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He drops the pieces back onto the floor in front of me and reaches for his zipper. “I’ll kill you all, one by one, and piss on your dead bodies.”
Watching in horror, he pulls out his dick and pisses on my ruined leather cut. The heavy patter of his urine is the only sound in the room. This act is the ultimate disrespect in our world, and even his own men seem shocked.
“Your turn,” he tells the man behind him. Alan. The one Boo is most afraid of.
I struggle to break free as he too steps forward and pisses on the soggy remnants of my cut. I glare at him, hatred boiling in my gut.
One by one, the Screwballs take turns holding me as they step forward to repeat the deed on the disfigured Black Hoods patch, until the only one left is a scrawny guy with greasy hair and a missing front tooth.
Alan smirks. “You’re up, Nutsy.”
Nutsy reaches for his zipper, but instead of pulling out his dick, he drops his pants to his knees and squats over the piss pile.
“Fucking gross,” somebody mutters through a laugh.
I see red as the greasy fuck winks up at me and proceeds to shit directly onto my cut. A couple of the guys gag and step out of the cell while the others chuckle, their amused gazes focused on me.
As Nutsy yanks his pants back up, Big Dick steps forward, his evil grin filled with triumph. “I’m going to end the Black Hoods. And when I’m done, Cora and Harrison will be with me, whether that bitch wants it or not.”
I have no words. I look past him to the disgusting pile of human waste on the floor, the pain in my body long forgotten.
“Chain him back up,” he barks, nodding to the guys behind me.
I don’t bother struggling as they chain my wrists and ankles to the bonds I was in before. I can’t believe any of this is actually fucking happening.
“I’ll be back,” Big Dick warns, already moving toward the door. “If you don’t want to end up like your cut, you’ll tell me where your clubhouse is and how I can get my kid.”
“Fuck you,” I sneer, my rage thrumming through my body like electricity.
Big Dick cackles, waiting for the room to clear so we’re the only ones left.
“Sweet dreams, Preacher.”
And with that, he closes the door, leaving me chained and immobile, with the smell of shit clogging my nostrils, and what was left of any hope I was hanging on to.
BOO
“Did you try to contact Judge?”Priest asks as soon as I approach the cell with his morning gruel. It’s early, and most of the club is still sleeping off last night’s bender. He stands and moves closer, his voice low and urgent. “Did you?”
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, peering over my shoulder to make sure I wasn’t followed. “I haven’t been able to find a phone.”
Priest’s disappointment is written all over his face. The swelling is a bit less today. His dark facial hair is more defined along his jawline, no longer hidden away by blood and bruises.
“Keep trying,” he pleads.
I place the tray on the floor and slide it inside. “What do they want with you anyway?”
“They want a kid,” he replies, sounding defeated.
“Big Dick’s kid,” I say. I’d heard them talking about the boy. “Why did your club take his kid?” Was his club like the Screwballs, trafficking kids instead of stolen women?
“We didn’t.” He drops back down onto the cot. “One of my brothers met the kid’s mom back in Sturgis, and they’re together. Big Dick assaulted her years ago, and the kid was the result. He wasn’t supposed to know about him.”
“Oh,” I mutter, my stomach churning less than it was before. They’re protecting the boy. That’s a good sign. If I can get us out of here, maybe they’ll be able to protect me too.
“We’re not like them, Boo. Far from it. My club takes out fuckers like the Screwballs.” His tone is reassuring, but when so many people let you down, it’s hard to extend that olive branch of trust again.
A noise comes from the hallway. I whip my head around, sure that Alan will be standing there. We both watch in silence, but no one comes through the door.
