our brothers was still about forty-five minutes out, so it didn’t surprise us when we saw more of their guys rolling in and parking their bikes back behind the vacant building.

  We counted seven guys in total. Three that had set up in advance, and the four that had just showed up. They entered the factory through a side door to wait for our guys. We radioed in to Hacker to give him verbal updates to coincide with the video feed. We were also connected to Snow and the guys through the high-tech earpieces that were nearly invisible in the dim light. It was amazing what you could acquire with the right contacts and money.

  What we weren’t expecting was the panel van that pulled up. Pretty sure it was the same one Becca had been thrown into, and my eyes flashed over to meet Reaper’s. He nodded and returned his focus to the scene unfolding below us. We silently watched as the overhead door opened, the van drove in and they quickly closed the door. The driver got out and spoke to the four in the factory. It appeared the driver was alone. My senses were on high-alert. Something just didn’t feel right.

  Right on time, we watched our guys as they rolled up the deserted road toward us. Everyone was present except for the two prospects that had stayed behind to watch over the families back at the clubhouse. They arrived “slick back”—no cuts—in two of our blacked out SUV’s, coasting up to park up the road, and then walked in as silently as possible. Hacker was in our van with a prospect as a driver so he could operate a command center of sorts. He had the video and audio feed working as our third set of eyes. We were well aware we would need the advantage as long as possible.

  The stupid fucks should have posted someone up the road to call in and notify their guys we were arriving. Like I said… amateurs.

  Our brothers all quietly sounded off, giving us the sign they were hearing us clearly. We reported our observations to them as they worked their way through the darkest shadows toward the factory. Having most of our brothers as prior military sure helped in situations like this.

  As they neared the entrance to the building, Reaper and I zeroed in on the assholes who thought they were hiding. We knew we had mere seconds to hit the first of our targets before moving to the next—two each. The safety of our brothers depended heavily on us.

  Because we were focused on our targets, we missed the activity by the van until I heard Snow whisper, “Shit,” but I didn’t dare waver from my focus. Reaper spoke to the brothers, asking if there was a problem or change of plans. Hacker advised us to stay on course and wait for the predetermined signal from Snow to take out our targets before we moved on to the assholes left standing. Had I wavered my focus from my target, I would have picked up on the hesitation in Hacker’s voice and I would have seen one of my worst nightmares unfold.

  YOU NEVER REALLY KNEW how strong you were until you had a tiny human relying on you to protect it. Despite this, however, I couldn’t lie and say I hadn’t momentarily prayed for death because of the pain. I was pretty damn sure my ribs were cracked, if not broken. There was no way it could hurt that much to breathe and my ribs still be intact. Also, I was pretty sure my body looked like it’d been used as a punching bag.

  Oh wait, it was. For the last twenty-four or more hours, because honestly, I had lost track, the raspy voiced asshole had systematically beat the ever-loving shit out of me. The scariest part of it all was he didn’t even seem angry as he punched or slapped me.

  The cold-hearted bastard remained flat faced, yet I swore he enjoyed every minute. He would ask me what I knew about the club. How many members there were. Which of the members I “belonged to.” What Mason’s connection to the club was. Since he and I were probably over, I wasn’t lying when I told him none of them. He told me repeatedly how “they” would learn this was no longer “their” territory. I could only assume he meant Mason’s MC.

  No matter how many times I tried to tell him I wasn’t one of the MC’s strippers, he wouldn’t listen to me, and he would punish me for “speaking without permission.”

  There had never been a moment in my life where I hated someone as much as I hated that bastard. The terror of the beatings harming my baby nearly broke me, but I forced myself to hold it together. Time drifted and blended, merging in a kaleidoscope of horrific moments twisting around in my head.

  My consciousness had obviously drifted in and out, because I didn’t remember being loaded back in the shitty van, but I sure as hell felt someone dragging me out of the van by my hair. When my battered body bounced off the side door and hit the concrete, I whimpered at the jarring to my numerous injuries. After that, he continued to drag me a few steps away from the van before dropping me to the ground.

  It was so cold. Was I completely naked? It was hard to tell if you had clothing on when your very skin hurt and the pain traveled straight to the bone. Not to mention, I was nearly covered in dried blood. My breaths came in rapid gasps to prevent deep breaths, which caused excruciating pain. There was a ringing in my ears, so I could only hear a hum of voices. I was sure they brought
me here to finish me off, but I remembered what the greasy one named Rat said about it being an ambush.

  Through blurred vision, I swore I saw some of the guys from Mason’s club. My voice escaped me and my mind wouldn’t connect with my mouth to form words. There was no way for me to warn them that this was a trap. Even though he and I had gone to shit, my heart still ached at the thought of his beautiful, smiling face, or any of the others, going still in death. In the last few months, I had become close with all of them through Mason, Steph, and Reaper. They’d become like family to me, and I felt sick inside at my helplessness.

  Blackness snuck in from my peripheral vision when I heard shouts and gunshots. Silent sobs tortured my body as I imagined their blood flooding the cold concrete. Vaguely, I was aware of squealing tires and the sound of motorcycles roaring away from here. My consciousness wavered as my eyes grew heavy.

  When a blanket covered me, I wondered if I was dead and being covered by paramedics, or maybe that asshole because he assumed I was dead. No, he wouldn’t have cared one way or the other and would have been just as happy to leave me lying on the side of the road like unwanted refuse.

  A hand brushed my hair, stiff with blood, out of my face. Muted voices sounded around me, but I had no idea who had me. My eyelids were weighted and refused to open. Carefully, my body was gathered up and gently laid down again. As my consciousness continued to fade in and out, I heard faint, sporadic words with “got you” and “safe” being the only words I caught. The rest, like the voice, were muffled and recognition alluded me. My heart wanted it to be Mason, but my mind knew it couldn’t be. Wouldn’t be.

  The last thing I remembered before the darkness completely enveloped me was cringing away from painfully bright lights as someone pried my eyelids open and being jostled so bad the pain took my breath away.