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“This one’s mine,” Talon said.
The room went still.
Brick studied his brother. “Once you do this, you can’t take it back,” Brick said, wearing serious like Gate had never seen.
Talon nodded, “I’m gonna give that woman all kinds of happy, but I can’t begin to get started until I get her daughter back. And my best chance of doing that and bringing us through whole is finding out what we’re up against and which bastard is pulling the strings.”
“Talon….” Gate started.
But Deuce got there first, “You want something, you do whatever you have to do to get it. And that something is something you need, then, brother, you move heaven and earth for it.”
And even though the brother’s words were for Talon, Gate caught the look Deuce threw his way, but before he could ask what that look meant, Brick snapped to with a five gallon bucket of water over Reaper’s head.
The man came to, sputtering. “What thefuck?”
“Well, he’s awake now,” Gate muttered.
“You cocksuckers are gonna regret this,” Reaper said, glazed eyes pinballing around the room.
“Because you think Spider gives a shit about you?” Gate smirked.
“Wait and see, asshole,” Reaper shot back.
Talon reached for the brass knuckles Brick had laid out on the table, “I’ll let you know when I get tired.”
Ryder leaned his back against the closed door.
Deuce kept his place against the wall, hooded eyes watching Talon’s every move.
Brick pushed up and sat on the table, booted feet propped on the concrete floor.
“How many of Spider’s men are guarding the shack?” Talon asked, stretching his fingers into the metal.
Reaper’s face registered a surprise he didn’t bother to smooth over. “I ain’t telling you shit,” he said, jerking against his restraints hard enough to tear skin.
“Not asking hard questions. Just wanna know what we’re walking into,” Talon said.
Reaper clamped his jaw and glared.
“Who’s behind getting the girls to Hardeeville?” Talon went on, his movements around Reaper’s chair a testament to the skill he’d shown on the football field years earlier.
Gate straightened but held his silence.
“Fuckyou,” Reaper spat.
The first punch, blood sprayed across Brick’s boots. The third, bone snapped. By the fifth, ribs were broken and teeth knocked out.
When Reaper was finally ready to talk, one eyelid dangled and he was pissing blood.
He tried to blink and failed, “If I tell you, he’s gonna kill me.”
“This shit ain’t getting any easier,” Talon said. He shook out his shoulder and leaned in, “Tell me what I wanna know, I’ll make it fast.”
Gate couldn’t hear what Reaper whispered next, but Talon stepped back, pulled a nine from the back of his jeans, and shot Reaper dead center between the eyes.
Chapter Twenty-Three
You Know What You’ve Got on Your Bike
