He shoved her and she fell backward. Not able to catch herself since her hands were bound behind her back, she landed on her ass. While she was down, he threw her husband’s bloody dick and balls into her lap.
“My brother learned a hard lesson once about not puttin’ his hands on a woman in anger. I watched that fuckin’ lesson and never forgot it. But you ain’t a woman. You’re a piece of fuckin’ shit that should be grateful you’re still breathin’. Because if it was up to me, you wouldn’t be.” He spat once more on her face, wiped his mouth and strode away.
He paused in front of Deacon, whose expression he couldn’t read. But the man had done what Sig asked once already, so he was pretty sure the man would do it again. “Take those cords and tie her down to that bench on top of her uncle-husband. Let ‘er think about the shit she’s done. Make sure she’s naked when you do it. Take her clothes away like she took Red’s.” Without waiting for Deke’s answer, he stopped in front of Trip. “Make sure that’s done. Headin’ to the hospital.” As he spun on his heel to head back down that mountain—one he hoped to fuck he never saw again—his brother grabbed his arm, stopping him.
Sig stared down at the hand keeping him from getting to Red.
“Need to clean up, brother. Can’t go in there lookin’ like that. It’ll raise a fuckload of red flags.”
Sig’s nostrils flared but he nodded after he took a glance down at himself. He was covered with blood and dirt. Trip was right. He needed to go to Red without the Shirley filth covering him.
“Need a ride back to the farm and my sled.”
“Rev and Whip both have their cages parked at the bottom. I’ll get one of them to take you back while we finish up and get outta here without all gettin’ shot in the fuckin’ backs.” Trip pulled his cell out of his cut and texted one of them. And after he did so, his brother lifted his head and held Sig’s eyes for the longest time.
Sig didn’t like seeing what he saw in them.
But he got it.
He fucking got it.
Trip and him had gotten the demon inside them honestly.
“Let us know if you want us all at the hospital. Up to you. Up to Red. Stella and Dodge are stayin’ at least ‘til you get there.”
Sig inhaled the night air, trying to settle his roaring blood. But that air stunk.
It stunk really fucking bad right now.
He needed to get the fuck off that mountain and get to Red. That’s what he needed to focus on right now. Not about what he’d done and what he still wanted to do.
Red needed him.
He needed her.
And he hoped to fuck she’d forgive him for letting the Shirleys steal her away.
He’d pay whatever price for that she wanted from him.
Whatever Red wanted, Red would get.
Even if it was a pound of flesh. Even if it was a ton.
His brother kept talking even though Sig was so done with it all. “Even in the dark, can see the tendons in your neck and jaw still poppin’ and the veins at your temple poundin’. After Autumn’s done at the hospital and everythin’s under control there, gonna need to have a discussion.”
He wouldn’t disagree with it because Trip was right. They did. “Yeah,” he muttered. “Need to have a discussion.”
The temporary gig with the club might be over sooner than expected. It was what it was and, if necessary, as soon as Red was good to go, so was he.
Sig was reading Stella’s last text to him as the elevator doors whooshed open. The one where she told him to hurry.
Her previous texts had given him Red’s room number at the New Beginnings Birthing Center that was attached to the hospital. This was after she had been checked out in the ER while waiting for Dr. Carly to show up.
As he stepped off the elevator, he lifted his head in time to see the doc’s husband, Matt Bryson, heading his way like a freight train, his face holding a whole bunch of unhappy.
Oh fuck.
Sig braced as the pig in street clothes yanked him by his shirt and flung him into what looked like an empty waiting area.
Sig stumbled into one of the chairs and before he hit the floor, Bryson yanked him back to his feet with a fistful of cotton and got in his face. “No fucking wonder she doesn’t want this kid. You hurt her like that, what would you do to the fucking baby?”
Dodge, who had been slouched in a chair in the corner, jumped to his feet. “Yo, dude, it wasn’t him.”
Bryson ignored him, his icy blue eyes pinned on Sig. “Wasn’t you what? Who got her pregnant or beat her the fuck up?”