“I’m going to find him and I’m going to kill him,” I growl at Quill, who’s outside in the waiting area with the boys. After Charity cried her heart out, and I promised that Blake was going to pay for this, she fell asleep, and I left her side with only one thing in mind—to make Blake pay for what he’s done.
“Did you find out any information from his friend?” When we left the compound to hurry to the hospital, Prez told Gunner to stay behind and find out where Blake was staying, by torturing his friend, who was left behind with a bullet in his shoulder, away from the eyes of the paramedics who had taken Charity.
“Yeah, man. They were staying at the inn on the highway.”
Checking I still have my gun tucked out of sight in the back of my jeans, I go to leave the room. Quill grabs my arm, though, keeping me there. “Trigg, man, cool off. You haven’t slept much, and you’re angry right now, you’ll do something stupid.”
I look down at my arm then up at Quill, giving him a warning look to back off. His hand releases my arm and he glares at me. “Trigg,” he pleads, his voice deep and gravelly.
“Don’t! I’m leaving. Don’t try and stop me.”
“Then we’re coming too,” he says on a sigh.
I shrug my shoulders. “Do what you have to, but like I said before, he’s mine, and only mine.”
Quill nods in understanding, then Jasmine comes running through the doors. “Is she okay? Please tell me she’s alive?”
She looks into my eyes, and I don’t know if it’s my body language or the fact that I have murder on my mind, but she steps back. “Quill? What’s going on?” she says, looking over my shoulder.
“Jazz, baby, call the girls and get them here to the hospital, we have something we need to do.”
I look at Quill and lift my chin in approval. Jasmine looks from me to Quill again and frowns. “Quill, baby, what’s going on?”
He leans in and kisses her on the forehead. “I’ll explain later. Stay here and keep an eye on Charity, her and Hazel need you right now.”
“Hazel? Where is she?”
“She’s just resting in room two-twenty,” Quill says, lifting his chin toward a door further down the corridor.
“Okay.”
“Gotta go, babe. I’ll call you.”
“Be careful, Quill,” Jasmine says, kissing him lightly on the lips. Then she turns to me. “You too, Trigger.”
I nod. “We ready?”
“Yeah,” Quill replies, and turns to the other guys. “Let’s ride.”
I ride like hell on speed to the inn, the boys behind me. Blake’s going to pay for what he did to Charity.
We spot the SUV parked in front of one of the motel’s room, and I push forward on the throttle and pull in to park beside it, not caring that we’ve made our presence known.
Quill and the others park next to me, and I look over at them. “Remember, he’s mine,” I remind them. They all nod, knowing they won’t be able to stop me.
The long line of our bikes surrounds the motel room, so Blake won’t be able to run anywhere. I stand and step off my bike and remove my gun from the back of my jeans. It’s 3:00 a.m. and the streets are silent.
Suddenly the motel room door is flung open, and I point my gun at it. Blake steps out, his own gun pointed at me. “Kane, man. Charity okay?” he asks, smirking at me.
“She’s alive, if that’s what you’re asking,” I growl, seething with white-hot anger. I know what he’s doing—he’s baiting me, and it’s working.
Blake’s smile is half-crazed. “Pity, that. You see, if I can’t have her, nobody can.”
This man is fucked-up. With the way he’s sniffling, and rubbing at his nose with his other hand, it makes me think that he’s on crack, or something else hard-core. He’s still wearing his blue jeans and black sweater, and he’s taller and more built than I remember, but that doesn’t stop me from wanting to kick the shit out of him.
“So… you’re here, and I’m here, both with guns pointing at one another. What’s next?”
Three of his “friends” step in behind him, and I throw my gun on the ground instinctively. “Fight me.”
His eyebrows lift and he smiles even wider. “Fight you? You gotta be fuckin’ kidding me.”
“Not kidding, give me that fight you never granted me.”
His grin is crazy now, and he looks behind him to his friends. “Do you believe this fucker? He wants to fight me. Me? I’m a fuckin’ champion, and he wants to fight me. Ha-ha.”
“What’s wrong, Reynolds? Scared I might win?”
His face straightens at my taunt, and he steps fully out of the doorway to the room, gun still pointed at me. “What makes you think I won’t shoot you here and now?”
“Because,” I say, “that will only prove that you’re a pussy, and everyone will know it then.” He just stands there and stares at me. “What’s wrong? Scared, are we?”
He smirks then and drops his gun onto the dirt-covered ground. I smile back at him, and the headlights of my brothers’ bikes switch on, surrounding us with light.
“You got this, Trigg,” I hear yelled out from behind me, but I don’t respond, too focused on what I’m going to do to this man when I get my hands on him.
Blake drops his gun as well, and lifts his sweater up and over his head, leaving him in a white V-neck T-shirt. Quill moves in and kicks away Blake’s gun.
“Fuck him up!” someone yells from behind him. Blake cracks his knuckles and neck and flashes that half-crazed grin at me. “Come on, De Luca, show me whatcha got.”
We circle each other, eyes not moving from the other. This is for Charity, and for her baby.
“How’s my baby, she still got it in her belly?” he sneers, like he’s just read my mind. I tighten my fists—I know what he’s doin’, and I won’t let him psych me out like that.
“Nah, you got your wish, fucker, and I’m gonna get mine,” I growl, stepping in and taking a jab. He ducks under me and jabs me in my ribs. I won’t lie, it fuckin’ hurts like a bitch, but I only crouch over for a brief moment, catching my breath, then stand, fists up to protect my face. Just like I used to in the ring.
“Seems you’ve lost your touch, De Luca.”
Grinding my teeth, I step forward and punch him in his stomach with everything I have, causing him to buckle at the knees. I don’t hesitate, using the opportunity to choke him from the rear, tightening my arm around his neck until my biceps scream. His hands pull at my arm, but I won’t budge, even though it’s taking everything in me to keep my strength up and hold on. All I need to do is picture Charity sobbing against my chest in the hospital to not let go.
He falls to his knees, and I follow, my arm still tight around his neck. He leans forward for a moment, and then swings back suddenly and headbutts me with the back of his head, the pain of it cracking against my nose causing me to let go. As blood pours out and falls into my mouth, he quickly gets up off the ground and turns to face me. I take a kick to the face, his boot scraping hard against my skin. I fall flat to the dirt on my stomach and hear my boys yelling at me to get up. They’ve all gotten off their bikes now and are standing around.
“Get up, man. You got this.”
“Trigg, you can do this, brother. Smash the fucker.”
“C’mon, Trigg, get him! Look what he did to Charity.”
Those are just the words I need to hear to put the fight back into me. I put pressure on my hands to try to get up, but Blake lands on my back and has me in a headlock before I’m a foot off the ground, forcing my neck to arch as I struggle to breathe. I try to get him to release his hold, but the fucker is strong. Thinking back to when I used to train, I elbow-strike him a few times till he lets go. As soon as I’m free, I turn and straddle his waist, lifting his head in my hands and thrashing it onto the gravel. Then I pull my fist back and strike his jaw a couple of times. Blood streams from his lips, and his eye swells shut as I continue pummeling his face with my fists, enjoying the sound of skin against skin as I keep punching and punching. Nothing can stop me.
After a minute I hear a voice in the distance telling me to stop, but I can’t—pure anger and adrenaline are running through my veins, driving me on. The loop of Charity in the hospital bed, crying her heart out when she received the news about her baby, fill me with a rage I’ve never experienced before, and I continue to lay into Blake until I’m pulled off him and carried away by two of my brothers. I growl and scream out my frustration, trying everything in my power to get free so I can kill him, but my boys keep me at bay. It takes three of them in the end to hold me back.
I’m breathing like I’ve just run a marathon, and Quill steps in front of me. “That’s enough, Trigg, you’re gonna kill him!” he shouts, and puts his hand on my shoulder to try and calm me out of my frenzy.
“Good!” I spit. “I want him dead! He deserves to be dead.”
Quill grabs my face in his hands, forcing me to look at him. “Get it together, think about this, be smart. If you kill him, then it’s jail time for you, and what good would you be to Charity, then? Think about it, brother.”
I inhale, taking long and steady breaths, and after what seems like minutes I nod my head, and feel the arms restraining me loosen. I turn and see that it was Hawke and Blaze holding me back. When they let go, I spit blood onto the ground then look over at Blake, who’s groaning with pain, still lying on his back as his boys try to get him up. I go to take a step toward him, but I’m pulled back again. “Let me go, I just need to tell him something.”
I look to my side. Hawke and Blaze both look at Quill, and he gives them a chin lift, letting them know they can let go. Quill moves to the side, out of my way. “Remember, Trigg, think about Charity.”
I glare at him and spit out, “I am thinking of Charity.”
I walk up to Blake, and his boys move away, their faces showing they’re scared as shit. A bunch of fuckin’ pussies without their puppet master to guide them. I lean down to whisper in Blakes ear, “You’re fuckin’ lucky I don’t kill you tonight, because believe me, I want to. Now, you listen here, asshole. If you ever step foot in this town again, or even try to contact Charity—ever—I will hunt you down, and I will kill you next time. You got me?”
Blake looks up at me, his eyes swollen with all the punches I rained down on him, and smirks, blood staining his teeth. “She’s a fuckin’ whore anyway, she’s all yours.”
I nod and stand tall again, but before I walk away, I kick him hard in the side of his ribs and enjoy the sound of pain that comes rushing out of his mouth. “That’s for ever thinking you were man enough to have Charity as your woman. You’re not worth it.” I leave, with a feeling of deep satisfaction when I continue to hear him groan as he rolls around on the dirt.
I walk past Quill, Hawke, and the other boys, and straddle my bike. Smiling wide, I say, “Let’s ride.”