Boz
AFTER OUR shower, I leave Trix in the common room with one of my brothers. I walk down to the basement, needing to take care of this shit with Crank. As soon as I open the steel doors, my eyes lock on Cherry. She is huddled in a corner, her leg shackled to the wall. She doesn’t look like she’s in any pain, no bruises or blood. But judging by the way she is glaring at her brother, the bitch sure isn’t happy to be here.
As soon as she sees me, she starts crying. “Please don’t do this, Boz.”
I nod my head at her and reply, “I’ll deal with you later.”
Looking over to Crank, I paste a smile on my face. He’s standing in the middle of the room; his bare feet are in shackles, and both are bolted to the floor. Both wrists are chained to the ceiling, forcing his body into an X. I take in his bloody and bruised body and have to shake my head. Brew and Smoke both have worked him over good, not leaving an inch of his body untouched. The chains are probably the only thing holding him upright at this point.
He went through a few hours of torture at my boys’ hands, but he stuck to his story through each and every blow. He still claims Hoss’ boys took our shipment. The small changes, little slips of the tongue, are enough for me to realize that he knows more than he is telling. However, the brutal beating he took, while keeping his mouth shut, is enough to tell me he’s not gonna talk. I could kill him, but a dead rat is no good to me. I want him back on the streets so my boys can watch him.
Crank’s blackened eyes come to mine as he spits a mouth full of blood onto the floor. “Did you come to take your turn?”
If he’s still talking, my boys didn’t do a good enough job. Shaking my head, I walk over to Smoke and grab the torch from his hands. “No, I came for your ink.”
I hear a gasp from Cherry, and my eyes go to her. This woman grew up in the club, so she knows what’s about to go down. Her body is vibrating with fear, so I shoot her a wink. “It’s a good thing you don’t have anything to do with this shit. Isn’t it?”
“What do you mean, take my ink?” Crank asks, drawing my attention from Cherry.
“You were voted out,” I explain, staring at his bleeding chest. It’s free of ink, so I move around to his back and find his colors. “We don’t want to have to call a nasty fucker like you brother anymore.”
“Over some piece of snatch?” he asks, turning his head to look at me. “You can’t do that shit. It’s not fair.”
My fists clench as I fight the urge to knock him in his already bloody mouth. “That’s my woman you’re talking about.”
Trix might not know it yet, but she became mine the minute I sunk into her sweet pussy. I’m not sure how that’s gonna go over with Hoss, but he’s gonna have to get used to it. I’m not letting her go, even if it means war. No one is taking her away from me again.
“She wasn’t wearing your brand, so she wasn’t yours at the time,” he says, twisting his head from side to side to keep his eyes on me.
I ignore his words and go on to explain why this shit is happening. “This here has nothing to do with Trix. It’s all about your stupid ass. You grew up in this club, had your cut for more than five years, and still you don’t know how to follow orders.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” he asks, even though he has to know the answer to that shit.
“There’s too much shit to list, but let’s just talk about this last week. First, you lost our shipment.” I start with his first major fuck-up.
He shakes his head. “I told you that wasn’t my fault. The Revenge boys did it.”
I nod, letting him know I hear every word he is saying. “That may be true, but it wouldn’t have happened if you sent Brew the location, like you were supposed to.”
“I did. I swear. Something must have fucked up with the phone,” he tries to explain.
Even though I know he’s lying, I look over to where Brew has been standing quietly by the door. Lifting my chin to him, I give him permission to speak. He pulls a phone out of his pocket and touches the screen. A second later he walks up to Crank.
He holds the phone in front of him and says, “The shipment was supposed to be picked up at nine pm. Right here, you texted the location twice. Once at eight fifty-four then another at nine eleven. Neither of them were to me, though.”
Brew brought this shit to my attention as soon as he discovered it. As far as we can tell, the number is a burner phone. We have no idea who he sent the text to, but someone knew where the guns were. That someone wasn’t one of my boys.
“I must have hit the wrong fucking number,” Crank claims, grasping at straws. “I thought I sent the location to Brew.”
Brew starts to say something else, but I shake my head for him to keep his mouth shut. It’s better to let the fucker think we believe his fucked-up lies. If he does, he may lead us to who’s in charge of this shit. I may not know what’s going on right now, but I do know that Crank isn’t smart enough to come up with this shit on his own.
“When I sent you after Trix, I told you to go in gentle and to keep it clean. You ended up taking her in a public location with an outsider, leaving Brew no choice but to bring Addy along. So instead of Hoss’s daughter, I have two women on my hands—one that has family that doesn’t understand how this shit is done. There’s no doubt in my mind they’ll be calling the law, if they haven’t already. Not only that, you hit Trix so hard you knocked her ass out,” I tell him, becoming more pissed as I talk. “There’s nothing gentle or clean about how you handled the entire thing.”
He tries to say something, but I cut him off. “I told you not to lay a hand on either of the girls after they got here. I fucking warned you what would happen if you did. Then, your ass walked away from me and went right to Trix. Not only did you touch her, but your sorry fucking ass tried to rape her.” My voice grows louder with each word I say.
“I wasn’t gonna hurt her,” he tries to explain his actions, but nothing he can say will take the image of him on top of her out of my head.
Wanting to get this over with, I tell Crank what’s going to happen. “We’re gonna get rid of your colors. After that, you’re no longer a member of the Grim Bastards.
He shakes his head, fear filling his voice. “No, Dad wouldn’t let you do that shit.”
His father has a lot of pull with the club. Hell, the old man has a lot of pull with me. Stone’s been a member of the Grim Bastards for more than thirty years. He stuck with the club, even when Dad was running us into the ground. He’s not only a brother; he’s also a valued friend. Still, there’s nothing he can do to stop this.
“Your dad can’t stop this. It’s been voted on, and your ass is out,” I tell him, grabbing a bottle of Jack from the shelf.
Even though I would never tell him, Stone didn’t even try to stand up for his son. In fact, he voted to blackball Crank, just like every other patched member did. After church was over, he came to me. Without saying the words, he told me to take his boy out if that’s what I needed to do for the club. I could tell it was hard for him, but he’s a member all the way down to his bones. If Crank hadn’t patched in, this would be different, but Stone realizes that his son did this shit to himself. Like all good members, he knows the club has to come first.
Lifting up the bottle of whiskey, I pour it over Crank’s bare back. I hate burning people, fucking hate the way it smells. Hate the way they scream as I do it. I’ve had to do it to a few troublemakers when I cleaned up after Dad died. Most of the boys that left blacked theirs out, but a few refused. Those got the torch, just like Crank will in a few minutes.
“I’m gonna take your ink off, but you’ll live if you get yourself to the hospital right away,” I say as I fire up the torch. “You need to know, though, if I find out that you’re lying about the guns, your ass is as good as dead.”
“Don’t do this, brother,” he begs, fighting against the chains on his wrists. “We’ve known each other too long for this. Let me black it out, please.”
I pull in a deep breath, steeling my resolve. “You left me no choice the minute you laid your hands on what was mine.”
Not giving him time to respond, I touch the flame to his back. The alcohol ignites instantly, sending a wave of flames from his neck down to his ass. Crank tosses back his head and lets out a blood-curdling scream. The smell of burning flesh hits my nose, just as Smoke smothers the flames with a blanket. The only sounds in the room are Crank’s broken sobs.
Forcing myself to step forward, I make sure the job is done. His ink is barely visible through the charred and blistered skin. When he heals, if he heals, the Grim Bastards MC logo will still be there, but it will be unrecognizable. Anyone that can make it out will know that he has been cut from the club, so our name and our protection no longer apply to him.
Walking around, I look into his pain-filled eyes and say, “It’s done.”
Just before I walk out the door, I lift my chin to Brew. “Make sure this shit is cleaned up, and get his ass off Grim Bastards’ property.”
Nodding to Smoke, I add, “Have somebody come down here to keep an eye on Cherry. We’ll deal with her after I talk to Round. I want to make sure he knows all the shit she’s been up to.”
Her sobs follow me as I walk out the door.