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We hurried through the yard of the house directly behind us and out to the street, where a gray van rolled to a stop in front of us. The side door slid open, and I tossed Leon inside, then stepped back while the door shut, and the vehicle sped off.
“Bear,” I barked as I caught up with him. As we walked, I relayed what I’d heard from the kids and gave him their descriptions. “You need to go handle this shit now. If there are cops on the take, or they tell their boss…”
“Fucking hell,” Bear grunted. “Now’s the best time anyway, with the sheriff occupied. We’ll have a chat and keep eyes on her until they round up the others.”
“You sure we shouldn’t bring her in?”
“She’s the sheriff’s daughter, motherfucker. You want to explain that to him?”
I didn’t hesitate. “Fuck no.”
“Exactly.”
We’d arrived at our bikes, so we geared up and took off. Bear headed in a different direction while Dom, Patch, and I rode out to another building I owned, though this one was through four shell companies and had no occupants.
Breaker and Rider were waiting for us by the van, and when I hopped off my bike and headed their way, Breaker slid open the side door.
Leon had fully passed out by then, so I threw him over my shoulder again and stomped inside.
Dom and Patch followed while Breaker and Rider kept an eye out. After realizing that Leon had somehow followed us to the other building, we took extra precautions.
I dropped the meth head on a table, and Patch set his medical bag—Rider had brought it along—on a chair. He started digging through it, looking for what he needed to wake Leon up and get him coherent enough to answer our questions.
While he worked, I stood off to the side and called Cat.
“She’s fine,” she said the moment she picked up. “Still asleep. Looked in on her about ten minutes ago.”
I breathed a sigh of relief and thanked her before hanging up.
It took half an hour to push enough of the drugs through Leon’s system that he could understand what was happening. By then, we’d strapped him to the table, so his struggling and whining got him nowhere.
“Why are you looking for this woman?” I asked, holding up one of his pictures of Brynn.
“I’m not telling you anything,” he snarled.
I sighed and set down the picture to pick up a knife. “Might want to rethink that stance before I cut the answer out of you.”
Leon’s eyes widened a fraction. He tried to hide his fear but was unsuccessful since his eyes made it clear he was terrified.
“Why are you trying to find her?” I asked again.
He remained stubbornly silent, so I stepped beside him and ran the tip of my razor-sharp weapon down his middle finger, leaving a shallow slice.
“Let’s try this another way,” I grunted. “Every time you ignore a question, I slice another part of your body. If you lie to me, I’ll start cutting them off. Clear?”
Leon whimpered and eventually nodded.
“Why?”
“She was outside the building where my brother was killed.”
I made a shallow cut along the length of another finger.
“I answered you!” he shrieked.
“But you didn’t really, did you? It was a borderline lie, so be glad I didn't remove the finger altogether.”
An hour later, Leon was missing a few fingers and had multiple cuts in painful places—including his genitals—but I had the answers I wanted. Patch handed me a towel, and I went to the bathroom to clean all the blood off my hands. Then I called Bear.
