Blood & Bones: Sig (Blood Fury MC 2)

Trip rubbed a hand across his mouth. “You think...”

“Fuck yeah. No doubt, Trip.”

“Those fuckers gonna come lookin’ for her? ‘Specially her bein’ pregnant like that? Think it’s one of theirs?”

“Yeah. Thinkin’ it is and, right now, kinda hopin’ they do.”

“They do what? Come the fuck down here and try to get her back? Yeah, that’s what we need, to keep makin’ enemies. No,” Trip held up a hand. “You’re makin’ us enemies all on your own. First the Amish, now the Shirleys, next you’ll be havin’ the pigs breathin’ down our goddamn necks by harborin’ some knocked up woman who does not belong to us. They’ll be pissed we didn’t report whatever the fuck happened to her right away. We need to keep shit smooth with them, too, Sig. Let’s not fuckin’ forget that. She tell you what happened to her? Why she’s skinny, knocked up and on the run?”

“Nope. Got a good fuckin’ guess, though.”

Sig reached for the Wild Turkey again, but Trip snagged it first. “Gimme a glass.”

Sig grabbed a glass from the shelf, set it on the bar, and Trip poured them both a healthy amount of whiskey. His brother stared at his for a long time before knocking it back. When he was done, he slammed the glass on the bar and said, “She’s their property.”

Normally, he’d say yeah, but... “Nope. Think they stole her from somewhere else. You see her shredded nails and those bruises? She was fightin’ to get free.”

Trip’s eyes and expression went dark. “Then they kidnapped her and...”

“Yeah.”

“For that baby?”

“Thinkin’ so.”

“Sick inbred motherfuckers,” Trip barked, then poured himself another couple of fingers worth of the cheap whiskey. “Fuck,” he muttered, scraping a hand down his beard. Then he shouted, “Fuck!” to the ceiling.

“Yeah,” Sig breathed through the whiskey fumes.

“She shouldn’t be here.”

“Yeah.” He wasn’t going to argue that fact.

“Someone stole our property, we’d be out for blood.”

“Yeah. Finders keepers, though, right? They stole her from wherever, we’re stealin’ her from them.”

“Are you fuckin’ crazy?” Trip bellowed. “You are goddamn crazy.”

“Know you don’t wanna hear this, brother, but we’re figurin’ this shit out. Not gettin’ the pigs involved. We’re handlin’ this. ‘Cause we’re gonna handle it right.”

Trip squeezed his eyes shut and bit off a “Christ.” He opened those brown eyes the same exact shade as Sig’s. “Chief ain’t gonna like it, us not givin’ him a head’s up if he catches wind.”

“If he catches wind. But don’t really give a fuck what the pigs like or don’t goddamn like. They’ve known about these inbred mountain motherfuckers forever. What have they done about ‘em?”

“Can’t do nothin’ if they don’t break the law.”

Sig didn’t need to remind him that they broke the fucking law when he went up there to repo a car and the tow truck got all shot the fuck up. But there were plenty of other laws that clan broke. Those pussy motherfuckers just didn’t want to deal with them.

“Fuckin’ makin’ meth and moonshine up there, Trip, and rapin’ women. My guess? Maybe even usin’ them for breedin’ for fresh blood so all their babies don’t turn out cross-eyed and three-legged.” Damn toothless, banjo-playing, hillbilly, mountain goat fuckers.

Sig’s blood was starting to scream through his veins at the thought of what might have happened to Red up there. And he wanted to know every goddamn thing. Because they were going to pay for every single one of those things.

“Yeah, can’t imagine too many women voluntarily join their clan.”

“Yeah, and you can only breed so much with your sister, mother and daughter.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Trip muttered. “She’s carryin’ one of their babies, they’ll want her back. Or at least the kid once it’s born. Doubt they’re gonna stop until they get one or both.” Trip took another deep breath.

He wasn’t the only one struggling with all this. Sig was having a hard time wrapping his head around someone who’d use another person just for breeding. In his lifetime, he’d met the dregs of the fucking Earth. So, he shouldn’t be surprised.

Human trafficking was a real thing. And, for fuck’s sake, he wouldn’t be surprised if Red got caught up in something like that. Not willingly, of course. With the way she looked, there was no fucking way she volunteered for any of that shit.

And because of that, all those bastards on that mountain needed to die. Slowly, too. But that was something that would take a hell of a lot of planning. And right now, they didn’t know the whole story yet. Sig was only making assumptions with what he saw and also Red’s condition.

“Think there’s more women up there bein’ held against their will?”

Sig stared at his brother. “Dunno. She was naked, Trip. Fuckin’ naked, running down the fuckin’ mountain, bruised up and in a fuckin’ panic. I caught her, told her I would help her and she still fought me, that’s how out of her mind she was. She didn’t ask me for help, had to force her to take it. That’s not right.” He tapped his temple. Something wasn’t right upstairs with Red. But that shouldn’t be surprising. If she had been locked up and used like he suspected, then that could break anyone’s sanity. “She’s skin and bones and I got no idea how that kid in her belly’s still survivin’.” Especially after the tumble she took when he was chasing her. Or the hits she took to get those bruises.