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There aren’t really any students around at this time. They’re either in classes, eating, or done for the day. Audience or not we were searching every corner of this damn place.
“What do we do now?” I ask as he holds out a helmet for me, and I tug it over my head, desperate to get on the bike instead of riding in the SUV.
“We take this motherfucker home and beat the shit out of him until we find the truth,” he says. His jaw is so tight it could cut steel, and the determination in his eyes tells me ithasto be that simple for us to achieve it.
“Make him bleed, Emmett.”
* * *
Another grunt echoesaround the garage. All the doors are shut and locked, but for extra measure, Axel is standing guard at the garage door and Gray is by the main door. No fucker is getting in or out until we have answers.
I was relieved when they opted to boycott their usual torture location, not wanting to spook Declan or give him the opportunity to rat us out to Kincaid.
The stress on Axel’s face makes my heart ache. Emily may not behissister, but she’s a part of his family, our most delicate flower, and she’s in the hands of the devil. Gray’s expression is grim, irritation at how long this is taking is getting the better of him.
Ryker remains behind Joshua, looming over him as Emmett lands blow after blow on the motherfucker, but no matter how much blood splatters around us, Joshua continues to play dumb. I’m reaching my limit with him, but it seems he’s more than some dumb jock.
“Where’s my sister?” Emmett grunts, but Joshua just offers a bloody smile.
“I don’t know shit, man.” His head lulls to the side, and he manages a nonchalant shrug like this is all normal to him.
I’m ready to step in and get my hands dirty, but as I take one step toward the center of the room, Shift stops me. He takes my planned path instead, squeezing Emmett’s shoulder. My Viking looks up at him with a narrowed stare, but whatever he sees in Shift’s face is enough to make him take a step back and offer the floor to him.
Shift shakes off his cut, eyes narrowing at Joshua in his seat. His arms are tied with rope behind the back of the chair, and his ankles are strapped to the legs with cable ties. My oldest friend cracks his neck from side to side as he assesses the asshole holding out on us.
“I’m going to ask you a few questions, and every time you don’t give me the response I want, I’m going to torture you. Agreed?”
“I don’t know what—” His bullshit is cut off with a hiss when Shift lurches toward his face. I don’t realize there’s a blade in his hand until I see the track marks left on Joshua’s cheek as blood seeps down to his neck.
“The answer I was looking for was agreed or yes. Either would have sufficed. Do I need to repeat myself?”
“No,” Joshua grumbles, and Shift throws his hand out toward him again, but this time, he pats him on his other cheek with the side of the blade.
“Good boy.” Shift crouches. “Let’s start from the beginning, yeah? Did you know Kincaid before he approached you with this job?” Joshua shakes his head. “I can’t fucking hear you,” Shift bites, aiming the blade so the tip rests on his thigh.
“No.”
He twirls the blade, but doesn’t add any more force. “When did he approach you?”
“I don’t kn—Ah, fuck, man!” His bullshit response morphs into cries of pain as Shift slams the blade into his thigh.
“I said, no crap. If you’re not going to give me the answers I want, you’re just going to feel the wrath of my torture. I really can’t make it any easier for you to understand than that.” The cords in Shift’s arm flex, the tension visible on him from head to toe. “Is it worth me asking you again or should I just give you a matching wound on the other side?”
“Fuck, no. It was this morning. He approached me this morning.”
“And what did he say?”
“I-I can’t think with that thing sticking out of my leg,” he grunts in response, making Shift tear it from him. The guttural grunts echo around the room, and I shake my head at his foolishness. He may be talking a big game right now, but I’m pretty sure he would have preferred that to stay where it was.
“What did he say?”
“He offered me five thousand dollars to distract Scarlett and give her the letter.”
I huff. “I’m sure that five grand doesn’t sound quite so worthwhile now, does it?”
Joshua glares at me, but doesn’t speak. That doesn’t stop Ryker from yanking at his head to tilt his face back so he can snarl at him. “What did I fucking tell you about looking in her direction? Don’t make me start stabbing you for that too.”
That shouldn’t be hot, it really shouldn’t, but it is. I’m saving this thought for later though, now is about pain, not pleasure.
