Blood & Bones: Whip (Blood Fury MC 11)

Fuckers.

Was that the van? Was it still there, waiting?

No, that wasn’t the Shirley van, it was the new crematorium van. The one they used when they needed to go incognito.

“Get the fuck in this van now!” Trip shouted, standing next to the open passenger door.

He yanked on the girl’s hand, since he still had a firm grip on it, and continued to run. Thank fuck she realized how much danger they were in and didn’t fight his forward motion.

Another distant blast shook the ground under their moving feet.

“Where the fuck is Scar?” Trip asked as he jumped into the passenger seat.

“We don’t got time for this. Let’s get the fuck outta here!” Judge yelled out the driver’s side window.

“Hurry up and get her in the van,” Trip ordered.

Whip pulled her around to the open side door. Since their van didn’t have seats in the rear like the Shirleys’, some of his brothers were sitting on the floor in the back.

From the interior, Shade reached out and grabbed the girl’s arm, helping her inside.

“Dead,” Whip answered as he climbed in, gulping down air, his lungs searing, his heart pounding a hole through his chest. Even though his muscles were cramping, he managed to drag himself inside the van without assistance.

“What the fuck you talkin’ about?” Judge asked, throwing the shifter into drive and stomping on the accelerator.

Dirt and stones kicked out from the rear wheels and Shade slammed the side door shut as Judge barreled down the rutted lane.

Whip raised a finger and shook his head, trying to catch his breath enough to speak easier and make sure he didn’t stutter. But before he could talk or get settled on the floor, Judge hit a hole so large, he was thrown across the van into Rev, who caught him. They both muttered a “Fuck!”

“A Shirley took him out? How?” Judge asked, glancing at him from the rearview mirror, not giving a fuck that Whip almost slammed his head into the side of the van.

Once he planted his ass on the floor, he held on as the van continued to bounce down the lane. He wouldn’t be surprised if they broke a damn axle. But if they did, they were screwed.

“What the fuck happened to your face?” Easy asked, staring at him. “It wasn’t like that when you went lookin’ for the prospect.”

Whip considered lying but what was the point? Scar was dead, he did it and he might as well own up to it. He swallowed and concentrated on his answer, hoping like fuck his stutter was finally gone. “The prospect happened.”

Trip spun around in the passenger seat. “Scar did that to you?”

“That and more.” What he wasn’t going to say right now in that van full of men was that Scar raped the girl. An underaged girl.

She’d already been through enough.

“Why the fuck would that motherfucker do that to you?” Rook asked. “He’s done.”

Whip shot Rook a loaded look, since he must have missed the part when Whip said the prospect was dead. “He’s done.”

Rook’s eyebrows rose. “You took him out?”

Whip nodded.

Shade’s dark eyes sliced from him to the girl and back. His nostrils flared but he said nothing.

The man knew. Shade could pick up on shit others couldn’t. The man’s jaw shifted and he gave Whip a slight nod. A silent way to let Whip know he had done the right thing.

Another blast rocked the van and Judge slammed on the brakes, almost throwing everyone in the back toward the front seats.

Suddenly the sliding side door was flung open by someone outside the van. Cage appeared. “You find number thirteen?”

“Yeah, she’s in here,” Trip told him. “Load her up so we can get the fuck outta here before the main compound blows. That’s gonna be so fuckin’ big it’ll be heard and seen in New York. We need to be long gone before then. If not, we might not be goin’ anywhere except for wherever our pieces land.”

“All right,” Cage said, leaning inside the cargo area and locating the girl. “Let’s go. The rest of your clan’s waitin’ for you.”

The girl grabbed Whip’s arm tightly. “I don’t want to go with them,” she said in a shaky whisper, her short nails digging painfully into his skin. He could also hear the panic in her words. “Please don’t make me go with them.”

“Get her in the van,” Trip ordered as he hopped out of the passenger seat. He appeared at the side door.

Whip stared at the girl’s pale face. Bloodless except for the bruises. No surprise she was scared as fuck, and she couldn’t be more than fourteen or fifteen. Scar’s actions would leave a lifetime scar of her own.

And who knew what the inbred goat fuckers had already done to her in their effort to increase their numbers.

Worse, here she was surrounded by a bunch of strange men who held her future in their hands.