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His eyes are cold and dead. There’s literally no life in them as he glares in my direction.
“My death is on your hands,” he says, trying to upset me.
“No, it’s on yours. You’re the one who came after me and did what you did years ago to another ol’ lady of the club. Karma’s a bitch and you’re about to get what you deserve,” I tell him with a smile on my face.
The guys lead him from the gas station and Goose follows them out. It’s not long before Goose returns to let me know Ricochet is on his way here so he can take Goose’s spot here. Goose deserves to be part of the retribution the motherfucker feels and I hope he feels every single second of pain and vengeance the club dishes out. For now, I’m just gonna focus on work and doing the job I’m paid to do. The guys can worry about everything else.
Chapter Six
Wicked
STEEL AND I have the stupid bitch Claw in the back of his truck. We weren’t about to put the dirty piece of shit in the cab of the truck with us so that’s our compromise. Plus, after what he said to my wife, I don’t want to wait for a van or anything else to come get him. We need to get him back to the clubhouse and away from Quinn. She doesn’t need the bullshit he brought to her with everything she’s just been through. The stupid fuck is in for a world of pain to be inflicted on him and he has no fucking clue. As we were bringing him out to my truck, he kept running his fucking mouth. Not just about Quinn and making her car explode, but about Sami too. Goose is livid and wants to get his pound of flesh for his own woman. I can’t blame him one bit because this fucker has no morals when it comes to going after women and kids. He’s nothing more than a fucking scumbag who thinks he can do and say anything he wants. That’s not the case and it’s a lesson he’s about to learn the hard way.
“I want my hits on him,” Steel tells me as we pull into the parking lot of the clubhouse.
“No one’s gonna take that shit from you, Steel. Brick will want his own pound of flesh too. Goose and I are obviously gonna get our hands dirty. The shit this pussy has said and done is horrible and he’ll pay through us for all of his victims. Not just our ol’ ladies, but for every fuckin’ person he’s ever hurt in any manner,” I say, venom filling my voice at the thought of what this stupid fuck likes to do.
Claw is still in the skin trade and we know he’s got help. This isn’t something he can do on his own because he’s not fucking smart enough to do it. Working with the kinds of people in the skin trade means you have to be smarter than they are and to be able to come up with plans on the fly. Claw isn’t able to do that shit. Walking into the Pit Stop today shows us just how truly idiotic he is. Anyone who knows anything about our club knows there’s typically at least a Prospect there at all times when the store is open. My wife is there and she’ll always be protected. There are also other women who work in the store. We’re not about to leave them to their own devices in case some asswipe comes in to rob the store, attack them, or anything else. That’s not how we operate.
Pulling out my phone, I send a message to the guys letting them know we’re here and pulling up out behind the clubhouse. This allows us to bring the piece of shit in without the women and kids seeing him for any reason. We don’t want him to taint them with his filth or know what’s going on. It’s one of the many ways we protect them from club business because they don’t need to know this shit. This is the dirtier side of the club we’ll always protect them from.
With the message sent, Steel parks his truck at the door and we wait for them to open it up for us. Getting out of the truck, we make our way to the back to find Claw curled up in pain. Steel drove like a bat out of hell and didn’t take the turns gently at all. I’m sure Claw hit the sides and anything else in the bed of the truck because we didn’t make sure he was tied down properly. Oh well. It just means he’s a little banged up before we start to do anything to him. Maybe he’ll realize how serious we are about making sure he fucking gives us the information we want before we take his life. Claw will not be walking out of here tonight. He’ll be buried in a deep grave to rot like the fucking shit he is.
The door finally starts to open and we find every club member who’s not at work today standing there with their arms folded over their chest. Brick is at the very front of the group as he looks at us with a smirk on his face. Yeah, we’re about to wipe that smirk away for good. Once he learns what was said to his sister, we all know he’s gonna lose his shit. Brick has a temper and it’s not always controllable where his loved ones are concerned. He’ll let himself black out if it means he gets the revenge for whoever has been hurt.
“Time to get our hands dirty, boys!” Brick calls out, happiness filling his voice as Steel and I drag Claw from the bed of the truck.
We let him hit the ground with a thud and grunt of pain because he has no way to stop his fall with his hands tied behind his back. Brick makes his way over and picks the fucker up off the ground as if he weighs nothing at all. The rest of us follow behind him as he takes us into the torture room. We all hang our cuts up so they don’t get this ass clown’s blood on them and we make our way inside the room while Brick ties the fucker up by his hands. I cringe as I listen to at least one of his shoulders coming out of the socket causing him to scream out in pain.
“This is only gonna get worse, fucker,” Brick assures him as he lifts him just high enough in the air for his toes to barely scrape against the cement floor beneath him.
“I didn’t do a fuckin’ thing,” Claw cries out in pain.
“You didn’t? This means you didn’t go into the Pit Stop today and taunt my wife? I believe you told her you were expectin’ her to still be in the hospital and somethin’ about losin’ the baby. Our baby. How is that not doin’ anythin’?” I ask Claw while keeping my eyes on Brick.
Brick’s face goes from one shade of red to a deeper one. By the time it stops changing colors, his face is almost purple he’s so fucking pissed. He gets up in Claw’s face and speaks so low to him none of us can hear a word he says. By the time he’s done, Claw is whimpering like the bitch he is and tears are rolling down his face. I’d laugh, but I know he’s still not going to be easy to crack.
“So, who the fuck are you workin’ with?” I ask him once Brick steps back a few feet.
Claw doesn’t say anything as he stares me down with dead eyes. His lips thin out and he doesn’t move a muscle despite Brick still being so close to him.
“You can go in and talk shit to my sister, but when it comes to this you have nothin’ to say? What the fuck is your problem?” Brick barks out, moving closer once again to the stupid fuck. “Answer my brother-in-law’s question. Now!”
“I don’t have to tell you shit. We’ve played this game before. Haven’t we boys? I believe I had Sami when we played together the last time,” he says, wanting to make Goose lose his cool and go off on him.
Claw is trying to make sure his death is quick and as painless as possible. He doesn’t know that we’ll all hold Goose back so that shit doesn’t happen. We plan on prolonging this shit as long as possible. Even if it means waking his ass up multiple times and ensuring he feels every ounce of pain we dish out. This fucker isn’t going to go out like a pussy as he hopes.
“Who the fuck are you workin’ for?” Goose asks while walking up to the tray to grab a pair of pliers.
Claw still doesn’t open his mouth to respond. We watch on as Goose slowly rips every single one of his fingernails out. Claw tries so hard not to scream out in pain but we all know he’s feeling it. His body is now covered in sweat and he’s shaking. It all gets worse as each nail gets removed from his fingers. When all ten are gone, the Prospect down here with us removes his shoes and Goose gets started on those nails. Claw tries to kick him, but Goose is too fucking fast. Not to mention Brick is still too close to let him get away with anything like that. My brother-in-law holds him still so Goose can do his worst to the fucker.
“Ready to answer yet?” I ask him as Goose sets the pliers down on the tray and grabs one of the rustier knives we have laying there.
Crouching down again, Brick holds his feet up one at a time for Goose to slice them up as much as he can. Claw can’t contain his pain this time. He yells and screams out for it to stop while thrashing about against Brick and the restraints holding him in place.
“It will stop once you tell us what we want to know,” I inform him while knowing this isn’t gonna stop at all.
“What do you wanna know?” he calls out, his voice full of pain.
