Gasket and I hauled Harley’s unconscious body to Marini’s door.

It wasn’t the ending to the night I was planning on and not the way I wanted to see Sloane again, but around here, I couldn’t choose my fate. It was all up to the roll of the dice.

Marini wasn’t pleased when he opened the door.

“What’s this?” he asked, looking down at Harley, who we’d dumped on the floor in the hall.

“He attacked Betty,” Gasket said, making a point of using her original name. Until now, he’d been calling her Sloane.

I snorted. The many faces of Gasket.

Marini made the same sound and threw the door open as wide as it would go. “Get him inside.”

Gasket and I took an arm each, and we dragged him into the room, sitting his fat ass into one of the dining chairs as Rick appeared like the bad smell he was. On call twenty-four seven to mop up his boss’s victims’ blood stains.

“Rick.” Marini crooked his finger, and the kid came running, eager to do his master’s bidding. “Get a bucket of cold water, and toss it on him.”

Gasket glanced at me, and I shrugged. I didn’t think that worked, but stranger shit had happened.

“Explain,” Marini barked as Rick left to get a bucket.

“After I spoke to you, I went to the roof,” I said. “It’s usually empty. No one goes up there.”

“Why were you?” The president’s eyes were cold.

“To clear my head. Have to after a job.”

He snorted. “And?”

“Harley had Sloane on her back, half hanging over the side of the roof, with his hands around her neck. Choking her.” I curled my lip, glancing at Harley, whose own head was lolling forward. “I would’ve thrown him off the edge myself, but I knew you’d want the honors.”

Marini’s eyes sparkled, and I expected some sadistic torture was coming. “Where is Betty now?”

“In my rooms,” Gasket replied.

“She wanted to play,” he murmured. “She wanted to be part of Fortitude. Maybe it’s time for her to see what happens to those who cross me.”

I wanted to correct him and say ‘those who pissed him off,’ but I might’ve added myself to the hit list. I’d once seen him stab a fork through the hand of the previous shitkicker before Rick. Why? Simply because the kid had accidentally put too much pepper on his steak. That was the kind of man who dealt out the punishments around here.

On cue, the door opened, and Rick came in carrying a full bucket of water. It sloshed, melting ice cubes rattling against the plastic.

“You used ice?” Marini asked, his face twisting.

“The cold is supposed to shock him awake,” Rick replied. “Makes it more confusing.”

Marini shrugged and snatched the bucket. Aiming it toward Harley, he threw the entire contents at the biker’s face. Water splashed everywhere, but with the heat we’d been suffering for the past week, it was a welcome comfort to be drenched.

It seemed to do the trick—thankfully, for Rick’s approval rating. Harley coughed and spluttered, his eyes flashing side to side as he regained consciousness. When his eyes unglazed and fixed on Marini, he looked like he was about to piss his pants.

The president smiled, taking out his executioner’s revolver, the gun Sloane had found so pretty, and waved it in Harley’s face.

“Wakey-wakey, sunshine,” Marini chortled. “Daddy’s got a surprise for you.” He reared his hand back and brought it down, smashing the butt of the revolver against the side of Harley’s head, snapping it to the side.

Harley blinked, fighting another wave of unconsciousness, and Marini slapped him awake again. Blood trickled down his face, mingling with the water and carving a deadly line across his pale cheeks before matting into his ratty beard.

“Explain yourself,” the president roared.

“Bitch disrespected me,” he mumbled. He hocked, then spat a gob of blood onto the floor.

“You put this whole club in jeopardy, do you understand that?” Marini paced like a hungry lion. “I’ve got plans for her. Big plans. Plans that will benefit the entire club. You almost fucked it up, Harley.”

I glanced at Gasket. What plans? What was Marini getting at? If anyone knew, it would be Gasket. He was second-in-command.

The big biker narrowed his eyes, signaling he didn’t know what the hell Marini was talking about. Shit, shit, shit.

“Lock him up,” Marini said, curling his lip. “Kick him around a little before you go, too.”

“What are you going to do with him?” Rick asked, eyeing the beaten up biker.

“You’ll have to wait and see.”

I raised my eyebrows, giving Rick a look that said he was a dumbass. What did he think was going to happen to the guy? Harley’s story only had one ending, and it wasn’t a happy one. If, by some miracle, Marini allowed him to live, it wouldn’t be much of a life.

We locked Harley in a disused storage closet that had been converted into a cell. It sat on the lower floor of the compound right above the basement and had all the mod cons. Slate gray feature wall, white cornices, a rendered concrete bench to sleep on, and a heavy duty lock on the unbreakable metal door. Conveniently, there was a drain in the middle of the floor.

Gasket dumped Harley on the bench, and I stood back as Rick got a few kicks in as per Marini’s orders, then locked the door behind us. I had to know what Marini was planning, and if anyone knew, it was that little piece of shit.

Glancing at the biker next to me, the man who said he cared about Sloane like a father, I didn’t need to explain to him what I was about to do. All he did was nod to let me know we were on the same page.

I waited until Rick was walking down the hall with his back to us before I sprang into action. It was past time to shake this little asshole down.

Striding up behind him, I grabbed him by the scruff of the neck as Gasket opened the door to the basement. The kid yelped as I hauled his ass down the stairs and pushed him against the side of the boiler. Overhead, the door slammed closed, and Gasket appeared beside me.

“Fuck!” Rick exclaimed, scurrying across the floor like the rat he was.

He was on his feet in a flash, looking for an exit, but I shoved him up against the wall and held my forearm on his chest. Leveling my gaze, I sneered. “You’ve got a smart mouth on you. You like pretending your little dick is huge, huh?”

“Get off me!”

“What is Marini planning?” I asked, jamming my arm harder against him. “Talk.”

“He doesn’t tell me anything,” he said, sniveling like a little pig. “I just follow orders. Same as you.”

“See, here’s the thing. I know all about little shits like you, Rick. You like licking the assholes of more powerful men, believing you’ll rise to the top by eating their shit. It doesn’t work like that. Weak men lick, Rick. Weak men like you. When the blood stops running, all you’ll find out is that it was just shit all along. You ate shit.” I inched closer, triumph coursing through my veins as his pupils dilated in fear. “You’re a shit liar, too. You wanna know how I know? Weak shits like you love to press their ears up to doors and listen to conversations that aren’t for them. Like a rat scurrying through a crack. Now…are you going to piss your pants, or are you going to tell me what you know?”

“D-don’t kill me,” Rick stuttered, showing off what a big man he was. A child barely out of diapers way in over his head.

Gasket shifted behind me. “Start talking, kid, or this won’t end pretty. You know what Chaser is.”

Rick was shaking, unable to control his fear. Soon, he would be catatonic.

“What is Marini going to do to Sloane?” I shook him.

“Last time he was going to sell her to the Venturas,” he spat out. “As a whore. The Venturas like to share, you know.”

“Get on with it,” Gasket snapped. “We know this shit.”

“He’s going to sell her off again,” Rick exclaimed. “To make things go away.”

“Sell her to who?” I asked, knowing full well who the deal was going down with.

“Them.”

“The Hollow Men?” I growled, my anger turning into something more like rage. After all we’d been through to get here, Marini was just going to give her to them? All that talk about saving face was a lie.

“It’s your fault,” Rick said. “I’m just the messenger. The newbie shitkicker.”

“My fault?” I grabbed the front of his shirt and jerked him close.

“Marini said it would be all-out war unless he gave them Betty. Who do you think he’s gonna choose? The bitch who ran away or us?”

“Has the deal been made?” Gasket asked, pushing in between Rick and me.

I loosened my grip and stood back, wanting nothing more than to go back to Marini’s rooms and put a bullet in his head. He was going to sell off his own daughter…again. Sloane, the woman I… Hell.

“Not yet. He’s still considering terms. Waiting for the heat from the train to die off.”

Gasket shoved Rick back against the wall, and before he could move another inch, the biker brought his fist down on his temple. The kid’s eyes rolled, and he crumpled to the ground in a heap.

“Fuck!” I roared, fisting my hands into my hair.

“You didn’t know,” Gasket said, watching my meltdown with a raised eyebrow. “You were only following orders. Hell, even I didn’t know.”

“Something’s gotta be done. Sloane’s timeline… There isn’t going to be enough time to pull it off.”

“He’s becoming more and more erratic. I don’t know what you’ve got going on, but you’re right. This isn’t the time to play the long game. Marini…” Gasket shook his head.

“It’s not about the club,” I said. “It’s about saving his own ass.”

Gasket nodded, agreeing wholeheartedly with me.

“Do you think you’d have the support?” I knew Sloane wanted to take Fortitude, but with our shortened timeline, Gasket could have the following we needed to out Marini.

“Don’t know,” the biker replied. “I’m well liked, but that doesn’t always translate.”

I grunted. We had to work fast, then.

“What are we going to do about him?” I nodded at Rick’s comatose body. It was the second KO in as many hours. “He’s going to rat us out. No questions. We can’t afford any leaks.”

“I’ll take him for a ride,” the biker replied. “A long one.”

I nodded, glad I wasn’t the one taking another body out to the desert for a change.

“Marini will ask questions,” I quipped.

“And I’ll have a story for him.”

“You’ve done this before, haven’t you?” I narrowed my eyes.

“More times than I care to remember.” That was something we had in common.

What a mess. Harley attacking Sloane had done us one favor at least. His dumb ass had bought us some time while Marini thought over his fate. The boss would make Harley squirm, then make a spectacle out of his punishment, forcing Sloane and the entire club to watch the torture, and then do the deal with the Hollow Men.

I was so done with this whole night. Turning, I took a step toward the stairs, but Gasket grabbed my arm and wrenched me toward him.

“Don’t tell her,” he commanded. “Don’t tell her about Marini’s plan.”

I narrowed my eyes and wrenched my arm away. Gasket couldn’t command me.

“She’s not ready, Chaser. She’s not supposed to be in this world.”

“I think you’re underestimating her capabilities,” I drawled. “You’ve seen her break Harley’s nose and change a few tires. That’s not everything she is. Sloane is…” I didn’t know the right word to describe the power in her. Holding it together was one thing, but sacrificing her freedom, knowing what fate might’ve awaited her, to fight back? It was something special. Even I hadn’t been able to do that.

“She’s not ready,” Gasket repeated more forcibly.

“It’s not about being ready,” I said, walking away from him. “No one is ever ready to fight for their lives.”