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I stepped into the hall, closing and locking the door.
“Dunno, man. He ain't talking. But who the fuck else could it be?”
I nodded, making my way down the hall. “Well I guess we have to fucking make him talk then, don't we?” I asked. “He in the shed?” I asked and Wolf nodded his head at me. “Who is with him?”
“One of the probates,” Cash said, looking uneasy as I felt with that prospect. “He's cuffed.”
I tore through the compound, taking across the field at a dead run, unlocking the door Cash or Wolf had remembered to bolt on their way to find me.
The shed was a normal wooden one that we reinforced with soundproofing material and cinderblocks and plumbed a drain into the floor.
A lot of blood got spilled in the shed.
And it looked like tonight there would be a lot more.
Inside, the probate was standing three feet away from the man cuffed to the chair, his legs wide, one hand curled into a fist, one holding a bat, his knuckles white he was gripping it so hard. He had a taste for blood. I liked that in my men.
“Proby,” I said, my voice gruff.
He turned, young. But strong. Fierce. I didn't know much about the probates until they got patched-in. But this one had a past. You could see it in the hardness in his dark blue eyes. You could clearly see it in the scar that ran down the side of his face, cutting off at the sharp jut of his jaw. He'd seen some shit. He had done some shit. He was going to make it into the Henchmen. No question about it. “Prez,” he said, nodding his chin at me and moving back to lean against the wall.
“You catch him?”
He nodded his head. “Drifter spotted him, but he got taken down.”
“He breathing?”
“Doc's got him,” he nodded.
“Good job...” I trailed off, not ashamed of not knowing his name.
“Repo,” he supplied, nodding, silently going to the door and letting himself out, knowing it was official business and he wasn't in the inner circle yet.
I looked down at the guy on the chair. Tall and muscled. Brown hair. Bright blue eyes. “Fuck you doin' on Henchmen turf?” I asked, feeling my tiredness slip away, replaced with the charging blood in my veins.
“Taking a little early morning stroll,” he said casually, smirking.
Great. He was gonna be difficult.
Well, at least I could enjoy my time with him.
My fist cocked back, swinging forward, and landing hard enough into the man's jaw to hear a crack. His neck flew in the other direction, but he simply snapped it back, grinning with blood in his mouth.
“Not getting shit from me, man. You might be bad. But I've known worse.”
“You work for V?” I asked, my fist landing to his nose before he even had a chance to think about answering.
All I got was a laugh.
And I saw red.
And then I spilled it.
A lot of it.“Prez,” Wolf said, his hands grabbing my arms and pulling me backward. I fought against his hold for a minute, my blood surging too hard in my ears to think straight. “Gettin' nowhere,” Wolf reasoned.
I took a breath, settling down enough for Wolf to let me go, staring at the punching bag I had made of the trespasser. Who was still just sitting there, grinning away.
“Fuck,” I growled.
“Bro,” Cash cut in, leaning against the wall, arms crossed. “Think maybe you should bring her down?” he asked.
“Bring who down?”
“You know who,” he answered, a brow lifted. “She might be able to give us proof.”
“No fucking way,” I said immediately, thinking of the sleeping Summer up in my bed- peaceful, happily fucked.
“Only way,” Wolf reasoned.
They were right. I knew they were right. And that was the worst part.
I wanted there to be some other choice. Any other choice.
But they were right.
I had to ask that of her.
And she might never forgive it of me.
“Fine,” I growled, taking off toward the door. “You stay here,” I told Wolf, slamming the door.
But I ended up slamming it into Cash as he followed me out. “Yo slow the fuck down,” he said, looking up at the slowly rising sun.
“What?” I growled, stopping short to glare at him.
“Think maybe you should at least wash your hands before going up there?” he asked.
I looked down. And again... he was right.
I went into the club, scrubbing best I could, but there was nothing I could do about my shirt. So I took off toward the rooms.
Where I met a crowd of men and half-dressed women, standing in the hallway, all looking alarmed.
“What the fuck you all...” I started, and then I heard it.
Screaming.
Summer screaming.
I took off toward the door at a run, stabbing the key in, throwing the door open, flicking on the light. And there she was, still under the covers, curled on her side, fast asleep. Screaming.
“Fuck,” I said quietly.
“She alright?” one of the bitches asked, sounding worried.
“Got a past,” I said vaguely, slamming the door in their faces.
I walked over toward the bed, kneeling beside it, and reaching out for her shoulder. The second my hand touched her, her eyes flew open: wild and unseeing for a moment.
“It's alright. You're alright,” I said, trying soothing but my voice was too on edge to pull it off.
“What's the matter?” she asked immediately, sitting up, the blanket pooling around her hips, giving me a lush view of her perfect tits. Her eyes drifted over my face, then down to my shirt. “You're bleeding!” she gushed, eyes going wide.
“Not my blood,” I said, reaching out to stroke my knuckles down her cheek.
“What's going on? Whose blood is it?”
I sighed deep. “I was hoping you could help tell me that.”
Her eyes squinted for a second. “How?”
My hand went to her thigh, squeezing it. “My guys think they caught one of V's guys,” I started and her entire body went taut as a bow. “Relax. He's not gonna touch you,” I tried, but if anything she only got more tense. “He won't talk. I've tried.”
