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A noise made us stop talking, and I glanced up as a door opened and a guy walked in. Behind him came two guards. They were little better than hired thugs. The frontman looked at me.
“We had a mutual acquaintance,” he said calmly.
“Did we?” I asked.
“Yes, my cousin Pickman. Ring a bell?”
If I needed confirmation that I was up shit creek without a paddle, I’d just got it. This was definitely the underground fighting ring, and they had me caged. I already understood what was happening.
“Last time I saw Pickman, he was getting handsy,” I said.
“Do you think you’re fuckin’ funny?”
“Well, he was head and shoulders above the rest of us,” I quipped.
The guy lifted his hand and clicked his fingers. One of the thugs moved forward and shoved a cattle prod into the cage and jabbed me, turning it on. I hit the floor and shook violently.
“Not so funny now, is it, asshole?”
“You can tell Stephan Marker, he’ll be getting quite a collection of heads. Do you think I’m working alone?”
Another click sounded, and the cattle prod rammed into me again, longer this time. I gritted my teeth and barely refrained from crying out in pain. I wouldn’t give them the satisfaction.
“The boss will receive your head first. Tiny is next. His will join yours on a spike, followed by that fucker, Locke’s. And I’m gonna piss in your mouths daily.”
“Kiss your mama with that mouth, do ya? She must be so proud of her baby boy.”
A cattle prod hit me, and with such intensity, I almost blacked out. The asshole whistled, and the thug stepped away. “The crowd is going to fucking love you tonight. One of the heroes of Rapid City fighting for his life again. Shame you won’t survive it.”
This guy wasn’t wrong; I wasn’t a cold-blooded killer. I could defend myself in the ring, but I couldn’t kill a man outright, not without reason. The other guy in the cage was like me, trying to stay alive. I closed my eyes and thought of Meadow and the children. I just hoped they knew how much I loved them.
Inglorious
What the hell was going on? First off, Meadow had been kidnapped and Twitch injured. Now Moon and Razor had found King unconscious under his bike, and there was no sign of Chill. I wanted to say I wasn’t shaken, and that there wasn’t a sense of dread twisting my stomach. The feeling I’d experienced back in Rapid City, when I opened my eyes and most of my club was dead, was returning tenfold.
I was spiralling, and I was fully aware of it. My hand shook as I craved a drink, needing to dull the pain. Two arms wrapped around me as I stood in the ER waiting for news of King and Twitch. Her perfume wafted over me, soothing me with its familiarity, as she laid her head on my back.
“We will find him,” Nanci stated.
“I can’t lose Chill,” I murmured.
Nanci’s grip tightened on my stomach. “We won’t. Chill has something to live for. He’ll fight, and he’ll hold on.”
“What if he doesn’t?”
“Stop talking shit. We’ll go door to door, street to street, barn to barn. There is nowhere in South Dakota they can hide him—the allies will rip South Dakota apart looking for Chill.”
My phone rang, and I looked down before answering it.
“It’s Tiny. I’ve got Meadow.”
My shoulders sagged in relief, and the tension eased a little. “Is she alive?” I asked.
“Yes. Seems her fuckwad ex-husband tried to sell her to Felix Locke. Locke recognised Meadow and made sure she was unharmed. Inglorious, you’re going to owe him for this. Locke will ensure he has a marker from you.”
“Have you heard about Chill?”
“No. What?”
