Breaking Hammer (Inferno Motorcycle Club, #3)

Benicio said nothing for a while, even after Blaze had finished speaking. "I assume you've done some digging of your own on Aston, yes?"

I held up the binder containing everything I had on the man. "I narrowed down the possibilities for where they might be located. I don't know for certain, but out of the several locations, I'd be inclined to say they're at his location in Bangkok. Meia talked about the place where she was held - she called it a finishing school. Aston was younger then, and it's where he first...met...Meia and her sister." I stumbled over the word "met," and I forced the image out of my head of what he'd done to Meia back then.

And what he might be doing to her and her son now.

The thought made my stomach turn. But, more than that, it made me enraged. I wanted to kill him before; I wanted to destroy him now.

Benicio had said little during any of this, and I held my breath, waiting for his verdict. The club's Panamanian employer had an extensive network of resources, broader than I could begin to even guess at. If anyone was going to give us a contact for weapons in Thailand, it would be Benicio.

"I'm familiar with Aston," he said. "He's been running a trafficking operation out of Vegas for years now. With the implicit permission of some influential political leaders, of course. There are rumors about his parties, and the people who attend."

"Parties," I echoed stupidly. Meia had said she was forced to do whatever Aston wanted. I felt my fists clench at my side.

"Invitation only, given by Aston or one of the key members. These are people who are extremely powerful, very well-connected, and wealthy. The rumor is that Aston provides whatever you need to satisfy a craving-no matter the type of craving-and no matter how young your preferred partner."

A chill ran up the length of my spine. "Meia and her son," I said. "There won't be a lot of time before they disappear."

Benicio shook his head. "No, I imagine not. There is some urgency here."

"We need a contact for weapons in Bangkok..."

Benicio raised his hand, silencing Blaze. "Weapons, transportation, manpower," he said. He gestured, and one of the men at the wall walked to his desk, leaned down while Benicio spoke in his ear, then nodded and left. "This will be done."

"This is a personal issue," I said. "With all due respect, I didn't expect -"

Benicio cut me off. "What is happening with your woman is tragic, yes," he said. "I am not a humanitarian. I may not like this trafficking of persons, but I am not a charity. But Aston and I have had dealings before. He does not only smuggle people. And I am, shall we say...intrigued by the possibility of expanding into an Asian market. I am always looking for opportunities for growth. Elimination of a rival is an opportunity for growth."

"I don't know for certain that they are in Thailand," I said.

"Details," Benicio said. "To be ironed out in the next several hours. I don't doubt your intelligence gathering skills, but I have my own resources who may be more useful. Are you sending anyone else from the club?"

"Squid," Blaze said. "And Axe is going to make the trip too."

Benicio nodded. "Axe," he said. "He will be very useful. So will my men." He paused. "You will, of course, preferably return Aston here. Alive."

"I would like the opportunity to end him myself," I said. The remaining associate standing behind Benicio glanced in my direction, his face unreadable, but his eyes spoke of an understanding of what would happen. After what he'd done to Meia and her son, I had my own end in mind for Aston.

"Yes, well," Benicio said. "There are particular questions I would like to ask him. Business questions about which I am curious. I have someone who is exceptionally skilled at extracting information. After that, he is yours."

If Meia doesn't try to kill him first, I thought. It would be a suicide mission.





The bolt in the door turned, and I sat up on the bed, my heart racing, my body immediately tensed in preparation for another assault. Aston didn't often hit me like that, square in the face, preferring to "preserve my beauty," and I feared what else that meant he had in store for me.

What he had in store for me was nothing compared to what he had threatened to do to my son.

I would kill him first, before I let that happen. Even if it meant I would die in the process. I didn't care what it took, what it might do to me.

The girl stepped inside, and the heavy wooden door shut behind her with a thud. She walked toward the bed, a tray in her hands, eyes cast downward to the floor. She appeared Cambodian, a young girl, maybe ten, and walked with the defeated gait I recognized from my own childhood. She set the tray on the table beside the bed without looking at me, and I reached for her hand.

"What is your name?" I asked.

She withdrew her hand like she'd been scalded, and glanced up at me with sad eyes, a dog who'd been beaten. She shook her head.

"How long have you been here?" I asked.