Hank's eyes are so wide that I have no choice but to swallow back the fear creeping along my spine. I shouldn't have said that stuff about God, I knew it would anger him. I just hate when he brings God into his racist bullshit. My parents are religious, and Marine and I were often subjected to Hank's idea of what God wants from people. Meaning, he'd beat the hell out of us for the stupidest of things. Including speaking with none white people, boys before we were of marrying age, and even friends Hank thought might influence us to do what he deemed against his religion.
Marnie would fight back, and she'd always quote the bible back to Hank. Never did she believe God would want us to hate anyone at all. Marnie would yell how God teaches us to love and give love as we'd want to be loved. Of course, this would earn her the beatings from hell. However, she'd never back down; she'd simply keep those thoughts in her head and hold on tight.
I'm not like my sister; I never stuck up for myself the way she did. I channeled her here today with what I said, but it backfired like I knew it would. That's why I don't scream when Hank drags me out of the chair by my long hair. I don't scream when he throws me to the ground, and I try so hard not to cry when he brings his belt down on my back again and again.
However, I fail when he rips my shirt from my body and then continues to beat me with that belt. I try fighting back, believe me, I try so hard. I don't want to die here, and I don't want Hank to think I'm weak. I hit out at him. I grab his ankle and manage to pull hard enough for him to fall. I try to get to my feet and run, but I feel so physically weak, so weak that I'm not quick enough.
Hank is on top of me, beating me, his fists in my face over and over again. I try so hard to shield my face from his blows, but it's hard when he's pinning me down with his legs. Right at this moment, I feel like I'm dying. I'm fighting as hard as I can to get him off of me. He's straddling my chest, and the weight of him is crushing me. I can't breathe. I'm losing my fight to stay in the light.
“You vile whore! I'll make you sorry you ever crossed me!” I gag for breath as he chokes me, my eyes are bulging, the pressure rising in my head and eyes. Just as I can feel myself losing consciousness, Hank let's go and climbs off of me.
I don't know if he thinks he's killed me, but I'm not quite out. I keep my eyes closed anyway. One: because I don't want him to keep hurting me. Two: my eyes are actually too heavy to open.
I don't know; maybe I am dead, but then I can't be because I can hear Hank talking to himself. Maybe to someone else, I can't be sure.
“I don't fuckin' know! She made me do it! She got mouthy, sprouting shit about God like she had the right!” Definitely someone else, but I can't hear anyone else's voice. “I need you to get the hell over here, Jud,” His brother, my uncle. Just as vile, just as racist. “Help me get rid of the body before Molly gets home!” My mom. What the hell is he going to tell her? Someone is bound to tell her that I'm missing. Is Hank just going to lie to her?
“That dumb club will get the blame. Everyone knows Brooke ran off to be with the filthy black son-of-a-bitch. If anyone ever finds her body and they come callin', we ain't seen her.”
Hank is so dumb; there were witnesses to him dragging me away with him. Does he honestly think someone won't come forward?
“She was no daughter of mine! She was a monkey loving whore! Are you gonna help me, or not?”
I don't hear any more talking, I do hear a loud, sarcastic laugh before my whole world goes dark, though...
Chapter Twenty-Six
Hawk
All morning, I've been in a meeting with the Snakes, talking through what we do about Hank Webster. It was a no brainer. We need to kill the motherfucker. Shepard warned me that taking Webster out wouldn't be the end of it; his sons would for sure come looking for answers. If they come looking, they could cause problems we don't need.
Red came up the plan to take Webster out, but to make it look like he accidentally shot himself. It's not so hard to engineer if you know how. It wouldn't be Red's first rodeo at something like that. All we needed to do was find out where his sons would be over the next twenty-four hours. Trace worked his magic and found out three of them are out of town, which just left Webster's two youngest sons. We could deal with them easily.
What I didn't expect was for my mom to call my dad in tears, scared, and not knowing what to do. Hank Webster had followed Brooke and forced her to go with him. He'd threatened to kill my mom and Gabe if Brooke didn't go with him.
It didn't take me long to track down the racist old cunt. Old fuck is predictable; he went right back to his shitty rundown farm. I remember the place, big ranch-style house that seems weather-worn, and could do with a lick of paint, and a few nails here and there wouldn't go amiss. There's a massive barn on the left of the property. Fuck knows what's in there, but it needs knocking down.
My dad called Shepard, who then brought along Stryker, Tank, Jett, Hammer, Ice, Lion, Roman, Kong, and few others to help. I don't see as it needs twelve people, but I won't risk losing Brooke. Hank Webster is unpredictable with his temper, and he wouldn't think twice about killing his own daughter.
The sick churning in my stomach hasn't left me since the moment Dad took the call from Mom. My poor mother thinks she did something wrong. She didn't, and I don't blame her for what happened. I know Brooke better than anyone, and I know what she did was all her. She wanted our son safe, and there was no way she'd let my mother get hurt either. She saved them.
I'm scared for her. Hank had over half an hour head start on me, fuck knows how bad this will be. I dread to think what he's already done to Brooke. Somewhere inside of me, I know she's fought back. I know she won't give up.
Shepard told us not to antagonize Webster. Just get in there, get Brooke, get out. This isn't like when Cindy was taken; this isn't another club; this is the girl's father. Shepard doesn't believe Webster will kill Brooke, I think otherwise.
I know my girl. If that prick says anything about me, no matter how scared she might be, she'll stand up for me, for Gabe, for all of us. She'll want to protect our unborn child, the child, but she'll do whatever it takes to show that bastard that he can't push us around.
We parked the bikes and the truck, which Lion was driving, just in case we needed to get Brooke to a hospital – you never can be too careful – at the end of the driveway. Hoping Webster wouldn't hear the rumble of the motorcycle. We didn't want to spook him into doing something stupid, like, shoot Brooke.
“Listen to me,” I don't want to listen to Shepard, I need to get to Brooke! We can all hear Hank Webster mumbling to himself on the other side of this wooden barn wall. I just want to get in there already! “Nobody is to go storming in there; he could have a gun. The old fuck is insane, and we all know he won't even think twice about shooting any one of us. That includes Brooke.”
He's right; I don't doubt that one little bit.
“You three,” Jett, Ice, and Hammer. “Go round the back and to the left. The rest of you follow me to...” He stops talking, eyes narrowed.
I narrow mine wondering what the hell he's doing, but then I hear it, loud and clear. Hank Webster is talking to someone. I'm guessing on the phone because there are no other voices to be heard. Then I hear the words shouted loud and clear, “Help me get rid of the body before Molly gets home!”
I stumble back, my dad catches my arm and steadies me. He killed her. Hank Webster killed my Brooke, his own daughter!
Someone grabs me and stops me from falling. I can't se
em to make my hearing work. I can't even see straight. I need to get in there, and no one is stopping me!
I charge the barn, men following me, heavy footfalls echo in my ears. Nothing I do in the future will ever clear my mind of the sight before me. Hank Webster dragging my battered, bruised and bloodied fiancée's body, by her arms above her head, to where he's laid out tarpaulin. He's going to wrap her body up and dispose of it like she was never anything to anybody.
“You son of a bitch!” I scream the words as I rush towards him. However, I'm not fast enough. The old fuck drops Brooke and pulls a shotgun on me.
He smirks. He knows I'm not stupid enough to take one more step. I'm not giving this asshole the chance to blow a damn hole right through me. “I should have known it wouldn't take long before you and your monkey loving friends found us.”
I fold my arms around my chest. He so unoriginal with his insults it's boring. I hear my father growl behind me. I know he and everyone else with him have their guns drawn. “There's no way out of this for you, old man. You will die here today.”
He steps over Brooke's body like she's nothing, and rushes toward me. I drop my arms, and he presses both barrels into my chest. I look down at the gun, then up to his face. Every one of my brothers cocks his gun in place. Webster may kill me, but I'll take this bastard with me.
“Put the gun down, you stupid old fuck!”
“Fuck you! You think I'm just gonna stand here and wait for you fuckers to pump me full of led? I'll take the ape with me first!”
BlackJack moves forward, Hank's finger plays on the trigger. Just one slip and my son becomes an orphan. I can't risk that. I may have lost Brooke and our unborn son, but I won't allow Gabe to grow up without both of us. He's half Brooke, the only part of her that I have left. I won't leave my boy alone.
I hold my hand up to those around me, stopping them from doing anything other than stand there. Webster's eyes are all over the place. He knows he's cornered. He knows as well as I do that Jett, Hammer, and Ice are right behind him with guns drawn. He has no way out of this place. He will die here today.