She smiles, and I return it. “Stop looking at me like that,” she mutters while shaking her head.
“Like what?” I ask her, the smile not leaving.
“Like you’re picturing me naked again.”
My eyes roam over her from top to bottom.
“You are.”
“I am,” I confirm. “I mean, if you wish to lift that dress a bit, it would be very helpful.”
“Fuck off.” She turns to head back inside but stops at the door. “Goodnight, Blaze.”
“Goodnight, Katarina.”“You haven’t answered any calls,” Snow says the minute I get back to the clubhouse. They’re all on their bikes.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, pulling my vest from my bike bag and putting it on. I don’t always ride with it on, especially when I’m by myself, as it can cause trouble.
“They have Andy.” One of our prospects.
“Fuck!”
Snow hands me my gun and gets back on his bike. “I was about to come find you,” he says, eyeing me up and down.
“When did it happen?”
“We heard a few hours ago. It’s all we know because he was late back, and he’s never late. It was his turn to do the alcohol,” Snow says, referring to our parties. Each prospect has jobs, and tonight’s party was Andy’s to collect and set us all up.
“Okay, let’s go.” Sliding my helmet back on, we ride. The roads are empty. We pass the strip club, which is closed due to how late it is, and as soon as we enter their side of town, I know tonight is going to go straight to hell. It started off well, and I figured I would pass out with the taste of her on my lips, but no such damn luck.
Lights flash brightly as we near their compound. A few of them are ready for us and are standing out the front, barring us from gaining entry.
“Where’s Cane?” I ask the gatekeeper. He looks at me and doesn’t say a word. “Last chance, where’s Cane?”
“Blaze,” Snow warns, he knows this could be a blood bath. This could end so very badly. But he’s been fucking with me for way too long.
“Tell him to meet me in an hour at the strip club, and to bring my prospect, or I will rain fucking bullets through your heads.” I put my helmet back on and ride off. We don’t go as far as the club. Instead, we find a spot that’s covered in darkness, no street lights to penetrate the gloom, and pull the bikes off to the side. Reaching into my bike bag, I pull out a black hoody and pull it on. Snow does the same as do a few others, Marley included.
I turn to address the rest of the group. “If they come near, don’t ask questions, just shoot.”
They all nod as we start our trek back to their compound. It takes a total of fifteen minutes walking through bushland, and that’s when we see them. The two guards are still out the front, and music is blaring from the inside. We manage to bypass the guards while they talk and have a cigarette.
Snow goes to the left with one of the guys, and Marley and I go right. Walking around their building, the music is loud, and I see they have no interest in meeting with us at all. Looking through the first window, I see a guy’s ass as he has a woman bent over, slamming inside of her with a beer in one hand, which he brings to his lips while he continues to fuck her. Stepping away, I go to the front, slowly creeping along the wall, making sure no one is there to see me as I reach the door that leads inside the building. Grabbing a chair, I put it under the handle and continue farther along.
Shouts are heard and I freeze on the spot, looking back to Marley, who shrugs and points to another small shed. We make our way toward it. It has no windows, and the shouts don’t stop, even when we reach the front of it. I put my ear to it to make sure no one is inside, but we won’t really know until we open the door. It’s a risk, but if our prospect’s in there, I need to get him out.
“Go,” Marley says, holding up his gun while looking around. I manage to fling the door open quietly, but it is dark inside.
Damn! There’s no one in here.
Then, very softly, I hear a whimper. I grab my phone, turning on the flashlight, and I see him tied to a chair, his mouth’s bound, and his eyes are wide as he stares at us.
“Andy,” I say, stepping in.
Marley follows and shuts the door, making the room go dark apart from my light.
Reaching for my knife, I untie him, and Andy barely manages to stand. “What did they do?” He lifts his shirt, and I see the slashes marring his body. My body tightens at the thought. The same thing happened to Marcus—scars now line his body from the wounds he suffered—but his were from our mother. I remember cleaning them when he slept to keep the pain at a minimum.