“Yeah?”
“We got a serious fucking problem, son.” I overheard Blackjack's gravelly voice on the other line. “The first copies of that tape just hit the other charters today. The mole we've still got in the clubhouse says Fang's mad as hell. He's swearing up and down he didn't kill the guy, promising the other clubs he's gonna get a confession out of whoever did.”
Brass gave me a dark look and pulled the phone away from me, hoping I wouldn't hear. He got up and stepped into the hall. I strained to listen.
“Yeah? What fucking leverage has he got? Sounds like the damned thing did exactly what we hoped for.”
I couldn't hear what Blackjack said. I reached for the heap of my clothes on the ground, pulling on my panties and a long t-shirt. I stepped up to the door frame and waited, hoping he wouldn't notice I was right behind him.
“Okay, whatever,” Brass said. “Send it my way. Better I see this shit for myself...”
There was a long pause. The call ended. Then his phone dinged again, and he tapped the screen to bring up a video.
The short redhead on his screen was beaten bloody. Her eyes were swollen shut, and she jumped each time the demon's hands moved behind her, his fingers flexing rough on her shoulders before he leaned down and showed his monstrous face.
It can't be. Jesus. No.
My face wanted to fall to the ground, but my eyes were glued to the sideshow on Brass' phone. I knew her. It was Jackie's tutor, Christa, and she'd been left behind while we fought our way out.
“You fucking rats are too cowardly to fight man-to-man, face-to-face,” Fang rumbled through the glowing glass. “Now, you see what happens.” He bared his teeth in a sick, angry smile.
“I'm gonna give you seventy-two hours to show yourselves at the clubhouse and bring every copy of that bullshit you sent far and wide. You'll admit that fucking abortion was a forgery on tape, and then we'll see what happens. I'm done making any promises about anyone's safety except hers.”
His fingers tightened on the woman's shoulders. “This bitch dies piece by fucking piece if you don't show yourselves. I know the Prairie Pussies are in on this. They're gonna get the first hand I lop off in the mail, assuming I don't start with these pretty tits first.”
He grabbed her breasts and squeezed. Hard. Painful. Christa jerked in his arms, but she was too bad off to fight. He'd broken her resistance awhile ago – maybe days.
Tears burned my eyes. My heart crashed against my ribs like a hummingbird trying to beat its way out of my chest.
“Seventy-two hours, assholes, 'til I carve my first piece. Then it'll be every fucking hour you cocksuckers don't show. Not a minute more. Don't disappoint me. I didn't claw my way to the top of this goddamned club passing out mercy. Looks like some people have forgotten that lately, and they're about to find out I'll do everything in my power to hang onto what's mine. Don't underestimate anything.”
The screen went dead. Brass' arms trembled, and for a second I thought he was going to hurl the phone down the staircase next to him, smash it into a million pieces the same way my heart was splitting apart.
I couldn't hold in the anguished squeal. He spun, tucking the cell back into his pocket. He was on me in an instant, had me pressed snug against the wall.
“Jesus, Brass. If only I'd known! I didn't know he had her...thought they just knocked her out when they got Jackie. I thought they left her there. We can't let him do –“
“Babe, I need you to get a grip right fucking now. If you have a stroke or a heart attack right here over this, there's no way I'm gonna be able to get her out. I'll be too busy saving your sweet ass to deal with hers.”
I wanted to wipe away the hot tears sliding down my cheeks, but Brass' big arms blocked the way.
“Can you?” I shot him a skeptical look, and it hurt to doubt him. “I mean, can you save her without killing or hurting yourself or any of your guys?”
His lips twitched. “Yes. Have some faith, babe. There's no fucking way I'm gonna let him spill more innocent blood. Not when it's all for clinging to power and fucking up my club.”
His fingers tightened on my arm. Hard. I let out a whimper.
“Shit. I'm sorry.” He ripped himself away and stepped back. “Go back to bed, Missy. I gotta grab my clothes and go. Blaze and his crew need to be in on this. They'll help me figure out the logistics...”
I slumped against the wall. My knees wouldn't work, and I kept sliding down, down, toppled by a dark gravity, slowly losing my mind.
That terrible fog that chewed at my brain while I was bound, watching Serial menace Jackie, returned. I shook my head, fighting it.