Screw (Hell's Handlers MC 8)
Nowhere to go.
No one to save her.
Helpless to stop him.
Her heart pounded, increasing the gush of blood from her scalp.
Paul bent over her and grabbed the front of her shirt. She tried slapping his hands away, but only managed to nick her forearms on the sharp blade. With her hand and arms numb, she barely felt the knife slice her skin. But more blood ran from her body.
As she struggled and whimpered, Paul slipped the knife under her shirt, sawing through the fabric. Once he’d gotten halfway up her torso, he gripped the fabric and tore it straight in half.
“It’ll be better soon, Jazz. It’ll be all over soon.”
He grabbed her flailing arms and lifted them above her head. One hand held her wrists anchored to the wall while the other brandished the knife.
“N-no.” She tried to yell but it came out as a whimpered plea. Cold sweat broke out all over her body. “P-please, d-don’t do this.”
He pressed the knife to her sternum. Right between her breasts. He stared straight at her, a maniacal grin matching the bloodlust in his gaze.
She flattened her back against the wall. Anything to get even a millimeter of space between them.
The tip of the blade bit into her skin. Paul slowly dragged his arm downward.
Jazz screamed as the hot slice of burning pain made her vision blur.
“It’s working Jazz! It’s going to work this time,” Paul shouted with a wide grin and gleeful tone. “Can you feel it?”
He dug the knife into her side. Not deep enough to sink beneath her skin. But enough to have her screaming again.
There was only one devil in the room, and it wasn’t inside of her.
MOST OF THE patched members of the MC waited with him and Gumby in the clubhouse in various stages of grief. Some railed at the universe and promised violent retribution against any and every member of the CDMC. Some sat in silence, lost in their anguish. Others moved about, pacing with a restless agitation. Copper sat in his office, no doubt mentally beating the fuck outta himself.
Shell could have been in that diner just as easily as Jazz. And to top it off, Copper had lost one of his closest friends today. And they’d all lost a brother. Screw rubbed a hand over the ache in his chest. It wouldn’t be going away anytime soon.
Gumby checked his phone every two minutes or so even though the volume was cranked as high as it would go. Every few moments, he’d run a hand up Screw’s thigh, giving a little squeeze before settling but not severing the connection. That touch, the tiny link to Gumby was the only thing keeping him from flying into a million pieces.
After what was only an hour but felt like an eternity, Gumby’s phone buzzed.
Screw’s heart rate skyrocketed as he watched his lover flick the screen open. “Jesus, he’s fucking good,” Gumby whispered before jumping to his feet.
He shot up as well, grabbing Gumby’s shoulders. “What? What the fuck did he find?”
Gumby lifted his head, meeting Screw’s gaze, and the deadly grin he wore had Screw’s veins icing over. His lover was out for blood.
“Paul is at an Air BNB about ten miles from here. He’s driving a rental car. I got the address and the plates.”
“Holy shit,” Screw said on an exhale. “How the fuck did he get that so fast?” He’d have kissed the computer genius if he was there.
“Does it fucking matter?”
“No.” Screw kissed Gumby hard on the mouth. “Good fucking work. Come on, let’s go get our girl.” And they would. And she’d be whole.
He refused to allow his mind to entertain any other possibility.
His stomach on the other hand, churned with the knowledge they might be too late.
After arming themselves in record time, Screw, Gumby, Rocket, LJ, Maverick, Jigsaw, and a few others busted ass to get to the Air BNB while Copper and Zach led a group to the diner.
In order to function, to keep his head clear and sharp instead of spiraling down in a pit of despair, Screw had no choice but to force thoughts of Viper from his mind. He couldn’t let the immense loss or the worry over how this would destroy Cassie worm their way in. If he did, he’d crumble and right then he needed to be strong as fuck to get his woman back.
“What’s the plan?” he asked Rocket.
Yes, he was the enforcer, but this kind of operation needed to be run by someone who wasn’t in love with the hostage.
“This guy’s an amateur,” Rocket said as he navigated around a slow-moving vehicle on the one lane mountain road. He didn’t slow as he took a sharp curve, causing Screw to scramble for the oh-shit handle. A glance over his shoulder showed Gumby did the same. With his jaw tight, and eyes focused on Rocket, Gumby seemed as eager for blood as he felt.