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“I kill you!” he finally shouted in English as Grim chuckled.
“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” I asked, lifting the whip again and swinging it with momentum before landing with a particularly brutal blow.
This time I didn’t understand a single word he said. Garbled with agony, his voice sounded almost inhuman in its cry.
“How do you meet the girls? Who is in charge?”
The Russian didn’t speak but his whole body trembled and spasmed in response.
Obviously, he was a tough son of a bitch. I’d give him that, but it didn’t matter. He’d break down eventually.
The door at the top of the stairs opened as someone came running down in a hurry. I blinked as Patriot focused on the Russian and he snarled, his gaze wandering the room for a few seconds before he picked up the mop against the far wall. The wood snapped with a loud crack as he broke off the handle and charged toward our prisoner.
“Fuck,” Grim muttered under his breath.
This was gonna be bad. Really bad.
Patriot was more pissed than I’d ever seen him. His Reaper had taken over and that meant he was too far gone for us to intervene. I’d seen a lot of fucked up shit in my life but even I had to turn my head as he took that handle and shoved it up the Russian’s backside. I would never forget the sound of anguish that burst from the prisoner’s lips.
I turned in time to catch Patriot’s look of total and complete satisfaction.
Grinning evilly, he listened to the Russian’s continued screams and cries of agony. “That’s for what you did to Trixie and all those girls, motherfucker!”
Holy shit. Patriot was one hell of a vindicator. And he wasn’t close to being done.
“How’s it feel to be violated? You like having someone shove something in your ass?”
Patriot had seriously lost his shit. I’d never seen him attack anyone so violently or viciously.
“I don’t think any of those girls liked it either!”
What the fuck was he talking about? Yeah, this Russian asshole was involved in the trafficking of women in Nevada, no doubt about it, but Patriot was acting like he knew something more.
“Patriot?”
“This is Alexi Voltoy,” he fumed. “The nephew of Vladimir Solonik.”
Fuck!
This mess just got a whole lot more complicated.
Wraith was still filming the whole thing as Grim remained silent, puffing on a smoke as our eyes met. He ticked his head toward the stairs and I reluctantly left the room with strict orders to keep the prisoner contained and leave him how he was. No one touched him until I returned.
Let him lay there with a broom handle sticking out of his ass. He deserved far worse.
“He’s Solonik’s kin. That’s a break we didn’t expect to get.” Grim shook his head and I could tell he was agitated. “That was seriously fucked up, but that asshole had it coming.”
I didn’t disagree. “This is how I find his uncle, Grim. I’m finally gonna get justice for Willow.”
Grim nodded. “I don’t want to kill him before we’ve had a chance to find out everything we need to know. He’s gonna pass out soon. Not much more that he can take.”
“Not now maybe, but he’s not walking out of here. I can’t allow him to go free after what he did to Trixie and the other girls he’s taken. We have to make it clear that these Russian fuckers have opposition.”
“That opens us up to a lot of shit, Rael.”
Sighing, I tried to rein in my impulse to argue. “I know that, pres. I’m not saying I want to bring this down on the club but it’s already here. The shitstorm has started, and already twelve girls have been reported missing all over central Nevada. It was only eight yesterday. I heard the update on the radio a few hours ago. It’s not going away.”
“True enough.” Grim shook his head. “We need to bring this to Church. Voltoy is yours to do with as you please but I have some questions of my own. He’s going to answer to me too. I don’t want you sending the video we’re taking until you talk to me. Got it?”
