Holiday Havoc

by Winters, KB

  Chapter Eleven - Gunnar

  Fuck, my head hurt like a motherfucker. It throbbed so hard, so damn loud I couldn’t even tell where I was. It was dark. “What the fuck?”

  “Gunnar?” Stitch’s voice rang out in the pitch black room but he sounded far away, or maybe it had something to do with the tennis ball sized knot on the back of my head. “Shit man, I thought you were fucking dead.”

  “Glad to see you came to my defense, kid. Why are the fucking lights out?” I tried to push up off the ground and that was when I felt my ribs. Where I’d been kicked, and hard plastic cutting into my wrists. The hard plastic like fucking zip ties. “What the hell is going on, Stitch?” I may not have been the smartest tool in the damn shed but nothing about this felt right.

  “You don’t remember?”

  A low growl escaped, frustration or maybe anger, I didn’t know. Maybe both. “Would I be asking if I did?”

  “Right.” Stitch took a deep breath and I listened in equal parts horror and anger as he reminded me about the un-fucking-necessary pitstop at his girlfriend’s apartment and her married boyfriend. “We fought, and you killed one of his men before you took the butt of a 9 mil to the back of the head and we ended up here.”

  Here seemed to be a cold slab of concrete in a dark room, which didn’t tell me much. “Shit, I killed somebody? I hope that fucker deserved it. Any idea where here is?”

  “Some fucking warehouse but I don’t know where.” The frustration in his voice was about the only damn thing that could have doused the anger threatening to spill out of me. “I was out for a long damn time, too. I think that crazy fucker chloroformed me. I woke up about an hour ago.”

  Shit. That meant he knew about as much as I did, which was to say not a goddamn thing. “Anyone been in here?”

  “Not since I first woke up. Some short Hispanic dude came in and dropped a few bottles of water between us, maybe three feet toward my voice.”

  I felt like I had cottonmouth, in addition to the biggest goddamn headache I’d ever had so I pushed myself up into a sitting position and tried to orient myself. Even in a black room, it spun from my movements. “Fuck that must’ve been one blow to the head.”

  “It was,” Stitch confirmed. “You were on the ground and the pussy stood right above you.”

  I listened to Stitch with a sinking feeling in my gut. As he talked about the fight, it all came back to me. The blood squirting from the asshole’s neck as he went down. Stitch knocking that little pissant Carlito to the ground. “Fuck.” These goddamn zip ties were a fucking problem and I wasn’t flexible enough to reach for my blade.

  “If you’re looking for help with these fucking flexi-cuffs, good luck. They’re tight as shit and your blade is back at Marisol’s place.”

  Marisol. Even the sound of her name pissed me right the fuck off. If not for her, and if not for Stitch’s inability to keep his cock zipped up, I’d be at home with Maisie right now. “This is your fucking fault, Stitch, I need you to know that. To hear me and really fucking let that sink in because when we get out of here, I’m gonna fuck you up.” He stayed silent like the kid he was and I grunted. “But right now, we have to figure a way out of this shit.”

  “We can’t do shit in this fucking place. I was so damn thrilled at first, thinking they’d be easy to get off since they tied us up in the front, but we’re good and fucking stuck.”

  That was where he was wrong. Though I would never admit this to the kid, or anyone for that matter, I’d spent a lot of time watching bullshit videos on YouTube while I was sitting around waiting for my mom to die. Some of it—crazy Russian drivers, epic fails and motorcycle fights—was useless, but some of those videos turned out to be pretty damn helpful. I’d renovated mom’s place on my own before putting it on the market with the help of a few at home DIY’ers and now I would get us out of this mess as well.

  “It’s a good thing I don’t plan on keeping these fucking things on for long.”

  “You keep a blade under your nut sac or something?”

  He was being a smartass while I was concentrating on trying to remember what I saw in that damn video at four o’clock in the morning. I rose to my feet figuring it would give me better leverage and pulled the little tail until my fingers started to tingle. Then I lifted my hands over my head and brought those motherfuckers down against my tightened stomach with all the force I could, and the hard plastic snapped down the middle. “No, asshole, I keep a brain in my fucking skull. You ready to get the fuck outta here?”

  Just then, the door opened and a large slice of light spilled in, silhouetting two figures in the doorway. “Be cool,” I whispered to Stitch and slid back to my spot, knocking over the remaining bottles of water in the process, goddammit. We needed any advantage we could get against these assholes and clearly it was up to me to find it.

  One guy walked in with two bags and tossed them on the floor. Thankfully he set the takeout cups down with a bit more finesse. While he dealt with the food, the other one held a gun trained on us, an M4 Carbine favored by the most brutal of the cartels. “Eat.”

  “No onions?” Stitch asked in his trademark smartass.

  “Eat, puto.” The little fucker turned with a smirk and left us again, in the goddamn dark. Apparently, he expected us to pick up our food in the dark, grabbing it with the cuffs on.

  “So what’s your great idea?” Stitch’s mouth would get him in trouble one day and I could only hope I wasn’t caught in the blast zone when it did.

  I saw him grabbing for the food and went over to him, smacking the burger out of his hand. “Don’t eat that shit, you don’t know what they did to it. Stand up.”

  “I’m not gonna fight you, Gunnar.”

  “I know that, stand the fuck up.” When he finally did what I asked, I showed him how to get out of his zip ties.

  “Holy shit, it worked!”

  I couldn’t help but smile at his enthusiasm. “We’re going to find a way out of this place,” he blurted out.

  It was hard to forget that compared to most of us, Stitch was little more than a kid. I took a few deep breaths to calm myself because I couldn’t keep snapping at him even if this was completely his fucking fault.

  “Keep quiet. We need to look around and see where we are, find something to use as weapons and figure out how to get the fuck outta here.”

  He waited a beat until my words sank in, then he gave a sharp nod. “Got it.”

  We were definitely inside some kind of warehouse because there were boxes and barrels every few feet. I couldn’t see for shit, but I knew that because every fucking time I turned, I collided with something, which meant it took a long damn time before I got to a wall with a few windows. About fifteen feet above my six-foot-four frame.

  “Fuck,” I muttered. I’d have to be a body builder to hoist myself up to that window. I just wanted to see where the hell that crazy Mexican had taken us.

  “Gunnar!” Stitch’s voice came out in a harsh whisper that was barely audible across the expansive room. I couldn’t see him but I moved toward his voice, careful not to knock over anything or make any noise that would send those fuckers running in here.

  “What did you find?” I asked when I finally reached him. He pointed up and followed the path of his finger to a window. It was only about six feet above us, but it couldn’t have been more than two feet wide and one foot thick which meant neither of us could fit through it. “Shit.”

  “I know,” he shot back with frustration in his voice. “Just get your old ass up there and look outside.”

  There was an urgency to his voice I’d never heard before. I knew before I hoisted myself up on the rickety desk and wiped away some of the dust that covered the window that whatever this place was, it wasn’t used regularly. At least this spot wasn’t because under my foot was a layer of dust that made it hard for my boots to grip.

  The window was twice as filthy, but when I squinted my eyes to readjust to the lights outside, I froze. Right ac
ross the street was a strip mall with a laundromat, some kind of greasy spoon diner, a grocery store that was the only establishment without any lights and a lawyer’s office.

  “It’s in fucking Spanish!”

  “I know, I hear them talking.” Stitch said. “All Spanish with no hint of English,” he explained carefully like I was a goddamn idiot who needed to have things explained to me. “We must be somewhere in Mexico.”

  Somewhere in Mexico. “Fucking Mexico.” That couldn’t be a good sign. There was only one reason I could think of why Carlito would bring us here. “We have to get the fuck out of here. Now.”

  “Damn straight. That crazy fucker isn’t letting us leave here alive.”

  The door slammed open again and then a familiar voice sounded. “Oh good, you’re awake.”

  I’d fought in the government’s wars, did more tours than I ever wanted to fucking think about again and killed more men—and a few children—who were just like me, caught up in some rich man’s web of greed and power. But watching Carlito in that doorway, backlit with blinking fluorescent lights, I finally understood what people meant when they said pure evil.

  Chapter Twelve – Golden Boy

  “Fuck man, it feels good to get a win!” I shouldn’t have been as excited as I was but it felt damn good to take home, not just the top prize which was fifty grand but we’d also taken home the prize for most innovative techniques and design for some of the 3D designs Lasso had done for a few celebrities breezing through Vegas.

  “Damn right it does,” Lasso whooped as he turned into my driveway and put the car in park. “Thirty-two G’s ain’t a bad haul for a week of work!”

  I frowned. “Dammit Lasso, I told you that you’re keeping the fifteen thousand for yourself and don’t act like you can’t use it. The way you and Rocky go at it, she’ll be pregnant again in no time.” Whenever I called or stopped by, they were going at it or had just finished. Hell, they’d be making eyes at each other even before me and Teddy were gone.

  “What can I say? My stamina is legendary and my wife can’t get enough of me.” He flashed his wide, cowboy grin before stepping out of the truck. “I can give you a few pointers if you’d like.”

  “My man exceeds all expectations in the bedroom, thank you very much.” I smiled as I looked up and caught sight of my wife in her long-legged, curvaceous glory. Standing on the porch in a pair of denim shorts and a thin tank top that our daughter tugged on with her chubby little hands, revealing Teddy’s red lace bra that had my mouth watering. My cock twitched for her.

  “Thanks babe, but I don’t need to prove shit to Lasso.” He barked out a laugh because the man was incapable of being offended. “He knows what a big strong man I am.”

  Teddy arched an eyebrow in my direction, her lips twisted into a sexy little smirk I couldn’t wait to kiss. She’d just applied that shiny fruity shit I loved so much to her lips, like she was waiting for me to come home and kiss it off of her. “Does he now? Anything you want to tell me about what happened in LA?” Her blue eyes sparkled with mischief. With joy and I knew, without a doubt, both were due to me.

  I smiled and climbed another step, so we were eye to eye. “Yeah, but not while there are tiny ears around.”

  “Daddy!” As my voice grew closer, it stirred our little girl in Teddy’s arms and she popped up with a wide baby-toothed grin.

  “Hey, Princess. How’s Daddy’s little girl?” She giggled and squirmed in her mother’s arms, eager to get into mine where she could count on a few tosses into the air and a big fat raspberry on her little belly.

  “Hi Daddy!” The sound of her laughter was what I lived for. It, more than anything, had revived me. Meeting Teddy had brought me back to life but Quinn, my beautiful little girl? She was what kept me going. Every morning I woke up and remembered how lucky I was to meet the fiery former model with balls of steel, and to have the greatest baby girl in the world.

  “Did you miss me?”

  Instead of answering, Quinn nodded hard and closed her eyes, puckering up for a kiss. “Sugar!” I gave her what she wanted but soon, too damn soon, she was distracted by the big blond cowboy at my side. “Cowboy!”

  “Well hey there, sugar.” He winked, charming even the littlest of women and I didn’t even mind when she reached for him because it gave me a moment to greet my wife in peace.

  “Hey babe.” I wrapped one arm around her waist and tugged her closer, inhaling her expensive floral scent. “You smell good.”

  Her laugh came out deep and husky as she threw her arms around me, fingers playing lightly in my long blond hair. “Hey back. Miss me?”

  “So fucking much.” The words came out on a growl. Guttural and primal, just like my desire, my need for her. “I can’t wait to show you. Later.” In that moment, all I needed was a quick taste of plump pink lips that tasted like watermelon and Teddy. A perfect fucking combination. The kiss started out soft, both of us pretending that we gave a fuck about things like decency and manners, before it kicked up a notch or ten and turned into flat out hotness. Our kisses were always intense, sharp with raw need and then grew into a frenzy of lips and teeth, tangling tongues, grunts, moans and groans. I couldn’t get enough, sucking her tongue while her fingers tightened in my hair.

  Lasso cleared his throat and after a few seconds, okay maybe a few minutes, I was able to pull myself from my wife’s succulent lips. “Mmm, remember where we were later.”

  I adjusted my pants while her body was still pressed against mine before letting her take a step up. “Like I could forget.”

  “I thought you were coming right back in.” Savior stood in the doorway of my home, arms crossed while he scowled at my wife.

  Teddy, shrugged, looking completely unmoved by his tone. “I was coming back in but have you ever been kissed by this man?” Her lips twitched as she fought the laughter that had already started shaking her body. “Ugh, grow a sense of humor Savior.” She turned to me and tugged me inside. “Come on, baby.”

  Instantly all traces of humor were gone. Savior was a surly bastard on occasion but everything about him vibrated with worry. Anger. Frustration. Maybe even a hint of fear, which meant the shit had hit the fan.

  Or it was about to.

  “What’s up?” I stood between the sofa and loveseat with my arms crossed, waiting for someone to tell me what the hell was going on. “Well?”

  Savior sighed and scraped a hand over his face. “Gunnar and Stitch are missing.”

  “And we’re all on lockdown,” Teddy added, aggravation rolling off her in waves. She put up with a lot of club shit because the Reckless Bastards were my family, but the seemingly regular lockdowns always made things tense between us. Teddy was a creature of habit and she didn’t like her whole world flipped upside down as a precaution. “Again.”

  Shit. “Okay. What do we know?”

  “Apparently we can’t leave these guys alone for even a few days without the whole club going to hell.” Lasso’s joke produced a few chuckles but Savior’s lack of a smile told me exactly how serious this shit was already.

  “It’s been at least two days as far as we can tell. Jag and Vivi are at the club house doing their digital shit to see what they can find.” The words came out robotic, wooden, a testament to just how bothered Savior was.

  “Vivi? She’s here?” I asked Savior. “She okay?”

  “Yeah, she’s here and okay. Working her little ass off right now. We need to get going.” Savior said. I nodded and turned to Teddy.

  “What do you need to grab?”

  “Nothing,” she said, rolling her eyes and sighing heavily to tell me exactly what she thought of the plan. “We’ve been there for days already. We just came here to greet you properly.”

  “Yeah? You waitin’ for a kiss too, Savior?”

  He grunted and stood. “Nope. I was waiting for that sweet ass.” Finally his lips twitched and then a deep laugh spilled from him, startling Quinn at first before she joined in like she was in on the j
oke. “Lock up. We need to get back to the clubhouse.”

  Of course we did. Two of our brothers were missing which meant we were on high alert and I only had one other concern. “Where’s Max?”

  “Keeping an eye on the shop. He said you wouldn’t want to close and with those fancy artists there, he wanted to keep an eye on shit in case anyone showed up.”

  My brother Max was the best damn man I knew. He’d come back from the brink of hell and was as solid as they came. “All right, then let’s get going.” I gave Teddy one last lingering look. “I guess later’ll have to wait.”

  “Guess so. But you can tell me all about your week when we get settled. Whenever that is.” Yeah, she wasn’t happy about the situation, but Teddy understood how serious it was so she bit her tongue, which I appreciated.

  “I love you.”

  She smiled. “Of course you do, I’m amazing.”

  “You love me too, Daddy!” Quinn leapt from Lasso’s arms to mine with a big laugh.

  “You know I do, Princess.” I smacked a kiss to her cheek that had her giggling so hard she nearly fell out of my arms. I grabbed the bag Teddy had packed for me by the door and we all headed out.

  Into another goddamn storm.

  Chapter Thirteen - Stitch

  “How many days do you think we’ve been in here?” I could hear the shakiness in my voice but it was too damn late to worry about that now. We’d been beaten two times just for fucking sport. Gunnar’s hero moves getting us out of the wrist cuffs was a fucking waste of time. As soon as Carlito saw we got free, he had his thugs beat the shit out of us and now they kept us tied up. I swore as soon as we got out of this place, Carlito was a fucking dead man.

  “Don’t know,” Gunnar gasped before spitting out what I could only guess was blood. “Maybe two or three days.”

  It was hard to tell because one of Carlito’s henchmen had put black tape over the windows so we couldn’t tell when it was day or night. The thick cement walls made it hard to hear anything so it could have been three days or three weeks for all we knew. “I think that fucker broke a rib.”