BOZ
TRIX CRIED herself to sleep in my arms. I hate to see her cry, but I’m glad she’s finally getting some rest.
Knowing what must be done, I gently roll Trix off my chest. After running a hand over her long blond hair, I crawl from the bed. I walk to the door before turning back and looking at my girl. I hate knowing that she feels so guilty about Grim. Hell, I do too, but there’s nothing we can do about that now. I’m just glad that she’s still here with me, and I have Grim to thank for that.
Shutting the door quietly behind me, I make my way down to the basement. As soon as I walk in, my eyes land on Stone. He is in the same position that his son was just a few days ago. His hands are above his head, chained to the ceiling, and his feet are shackled to the floor.
I barely make it through the door, before Smoke is handing me Stone’s cut. “I thought you might like to do this yourself.”
Lifting my chin to him, I walk over to the shelf and grab a new bottle of Jack. Once it’s opened, I make my way to the metal bucket sitting in the corner, the one brought in just for this reason. Dropping in Stone’s cut, I pour whiskey over it. A second later, Brew hands me a lit match. I drop it in and watch the leather start to curl. It won’t burn completely, not until we toss it in the incinerator, but the patches are gone and that’s what matters now.
Once that is done, I set the bottle back on the shelf then walk over to Stone and look him right in the eyes. “Why?”
He tilts his head to the side and answers, “Why not?”
My fist goes flying into his face, causing blood to pour from his nose. “Why the fuck did you betray the club?”
He stares at me with eyes filled with hate, something I never thought I would see from this man. Where has he been hiding it all this time—every time we share a beer, talked club business, hit the road together? Could I have been that fucking blind?
“We quit being the Grim Bastards the day your daddy died,” he says as he spits a mouth full of blood on the floor.
“What the fuck are you talking about?” I ask, taking a step back.
“I joined this club because I wanted the freedom to be who I wanted. No rules,” he explains, blood dribbling onto his chest. “Then, you took over and starting telling us what we could do. If we didn’t toe the line, we were out. My ass was moving on, but I was doing it on my own terms, with a shitload of cash in my pocket.”
Stepping forward, I grab him by the hair and force him to look in my eyes. “Like I said, what the fuck are you talking about?”
He stares at me but doesn’t reply, so I let go of his hair and send a brutal punch to his jaw. The sound of his bone crunching fills the room as he lets out a low moan.
After a few seconds, a murmured, “fuck you,” comes from his mouth. “I’ll never leave this room alive, so why should I tell you shit?”
“It’ll make your death a hell of a lot easier,” Brew comments from the corner.
Stone looks at him and winks. “Bring it on, motherfucker.”
Not allowing that to pass by, my Sargent at Arms walks behind him and sends a quick jab to the rat’s kidneys. I follow it with a fist to the gut then another quick punch to the jaw. By the time I’m done, Stone’s head is sagging forward as his blood is dripping onto the floor.
He looks up at me, still looking smug as ever. “Don’t you know? I’ve been beaten by better men than you. There’s no way you can break me.”
Smoke steps forward, pliers in his hand, but I shake him away. Walking across the room, I grab the torch and pick up the half-empty bottle of whiskey. Going back to him, I pour whiskey over his t-shirt covered back. Not giving him a second to prepare, I strike the torch and touch his shirt. It goes up in flames in seconds, catching his hair and his jeans also.
I nod to Brew, but it takes him a second to take off his cut and pull off his shirt. When he’s finally done, he uses the shirt to douse the flames. It takes some time. When he’s through, Stone is screaming in agony.
Not bothering to look at the damage I caused, I walk around Stone and ask, “Now, tell me why the fuck you betrayed us, and don’t give me any shit.”
It takes a minute for his screams to stop, but when they do, he raises his pain-filled eyes to mine. “I was making a mint selling meth on the side, until you ran Torch out of town. After that, he wouldn’t sell me shit.”
Fuck! All of this is over money? How much could he have been making, anyway? Torch wasn’t getting that shit direct; he wasn’t buying it off someone and selling it for more, so by the time it got in Stone’s hands, he couldn’t have been making much more than pennies on the dollar for profit.
“Do you know where Torch is?” Smoke asks from his spot on the wall.
I know my brother is wanting payback for his sister. He wants Torch dead, and I don’t blame him. He and his father have spent most of their time since her death looking for Torch, and this may be as close as he ever gets.
Stone’s voice is coming out in hard pants when he whispers his answer. “I haven’t heard from him since Hoss’ boys ran him out of their town. I don’t know if he went underground, just disappeared, or if they killed his ass.”
I can hear the pain in his voice and know it’s time to put him out of his misery. “You know you aren’t walking out of this room alive, so tell us where the guns are, and the pain will stop.”
He shakes his head, his breaths coming in short gasps. “I like the idea of dying, knowing you’ll never get your hands on those guns. I’ll be dead, but so will this fucking club.”
Just as I pull my fist back, Smoke steps in front of me. “It’s my turn.”
I move back and let my brother do his job. Instead of pliers, Smoke has a set of dull ass wire cutters in his hand. He unzips Stone’s pants and pulls them down. The melted denim pulls skin and all as they are jerked to the floor. Remnants of his boxers stick to his leg, but his withered dick is bared for all to see. Not hesitating, Smoke grabs it and starts snipping away. Stone’s screams fill the room as chunk after chunk falls to the floor.
“Your nuts are next, man,” Smoke says, stepping back. “You better get to talking.”
Stone’s head falls back as his entire body shakes. For a minute, I think he’s having a stroke, but he finally starts to speak. “The truck… is hidden in the woods… behind my place. The guns… the guns are in a storage building… downtown… unit C 124.”
I lift my chin to Brew, and he pulls out his phone. After a quick text, he shuts it down, walks over to me, and grabs the bottle I’m still holding. He nods for Smoke to join us then takes a quick drink and passes it to him.
After a quick swig, Smoke hands it back to me and says, “It’ll be awhile, so we might as well have a drink.”
It takes nearly a half an hour and the rest of the bottle of Jack before Brew’s phone dings. After reading the message, he nods. “Round’s got eyes on the guns.”
Realizing it’s time, I walk over to Stone. I lift the bottle up and say, “One last drink.”
“Whiskey would be good about now,” he rasps, so far gone with pain that he probably doesn’t know where the fuck he’s at.
I lift it up to his mouth and pour until he pulls back. “Thanks, brother.”
Even with all the son of a bitch has done, I hate to prolong his agony any longer. Still, I have to get the full story. “Who were you gonna sell the guns to?”
“Gonzo, he used to be part of Revenge,” he murmurs, gasping for air. “They cut his ass, so he’s running stolen goods for an outfit out of Atlanta.”
My eyes move to my brothers, and we all three smile, knowing we won’t be giving Hoss a cut of our take from the guns. Looking back at Stone, I ask, “Anything you want me to tell your old lady?”
“Don’t tell her anything. Just let her think Crank and I both disappeared,” he says, his voice a bit stronger. “Get it done, Pres. I’m tired of waiting.”
Sliding my pistol from my holster, I place it at his temple. A second later, the sound of a bullet leaving the chamber fills the room. After that, there’s complete silence as my brothers and I watch Stone’s blood coat the floor.