“Carter, my man,” Ghost begins. “You brought this on yourself. Maybe you shoulda taken your vows a bit more seriously.”
Carter Mathis is a thirty-year-old prick who chose to step out on his wife. Cheating spouses isn’t something the Soulless Kings MC gets involved in, but unfortunately for him, he also has a penchant for using his fists when he doesn’t get his way. Bastard’s wife is Molly’s cousin, and Molly is a club whore.
When Molly’s cousin, Janice, showed up at the clubhouse with bruises covering her face and neck, the club was asked tointervene. Even club whores are considered family, which puts them and their loved ones under our protection.
“What does Janice have to do with this?” Carter demands, struggling against his restraints.
“Aw, that’s cute,” Poker states comically. “He really doesn’t have a fucking clue.”
“Whatever that bitch is sa?—”
The van shakes from the force of Ghost’s punch, and Carter’s words turn into cries of pain. “Thatbitchis your wife,” Ghost seethes.
Before Carter can say anything else, Poker grabs a roll of Duct tape and covers his mouth. I want to demand that he take it off so I can listen to this fuck’s pathetic excuses and pleas for his life, but I know the smart thing to do is hold in my rage until we’re back at the clubhouse.
An hour and a half later, my brothers and I are carrying the man around to the back entrance that leads straight downstairs to the Nightmare Room. I’d prefer to drag him, but his struggles made that impossible.
As soon as the large door slides closed behind us, we drop Carter to the concrete floor, and he does his best to scramble into the corner.
“Now he’s scared,” Ghost grumbles.
I stalk toward the cowering prick and yank the tape from his mouth, grinning when I see blood where the skin was ripped off. Crumbling the tape, I throw it to the floor.
“Grab me the torch,” I demand and hear my brothers snicker behind me. Five seconds later, the device is handed to me over my shoulder. I keep my eyes locked on Carter’s as I turn the knob, and blue flame shoots from the nozzle. “This might hurt,” I taunt.
His screams fill the room as I burn him alive, and my mind transposes another man’s face over his.
Twenty-one years old…
“Are you sure about this?”
I swallow my fear and nod. When I started prospecting with Soulless Kings MC, I had no fucking clue how my life would change. It’s been three years since my family died and a year and a half since their murderer was deemed incompetent to stand trial and admitted to the state hospital for treatment.
“I need the words, Screamer,” Crow snaps. “Because if you aren’t, we need to get the fuck outta here.”
I stare at the rundown brick building across the street, the one with equally rundown barbed wire fencing surrounding it. “I’m sure. Brian has to pay for what he did.”
Journey slaps me on the back. “Then let’s do this.”
After I was made a fully patched member of the club, I went to Crow and Journey and told them about my plans to make Brian pay for killing my sister and parents. They knew the story, knew what had me running from my past, and they agreed to help me.
It took a while to plan, but now that I’m here, minutes away from kidnapping the sick fuck from a facility that should be impenetrable, I’m scared. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not afraid of getting caught or even of what the guy could do to me if he manages to get the upper hand. No, I’m fucking terrified because looking at him, being face to face with him… it makes me think of Ally. It forces me to remember, and I hate remembering.
Memories equal pain.
Twenty minutes later, Crow, Journey, and I are back in the van with the man of the hour. Brian didn’t put up a fight when I entered his room—courtesy of my Pres and VP’s distraction—, and he isn’t resisting now. He’s sitting in the back of the cargo van like a choir boy waiting for his solo to begin.
What the hell?
“I thought you said he was crazy,” Journey states, glancing in the rearview mirror at me as he drives. “Seems pretty tame to me.”
“I said he convinced everyone else that he’s crazy,” I bark. “He’s as sane as they come with a heavy dose of evil sprinkled in.”
“My favorite,” Crow says, rubbing his hands together. He turns in the passenger seat to glare at Brian. “You should’ve gone to trial. Jail woulda been easier than what my man, Screamer, has planned for you.”
Brian scoffs, and it’s the first sound he’s made since he calmly said ‘hello’ to me earlier. “Ben doesn’t scare me.”
My blood boils, and my body heats with rage. “It’s Screamer,” I snarl. “You killed Ben, same as you did his whole goddamn family.”
