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We all take our bikes, with me using one of my older ones since I haven’t had time to think about a new one since the accident. Vance and his guys are in the blacked-out SUV behind us. We soon reach the nightclub and head downstairs. We have cells at the compound, but Rage doesn’t like using them with the younger boys living there.
We find Blade with Ben, who is tied to a chair in the center of the room, his mouth gagged as he tries to yell over the fabric.
Blade jumps off the counter that is to the side of the room with a dramatic groan. “Oh, thank fucking God. He is driving me fucking insane. Shut him up already. You have no idea how badly I want to play so I can hear him scream in a different way than he is now.”
I turn and look at Vance, who is leaning up against the wall. “I am not killing him yet. He will stay alive for days. Maybe even weeks. So you will have to do with a quick session and us getting some answers.”
Vance shoots a look at the other two guys he brought with him before giving me a curt nod. “Fine. I want proof of death. A picture.”
The guy behind him smirks. “Or his heart.”
The other guy sighs and mumbles something under his breath while Vance’s lips tilt up into a barely there smile.
I walk over to Ben and rip the gag out of his mouth. He snarls, “Presley will hate you for hurting me. You think she is going to like this? She will come to her senses and never want anything to do with you again.”
Clenching my fists, I walk over to the counter where Blade has already put out plenty of his toys. I grab a pair of pliers and walk back over to him. Grabbing his fingers, I rip off a fingernail. And then another.
He screams and tries to pull away but can’t.
I seethe, “Say her name again. I fucking dare you.”
Ben glares at me, but it does nothing when he is the one tied to a chair and you can clearly see the tears forming in his eyes.
“What? That’s it?” I chuckle. “You talk such a big game. I really thought you would have dealt with pain a bit better. Here is how this is going to go,” I continue when he doesn’t respond. “We will ask questions, and you will answer. That’s really it. There isn’t another option. Unless you choose not to answer, and then we will have to beat the answers out of you.”
I glance at Vance and raise a brow. He steps forward and crosses his arms. “I need to know who all you worked with and what things you have told them. Specifically, about my men and I.”
Ben chuckles through the pain and blood. “Why should I tell you anything? You didn’t protect me like you were supposed to. After everything I have done for you. You sided with these low-life pieces of shit. If it wasn’t for one loyal person on your team, then I would have been screwed a while ago. But someone told me you were meeting with these fuckers.”
“And who might have that been?” Vance asks, remaining perfectly calm.
“Brian.” Ben bares his teeth.
Blade shakes his head. “What the fuck is wrong with you? The people who have had your back… you turn on them so easily. What are you going to gain from that, you dumb fuck?”
“Throwing Brian’s name out makes things easier for me right now. I am not stupid. I can play this game.”
Blade cackles and walks around Ben, coming to stand behind him. He grabs a fist full of his hair and yanks it back as he runs the blade of his knife across Ben’s cheek slowly. Not breaking skin yet, but the fear is clearly showing on Ben’s face. “Oh, you poor, stupid, rich boy. Nothing is saving you in here. Giving us answers only delays the fun. There is no game. Not anymore. Whatever you thought you were playing, you lost.” He leans in close to his ear and whispers, “Presley, the queen she is, won.”
He releases his face and steps back. Ben tries to blink away stray tears, but a few still fall. Vance has been stock-still since Ben said the name Brian. I have no idea who that is, and as I glance at Rage, I can see he doesn’t either based on the shrug he gives me.
One of Vance’s guys steps forward and whispers in his ear. Vance nods and puts his mask back in place.
“Tell us everything you’ve told other people. I want to know what the police know. I want to know where you keep information that could damage us. I want to know what you did in Montana.”
After Blade and one of Vance’s guys take a hot iron to his skin, Ben easily spills everything. From informing the cops of his drug run routes so they could interfere to telling them how some of their warehouses are set up. He has everything saved in his home in a safe. Blueprints, documents, photos. Everything that he could need to destroy Vance. He was planning on giving it to the Mafia in Montana, but then everything happened with Presley, so he didn’t get a chance. He was making a deal with them to bring down Vance and his team. Then Ben wanted to work with the Mafia to set up operations over here that Ben would run himself.
I don’t know if it’s the stupidest thing I have ever heard or sort of smart. I am just grateful things turned out the way they did and Presley got out of there. I could only imagine what would have happened if she had stayed with him during all of this.
Vance leaves a few minutes after Ben is done. I swear there is steam coming out of his ears as he storms out, reminding us he wants proof of death. Vance is always so calm, cool, and collected. Seeing him slightly unhinged is kind of terrifying. I wouldn’t want to be on the other end of that fury.
We make sure Ben is secure and leave two guys at the club to keep watch over him. We shut down the nightclub for a few nights so we can figure out our next steps with Ben. After I clean up, I head back to the clubhouse and straight to Presley.
Mom is asleep in the chair next to her with Stone in the chair next to Raven, staring at her breathing. “She okay?” I ask.
Stone nods, not taking his eyes off Raven. “We got the bullet out. She lost a lot of blood, but I’m a match for her, so we gave her some of mine. She is stable for now. Doc wants to keep a close eye on her until she wakes up fully to see how she is then. He stitched everything up, but she will have scars.”
“The scars will never leave her. But you can help her manage them. You know what it’s like to carry scars like that. The ones that aren’t really yours.”
