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I cock my fist back and he squeezes his eyes shut, straining to duck his head as if he thinks he can avoid the blow. “Someone helped me!”
“Who?” I release him and stagger backwards. My brain runs through the possibilities. Greg? Trent? I’ll gut them both and dump them on the side of the highway.
Shit, I left Greg at the hospital. What if he was involved?
No, Murphy won’t let anything happen to Shelby. She’s safe.
“If I tell you,” Martin begs, “will you let me go?”
“You don’t get to bargain here.”
He shakes his head, sweat pouring down his round face. “Don’t hit me anymore.”
I grab him by the throat and yank him closer. “If you don’t tell me, a few punches will be the least of your worries. I’ll torture you with every piece of rusty equipment I find in this barn until you’re begging for death. Something tells me you’ll break before I get to the castration tools.”
He flinches, then licks his lips. His gaze darts between Pants and Ice, as if pleading with them to save him.
Since that’ll never happen, I guess Martin needs some motivation to start talking. I unsnap the hunting knife at my side and hold it up to his face, letting him have a good look at the long, shiny blade. His eyes widen and his body twitches as he struggles to get away.
But death is his only chance of escape.
I drop my knife hand and poke the sharp tip of the steel blade into his groin. “I read every letter you sent my girl. You’re sick and need to be put down,” I whisper in his ear.
It’s taking every ounce of my control not to jam the knife into his flesh.
“Please,” he begs.
I dig the tip of the knife into his chin and push his head back until he meets my eyes. “Start talking or I start cutting.”
Chapter Eleven
Rooster
“How do you want to handle Jackson?” I ask Ice once we’re alone outside.
“Don’t worry about him, bro.” He cocks his head. “You really want to turn him over just to get this bitch?”
I run my hands through my hair. “I don’t know. I can’t exactly ask Shelby what she wants to do. There’s a good chance the publicity it’ll bring will make her life difficult.”
“Ninety-five percent of this is on Martin. He didn’t have that much help,” Ice points out.
“I know.”
Ice shrugs. “Then again, we can always get to him later. You might not be able to do the deed yourself if he’s inside. We’ll have to contract it out. You cool with that?”
“We’ll see.”
He slaps my shoulder. “Let’s load him up. If you change your mind, we can always come right back.”
“Thanks.” I stop Ice with a hand to his chest. “I mean it, brother. Everything you’ve done to help me get her back. I was supposed to be down here to help you out, not calling in your favors with the Feds and dragging you into something—”
“Please don’t get weepy on me, Rooster.” He pats my chest. “I’m glad we got her back. Z was a relentless motherfucker.” His lips twitch into a smirk. “Guess I won’t get to poach his VP after all.”
I snort at the suggestion. “You got a solid team here.” I jerk my thumb over my shoulder in Pants’ direction.
“I have a good crew,” he agrees. “You’d be an excellent addition.”
It’s nice to be wanted, but if I ever leave downstate it’ll be to go Nomad, not move to Virginia.
T-Bone rides up, his engine drowning out any more conversation. He shuts down his bike and saunters over. “What’re we doing with this fool?”
“Handing him over to Jackson,” Ice answers.
T-Bone raises his eyebrows. “Yeah? You’re all right with that, Rooster?”
“He didn’t act alone.”
“Well, fuck. How you plannin’ to explain his injuries?”
Ice shrugs, like he couldn’t give a fuck less. “Car accident? That’s Jackson’s problem, not ours.”
“They beat me up,” Martin whines and holds up his raw wrists. “One of those psychos cut off my finger.” He wiggles what’s left of his bloody pinky.
We’re in the parking lot behind the hospital. No one’s close enough to overhear our conversation, but that could change at any moment.
Now that I’ve returned to the hospital, I’m eager to get this over with so I can see Shelby.
Jackson sweeps a dismissive glance over Martin’s injuries. “You stole a biker’s girl. You’re lucky that’s all they did to you.” He leans in closer. “You’d done that to a member of my family, no one would ever find your body.”
Martin’s jaw drops.
Another officer joins us, snapping handcuffs on Martin and tossing him in the back of a police car.
“What exactly am I supposed to do with him?” Jackson seethes once the other officer is out of hearing range. “It would’ve been better for everyone if you’d disposed of his body.”
