Chapter Twenty-Five
Hack
Leaning against the concrete wall of the basement, I watch Pru’s mom struggle against the ropes holding her in place. Unlike the men who end up here, she is not hanging from the ceiling hooks. Instead, she is tied to a chair with her mouth gagged.
“Looks like your trip went well,” Boz says as he walks in the room with Brew.
Brew shuts the door behind them, turning the lock, then walks across the room and places a box in the corner. “Might have gone good for Hack and Smoke, but the bitch doesn’t look too happy.”
“She hasn’t shut up since she woke up,” Smoke says with a shrug. “Got tired of listening to her mouth, so I gagged her.”
Pru’s key came in handy, allowing us to get into her mom’s apartment without picking the lock. As Pru thought, the bitch was still in bed. The only time it got sketchy was when the man lying beside her woke up. Just as I was about to knock his ass out, he lifted a hand and shook his head. After explaining that we could do whatever we wanted to Clair, he rolled over and went back to sleep.
The bitch was passed out cold, allowing us to get her to the van without her throwing a fit. We tied her up, just to be safe, and headed home without an issue. We were only a couple of miles away from home when she finally woke up. I swear, the minute she opened her eyes, she started screaming and didn’t stop until Smoke forced her to.
“We’re not gonna get any answers if she can’t talk,” Boz states, walking over and pulling the gag from her mouth.
She doesn’t miss a beat, just starts screaming again. My feet are moving, and the palm of my hand is slapping against her cheek before I realize what I’m doing. Her head flies to the side, and blood starts to dribble down her chin.
The sound of my father’s voice fills my head. Noah, a good man never takes his hand to a woman.
He does if the bitch has treated his woman like shit since the day she was born, I answer him silently.
“Stop that damn screaming before I cut your fucking tongue out,” I growl, stalking back to my spot by the wall.
Her eyes follow me as she says, “What’s my daughter gonna think when she finds out you hit her momma?”
“She’ll be so thankful, she’ll drop to her knees and blow me,” I reply honestly, pasting an evil smile on my face.
The bitch’s eyes flash with fury, and she grinds her teeth. “My daughter will never choose you over me.”
Leaning my shoulder against the wall, I cross my arms. “That’s where you’re wrong. If she had to choose, she’d pick me every fucking time.”
She starts cussing me, but her words come to an abrupt stop when Boz wraps his fingers around her neck. “You are gonna keep your mouth shut unless you are answering our questions. Do you understand?”
“Yeah,” she gasps out when he finally releases his hold.
He steps back, walks to the side of the room, and grabs a chair. Pulling it over to where Clair is tied in place, he flips it around and straddles the seat. For a few minutes, he just stares at her. He is studying her face with such intensity, a flush covers her cheeks.
“You were something, back in the day, weren’t you?” Boz asks, his voice barely above a whisper. “Before you let life kick you in the ass, I bet you were every bit as beautiful as your daughter.”
“Pru’s nothing special. She couldn’t hold a candle to me,” Clair spits out with so much venom that Boz blinks.
I want to scream out my denial, but I hold back and let my brother do his job.
“You’re wrong about that. Pru is fucking gorgeous, inside and out. If I didn’t have my woman and my brother hadn’t already claimed her, she’d be gracing my bed,” he says with a sarcastic smile.
When no reply comes, he goes on. “What’s your connection to the Saints?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I have no connection with the Saints,” she replies, not looking him in the eye.
As if on cue, Brew walks over to the box he sat in the corner and pulls out the paint splattered teddy bear. “Are you saying you know nothing about this?”
Clair looks at it, pretending to be confused. “Is that a stuffed animal?”
“Are you saying you had no idea what was in the boxes you had sent here?” he asks, obviously not believing her confusion.
Not waiting for her to answer, I walk over to the box and pull out the doll’s head. “What about this? You know anything about the threat against your granddaughter’s life.”
She looks at the head, reading my daughter’s name. “That little bitch actually named the kid after my mother?”
I blink as the meaning behind her words hits me. “You didn’t know your own granddaughter’s name?”
Even my own parents, whom I haven’t seen since Holly’s death, know all about Scarlett. Dad has called me three times in the last six weeks, giving me unasked for advice. Mom texts me every day, begging for me to send more pictures. They’ve made plans to travel from Chattanooga to see her in a few weeks. They agreed to stay at the clubhouse, even though they are not a fan of the lifestyle.
“She probably told me. She’s always yammering on about the kid, so I don’t pay much attention,” she replies, trying to shrug but the ropes stop her. “I just never thought she would name her after my mother. The woman was an interfering bitch, always trying to take Pru away from me. Luckily, she kicked the bucket before she could get it done.”
“Lucky is not the word I would use. Sounds more like a tragedy to me.” I have no idea what the woman was like, but there’s no doubt she would have treated Pru better.
Boz cuts off her response, asking, “Did you even wonder what was in the boxes before you passed them off to be delivered?”
Her body slumps in the chair as if every bit of fight has left her. “I’m guessing you guys know everything, right?”
We don’t, but each one of us nods, and Boz says, “Yeah, and if you lie, that slap Hack gave you will seem like a love tap.”
She leans her head against the back of the chair and closes her eyes. “I didn’t have any idea what they were sending y’all. I didn’t have any idea what was going on until Frog and me got to the bar. He pointed to some guy and told me what to say. After that, we met some kid in the Walmart parking lot. Frog had me give him some boxes and the money for a phone. Other than that, I know nothing.”
“Frog?” Boz asks, cocking his brow in my direction.
My brain starts filtering through the information I’ve collected about the Saints. “He’s been in the club for the better part of twenty years, nothing more than a soldier.”
Boz looks back at Clair and starts firing one question after another. Most, she can’t answer. The ones she can, her answers are things we already know. Only when she mentions the name Scout does Boz go quiet and look to me.
“It’s the Saints’ Sergeant at Arms. The same fucker that stopped us on I-24,” Brew answers before I can.
I replay that day through my mind. Since I’ve had time to think about it, a lot of Scout’s actions that day confuse the hell out of me. I still don’t understand why he held back when I attacked his brother. If anyone had laid a hand on Brew, I would have been on them in a second. Same goes for Brew, if I had been in that position.
I remember the odd look that passed over his face before he mentioned Pru. It was almost like the words were being forced with him. For the first time, I realize he didn’t say that shit to piss me off but as a way of warning me she was in danger.
“What’s the connection between Scout and Pru?” I ask, looking at Clair.
The bitch lets out an ear-splitting cackle. “The stupid boy thinks Pru is his sister.”
I stumble back in shock. “What?”
“I was shacking up with his dad when I got pregnant. It’s possible she’s his, but she could also belong to a few others,” Clair responds with another laugh. “Scout was old enough to remember me being with his dad, so he just assumes Pru’s his sister.”
Picturing Scout’s face, I search for any similarities. Their hair color is the same, even carries the same waves. There’s nothing else, but then again, that is not unusual. Even though they may share the same father, they have different mothers. As much as I hate to say it, Pru inherited her beauty from her mom.
“Did you have a paternity test done?” I ask, wondering if my woman knows anything about this shit.
She rolls her eyes at my question. “The dickhead overdosed before she was born. It really didn’t matter anyway. The fucker was broke, so it’s not like I could have gotten any money out of him.”
I turn to Brew and say, “He was trying to let me know she was in danger.”
“Yeah, I’m thinking he was,” he replies with a nod.
“If he cares about her, we need to have a sit-down with him,” Smoke says as he pulls a cigarette out of his pocket.
Boz nods and says, “I’ll make the call as soon as I get upstairs.”
“What are we gonna do with her?” Brew asks, nodding his head at Clair.
“I’m figuring I’ll bring Trix down and let her have a little fun. My old lady will be fucking thrilled to kick the bitch’s ass when she finds out this is the same woman that has treated Pru like shit her entire life,” Boz says with a smile.
I shake my head and head toward the door. “Let me know when you set up the meet. I wanna be there. Right now, I want to see my woman.”