by Lane Hart
“I won’t, unless he has a weapon that I can’t get away from him. He works at a pawn shop, so it’s not a stretch to think he would carry a handgun.”
“Be careful,” I beg him.
“I will,” he assures me just as the lights of a car flicker through the dark house. “Showtime,” he says quietly. “I’ll wait for him behind the front door.”
“Okay,” I say. Before I move into my position out of sight in the hallway, I lunge forward and place a kiss on his lips. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” Verek replies, looking a little stunned.
Shit! Maybe I should’ve waited to do that until after we were done here, not right before Floyd walks in.
Either way, it’s too late now. I shove Verek toward the door with my free hand to get him moving before I hurry down the hallway, just around the corner so that I can hear everything, the gun clutched in my hands at the ready. I even rest my finger over the trigger so that all it will take is a second to fire it if Floyd gets away from Verek. Not that I think he will.
I don’t hear the key in the lock, just the door opening and shutting, and then there’s a loud whomp. That’s when I sneak a peek into the living room. Verek is towering behind Floyd, slamming the front of his pudgy body into the wall, hopefully not hard enough to leave any bruises as he tries to restrain him, his forearm over his throat. Verek’s biceps bulge with effort, and I know that I shouldn’t find him sexy like this, when he’s in the middle of putting a man to sleep – permanently – but I do. He’s just so tough and masculine, impossible to resist at any day or time.
The man thrashes hard, attempting to get away, until they’re both on the ground. But finally, thankfully, he goes still underneath Verek. He keeps his hold on him down there for several more minutes to make sure he’s really out before he climbs off him.
“Whew!” Verek says as he gets to his feet, swiping his face on the sleeve of his shirt to remove the sweat before he turns to face me, as if he knew I had been watching even when I was supposed to be hiding. “Dirty son of a bitch was feistier than I expected.”
“I didn’t worry for a second,” I tell him truthfully.
“Let’s get this done,” he says, and I nod my agreement as I force my body into motion.
Chapter Twelve
Verek
* * *
Tessa sets up the chair in the bedroom closet where we decided to stage Floyd’s suicide. Even in darkness, I can tell she’s having a hard time with this one.
That’s why, after I drag his body into the bedroom, I tell her, “He’s dead, sweetheart. You don’t have to stay for the rest. It’s just to set the scene.”
“Are you sure?” she asks, looking down at the man at my feet, her arms wrapped around her waist protectively.
“I’m absolutely sure,” I reply. “Why don’t you check to make sure everything looks good in the living room and we didn’t damage the wall or drop anything over there?”
“Yeah, okay. I can do that,” she agrees before she leaves the room.
I admit that while I’m relieved to have the third one done, it’s still an additional burden on my shoulders I wasn’t expecting. Killing men, even these evil bastards, doesn’t get easier. If anything, each one was more difficult than the last. It goes against human nature to hurt someone else, which is why I don’t understand how these assholes could do what they did to those women.
Now, more than ever, we know there were more than Tessa and the other three from around Myrtle Beach. I counted at least twenty pieces of hair in his trophy box, the sick fuck.
How many more would he have added to the box if we hadn’t killed him? If I hadn’t killed him and his three friends? There is still one more man to go, but before the night is over, he’ll be dead too, and then our mission will be complete.
I think I’m dreading facing Roman more than anything else I’ve done. It’s not going to be pretty. In fact, I think he was serious when he said that my time with the Savage Kings is over and done. Not that he can single-handedly vote me out.
That thought inspires a bit of hope in my chest as I rig up Floyd on the rope and then knock the chair over to ensure there are lines around his neck to convince the police there was no foul play here. Hell, I bet even some officers would look the other way if they had any doubts because of what this sick bastard has done to women.
As I do a double check in the bedroom for anything out of place, I try and count the votes at the Savage Kings table. Who would vote me out for going behind Roman’s back? It would have to be a majority vote against me to kick me out for good.
Marcus most likely would side with Roman, only because that psycho motherfucker will be pissed that he wasn’t able to get his hands dirty for a good cause.
Leo is too green, newly patched in, so he’ll toe the line and vote with Roman.
Winston is our VP and Roman’s best friend, so that’s four votes already. One more and I’m toast.
My only chance of staying is if I can convince Cannon or Conrad to vote to keep me. The twins always vote the same way no matter what, giving me two votes to hold off Roman. I would also have to try and talk to Hugo, Nolan, and Abel, who were nomads before joining us about a year after I first patched in. They usually keep to themselves but are closer to each other than the rest of us thanks to their wandering ways.
Now I’m starting to wish I had made more of an effort to get to know them before now. Not just because I need their vote but because my time is running out.
“Verek?” Tessa calls from the living room before I hear her coming down the hall. I stop her at the doorway, so she won’t see Floyd in the closet. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah, sorry. Just got caught up in my own head,” I tell her. “Ready to get out of here?”
“God, yes,” she says, her nose wrinkled in disgust. “This place is awful.”
“It is,” I agree. “Let’s go home. One more stop to make and then it’ll all be over.”
“Maybe I’ll sleep without any nightmares tonight.” Reaching for my gloved hands, she takes it in hers. “I wish you could stay with me again.”
“Me too,” I say, which is the truth. I want that more than anything, not just tonight but every night. Tessa’s the reason that I haven’t been with another woman in months, a new record for me.
“Roman isn’t going to let me step foot in his house.”
“I know. I’m sorry,” she says.
“Don’t worry about any of that,” I tell her, giving her hand a squeeze, loving that she’s comfortable enough to initiate even that small contact. “We’ve got a two-hour drive back. Think you can make it the whole way without stopping?”
“I think so,” she agrees. “And then we’re going to the boathouse to end things?”
“That’s the plan. I don’t have my regular phone, so I don’t remember the schedule for who has watch tonight. Doesn’t matter, though. Whoever it is will understand what needs to be done when we tell them the rest are dead.”
“Good,” Tessa replies with a sigh.
The drive back was easy this time of night.
And when we pull up at the boathouse and see the two similar and shiny new black and silver Fat Boy Harleys, I’m not sure if I lucked out tonight with the twins or am sealing my exiled fate.
“Here we go,” I say to Tessa when I climb off my bike. I turn around and offer her my hand to help her down, which she takes without hesitation, making whatever decision the Kings make worth it.
Before we reach the door, her hand still in mine, Cannon is coming out to meet us with his phone serving as a flashlight, talking a mile a minute like usual. “Verek? Dude, you’re in deep shit! What are you doing here? Roman told you he doesn’t want her here. Are you asking for a beating?”
“Can I talk to him for a second?” I ask Tessa, who nods and walks back over to my bike that’s still within sight.
“Are you gonna vote me out?” I get right down to it and ask Cannon quietly, not wanting
Tessa to hear and worrying herself about my place with the Kings.
“Huh?” he mutters, momentarily speechless, which is a first for him. “Vote you out? You think it’s coming to that?”
“Don’t you?” I ask. “Roman pretty much already told me to turn in my cut.”
Cannon’s silent for another long second before he says, “He can’t do that. He needs a majority vote.”
“You’re right,” I agree, glad that he sounds like he’s not happy about Roman’s call. “I need the majority vote more than he does.”
“No fucking way!” he says, holding up his palms in front of him. “I don’t want to get into the middle of your feud!”
“Too bad,” I say. “You’re going to have to choose a side.”
“Fuck,” he mutters, knowing I’m right.
“Verek was helping me,” Tessa speaks up and says, coming over to join in my defense. “I didn’t want the entire MC to chance getting caught. If anything, he did you all a favor! I’m not worth ten men spending life in prison for my vengeance.”
Cannon looks between me and her several times before he responds to that. “We thought you were worth it. All of us, especially Roman…and I guess, especially Verek. He’s going to blow a fucking gasket if he has to be in the same room as you. Verek, man, I’m just not sure the guys will want you back at the table anytime soon.”
“I’m not asking to come back right now,” I assure him. “I can give Roman some time to calm down. However long it takes.”
“What do you mean?” Tessa asks. “Where are you going?”
“I’m thinking about going Nomad, or just taking a step back from the MC until all this blows over,” I explain to her and Cannon. “Would you be on board with that?” I ask him.
“If you leave, you can’t come back, not until Conrad and I think Roman is ready to forgive you.”
“You can’t ask him to do that.” Tessa exclaims. “That could take years.”
“Then, Verek will have to wait years, won’t he?” Cannon responds.
“It’s fine, sweetheart,” I assure her. “It could be just weeks or a few months.”
“Or a decade,” Cannon mutters, but I choose to ignore him.
“Leaving for now is better than being voted out. You know that, right?” I ask Tessa.
“There must be another option!” she huffs.
“There’s not,” Cannon and I both say at the same time. Cannon goes on to add, “Your boy is on the chopping block. Roman wants his head.”
Tessa shakes her head. “I could…I could go with you.”
“I think we both know that you’re not ready for that. The last few days have been great, but you don’t like being left alone. I’ll have to find another job, probably working a club at night. I couldn’t leave you every night.”
“I could go with you, to work,” she offers.
“No, sweetheart. The only way Roman will ever let this shit go is if I’m gone and you’re safe under his roof with him and Charlotte.”
“But I can’t stay with them forever!” she exclaims. “They’re engaged! Soon, they’ll be married and want me out of there.”
“I know that. I’m counting on it. When that happens, Roman will have to trust your safety to someone else.”
“This really is the best plan, doll,” Cannon tells her. “Stick to it, man, and you’ve got my support,” he says, holding out his palm toward me.
“Conrad’s too?” I ask as we shake on it.
“I’ll brief him, and he’ll probably be on board,” he replies.
“So now I just need to run it by Hugo, Nolan, and Abel to see if they’ll bite.”
“Those three don’t have any loyalties to Roman, other than taking his orders. They’ll make their own decision about this situation.”
“Yeah. Hopefully,” I agree.
“So, you still haven’t said why you’re here, although I have an inkling,” Cannon remarks.
“The names and addresses Joey gave us were solid,” I explain to him. “They’ve been handled. Now all that’s left to finish this is putting him down.”
“Fuck,” he grumbles, running his fingers through his blond hair. “Roman is going to have our asses if we let you touch him,” he says, referring to him and Conrad since they’re on watch tonight.
“I won’t have to touch a hair on his head,” I assure him.
Before he can talk me out of it, I lead Tessa by the hand toward the door of the boathouse. Conrad is waiting just on the other side of the run-down wooden shack, standing in the doorway, keeping an eye on his prisoner and on his brother at the same time.
“How’s it going?” I ask him when we walk inside. “Want to head home early tonight?”
He looks to Cannon, who is on our heels. His brother nods, so Conrad gives a shrug. “I’m just glad this is done. He’s been asking us to get it over with already,” he says, nodding to what’s left of the man sagging in the stocks. Tessa gasps when she finally sees him and covers her mouth. I don’t know whether it’s because he’s beaten and bloody or because he’s being held in the exact way that they held her and the other women.
“Do you want to wait outside with Cannon?” I ask her softly when I let her hand go to pull out my gun from the back of my jeans, the same one I gave Tessa earlier to protect herself in case shit went sideways.
“No. I can handle it.”
“Verek,” Cannon says in warning, as if he has doubts that she’s capable of watching. He doesn’t know her as well as I do, though.
“She can make up her own mind,” I tell him.
Chapter Thirteen
Tessa
* * *
I wrap my arms around myself as Verek strolls up to the severely wounded man with cuts and burns all over his body.
If I didn’t recognize his face and the dagger tattoo on his right arm that’s locked in the stocks, I would probably feel sorry for him. It’s been almost a week since the Savage Kings caught him and brought him here.
But I bet nothing they’ve done to him has been half as horrible as what he and the three other men did to me and all of those other women, some for more than a week before they killed them.
“Any last words?” Verek asks the prisoner.
“Kill me. Please,” he begs with a scratchy voice.
So maybe they hurt him more than I expected if he’s ready to die.
“Your three friends are dead,” Verek says. “Time for you to finally meet them in hell.”
With that statement, he holds the barrel of his gun up to the side of the man’s drooping head.
I startle at the loud boom of the gun going off, but I don’t scream. And as my heart gallops away, I stare at the crimson mess left behind. Blood is splattered everywhere, even on Verek’s T-shirt.
My first thought shouldn’t have been thank goodness he wasn’t wearing his leather cut, or he may never get it clean. But it was, because four men ruined me with their violence. They may have broken me, but I’ve been putting myself back together, stronger than before.
I’m an accomplice to four murders. That thought doesn’t even faze me because I’m too relieved. Never again will I wake up from a nightmare and have a panic attack, worried they will find me and finally kill me like they planned all along.
There’s nothing I can do to stop thinking about those hours when I was taken by monsters. Knowing they’re dead is exactly what I needed to try and move on with my life.
“Oh fuck,” Verek mutters when he glances down and sees the mess he’s made. He shoves the gun in the back of his jeans and rips his shirt off over his head before wiping his hands on it and tossing it to the ground. “Now I’m glad we didn’t have to use guns on the others,” he mutters. “What a mess…”
“We’ll take care of it,” Cannon says. “You need to get her home.”
I don’t like how he refers to Roman and Charlotte’s house as my home. Yes, I feel safe there, and I’m glad to have my best friend around because there’s no way I cou
ld live alone just yet. But now, after the past two days, my home feels like it’s with Verek. And knowing that he’s going to be leaving, even if it’s only temporary…well, I’m not ready to let him go.
When Verek starts over to me, looking a little out of sorts, I throw my arms around his neck and hang on tight, not caring if he has the blood of my abuser on him. For a second, I feel his palm touch my hip before he drops it. I know he didn’t do it because he doesn’t want his hands on me but because he’s not sure if I’m ready for his touch. And I’m not sure either. But this, holding him, feeling the strength of his hard body against mine, is all I need right now.
“We’ll give you two a minute,” Cannon says.
I’m not sure if the two men are still there or not when I grab either side of Verek’s face and pull it down to place my lips on his, kissing him softly over and over again, which he returns with the exact amount of force. It’s not enough, though. I want more of him. All of him. As soon as I swipe my tongue over the crease of his lips, he opens for me.
God his mouth! Nothing has ever been so sweet and salacious at the same time. He may be holding himself back from putting his hands on me, but he shows no restraint with his tongue or lips. My palms slide down his neck to caress his bare chest, down to his etched stomach and back up again, unable to get enough.
It’s not fair to him, how lopsided things are between us. I know that, but that doesn’t mean I can rush things before I’m certain that I’m ready. Verek understands this, I’m sure, so he lets me indulge myself.
We stand there with me on my toes, our mouths locked for so long it could be morning for all I care when we finally do separate.
“I don’t want you to leave,” I whisper.
“It won’t be forever,” he promises, covering my hand on his chest with his and giving it a squeeze.
“I wish I was strong enough to go with you.”
“You are strong,” he says. “You still have a whole lot to deal with. For now, I think you need Charlotte more than you need me.”