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“Yup, there’s a reason for that,” I say and let the unspoken words hang. Actually, for many reasons, but this is the only room she’ll be seeing down here. Once the door opens, I spin and toss her over my shoulder before entering.
“Mmm, kinky,” she says, her voice husky as she smacks my ass. Fuck, this needs to end soon.
Walking to the center of the room, I notice both Tripp and Timber already have rope in their hands. I sit her down roughly on the chair and immediately grab her wrists, wrenching them behind her. Tripp hands me some rope and I get to work binding her wrists together. A moan escapes her, and another shiver of disgust runs through me.
“Didn’t realize you’d be bringing friends along, Dragon.”
“Shut the fuck up, Nicole,” I bite out. It’s then that she realizes she’s not going to get what she wants and the reality that she’s in danger sets in. She starts throwing her body around and kicking out her heels, trying to stab us.
“Quiet down, barbie doll, no one can hear you down here,” Timber says, his voice tight as he snags one of her legs, rips off her shoe, and then restrains her leg to the chair. Tripp grunts and swears, but he finally gets ahold of her other leg and secures her. Fuck, I think she nailed him in the balls with her heels.
Once her wrists are bound, I pick up the last length of rope and tie it around her middle, securing her to the back of the chair.
My phone pings and once I’ve got her secure, I dig it out of my pants.
Thor: She secure?
Dragon: Yeah, so get your ass down here so we can get this done. I think Spitfire saw us, so I’d like to get home pronto.
Thor: Fuck. We’re already shutting down the party. No idea where Wildcat is. I didn’t realize she wasn’t by me until it was too late.
My anger at this whole fucking mess grows as I read his text and I stomp over to the wall, leaning against it as I try to figure out how I can make Spitfire believe we couldn’t figure out a different way to go about this in the short amount of time that we had. Nicole had been checking her phone a lot, which had us on edge that she’d slip away before we could grab her.
“Dragon, what the hell is going on? Untie me!” Nicole yells as she tries moving around to loosen the knots. Fat chance she’d be getting out of those. Dad followed Grandpa’s lead and was in the Navy for a while. When we were kids, he shared his knot-tying skills with us, among other things. When we were older, both Thor and I joined the Navy and continued the tradition.
“Shut the fuck up, bitch, or you’re not going to like what happens next,” Tripp snaps at her.
She growls as she twists her wrists and then hisses. “Untie me this instant, you assholes!”
Not wanting to get a headache from her screeching, I walk over to the cabinets that hold our tools and grab a piece of cloth. Walking back over to her, I give her my coldest glare and let her see the dragon inside of me. Fuck, I wish it was a man that’d done this so I could unleash the anger inside of me right now. She shrinks back and at least has the sense to look guilty.
Timber walks up next to me and pries her mouth open. When she sees the bandana, she tries to get out of Timber’s grip, which has his grip tightening. Quickly, I tie it tightly around her head, gagging her, and for now at least, mostly silencing her annoying voice.
Muffled screams go on for another ten minutes before the door unlocks and the rest of my brothers file into the room, led by a very pissed-off Thor. Once the door closes and locks, he paces around her in a circle. Her head pivots to try to keep him in her line of vision.
Stopping in front of her, he levels her with an icy glare that has her shrinking back.
“When we remove the gag, you’re going to answer our questions. If you spout off bullshit or keep screaming, the gag will go back on and you’ll be punished. Is that clear?”
She hesitates and when his face darkens, she nods. Thor motions to Tripp to ungag her. He limps over to her and yanks it off before standing behind her, ready to put it back on if need be.
“Why’d you plant the cameras?”
“I-I don’t know what you mean. I didn’t plant anything,” she says as she plasters on an innocent look.
“We know you did. We have proof.”
She scoffs and rolls her eyes. At the same time, she sits up taller, having regained some of her composure. “Sure you do,” she says sarcastically. “You guys had a huge party tonight. Anyone could have planted cameras.”
“Who did you come with tonight?”
“No one. I called an uber.”
“Who are you working with?”
“Get off that train of thought, or are you too stupid to hear what’s coming out of my mouth? I didn’t plant anything and the only one I work for is my boss, Skippy, down at B3.”
Skippy used to solely own the B3 bar, which stands for Beer, Bikes, and Babes, but then about ten years ago or so, his wife and daughter were in a nasty car accident. They ended up with more medical bills than they could handle. So much so that they were looking to sell the bar. The Steel Archangel’s made him a deal. We’d buy out seventy-five percent of the bar and he’d keep twenty-five percent. However, at the time, our club was smaller, and we didn’t have the manpower to manage the bar, so the offer also included that he stay on as manager with a salary and benefits.
