Page 25 of StoryTeller's Tale

CHAPTEREIGHT

STORYTELLER

How the fuck did I let myself be goaded into this?

Slugger and Chaz had issued a challenge and I know they half-expected me to respond with a middle finger. Unfortunately, if a gauntlet is thrown down in front of me, I’m the type of man who picks it up instead of walking away.

Leaving them, returning to the crash room I’m using as mine for the time being, I bang my forehead against the wall, wondering why returning the book to its rightful owner had become so important to me. How the fuck have I gotten into the position that I’m proposing to put my life on the line for a woman I only know by name.

I barely know what she looks like. She’s got a mass of red hair, that’s to be admired, but while the camera is known to add on weight, even allowing for the couple of extra pounds, Sheri isn’t slim by any stretch of the imagination, and certainly isn’t my normal type.

And while I don’t much like the human trafficking trade, I’m not normally driven to stop it. I know it goes on, but it’s easier to turn a blind eye. Much like the guns that we shift, I rarely think about the outcome—sure a gun is a weapon, but it only becomes dangerous in the hands of the wrong man. Call me shallow, but it’s a dog-eat-dog world, all of us just doing what we have to do to survive. Normally, I don’t lose sleep thinking about the victims. Life’s cruel, and fate can end it in too many ways.

But then, normally, I don’t have any connection to someone who’s been stolen away.

Even now, I could throw that damn book in the trash, and act like I never found out a fucking thing about its owner. Yeah. I could do that.

Resting my forehead against the drywall, I scoff at myself. Like fuck I could. For better or worse, I do know what’s happened to Sheri, or can take a good fucking guess. And for some reason, I don’t like it.

Knowing my head won’t take much more punishment, I throw myself down on the lumpy bed.What are my chances? Will the Dominators really honour the ol’ lady code? If I convince them she’s my woman, is there a chance in hell that I could get her back?

I doubt it. Okay, I could bargain as suggested with a Wretched Soulz marker, a kind ofget out of jail free cardor, in other words, escape unscathed if we happen to catch you. Would one bitch be worth that?

I’m not convinced it will be that easy. They might prefer me to offer to buy her. While I’ve money in my bank account, why should I spend it on rescuing a bitch who means fuck all to me?

A loud knock at my door has me raising my eyebrow, wondering who’d be disturbing me. I go and wrench it open, not in the mood for company. There, holding a bottle of whisky in one raised hand and two shot glasses in the other, stands Chaz.

“You going to invite me in?”

My eyes narrow. “I wouldn’t have, but you had the foresight to bring that.” I nod toward the amber nectar he’s holding, and then step aside.

It’s a crash room, one used for fucking and not a lot else. There’s nowhere to sit except on the bed.

I don’t miss Chaz’s grimace as he sits down, shifting position as a broken spring clearly touches his ass, or his rueful glance. “Fuck, Bro, didn’t realise I was sentencing you to sleep on that.”

Overlooking that I was going to complain about it, I minimise my discomfort. “It’s only temporary, and I’ve slept in worse places.” As a SEAL, I certainly have. The luxury of even a lumpy worn-out mattress would have been very welcome at times. Even as a nomad, I don’t get offered the best pads. And there’s many a time I’ve slept out under the stars without griping.

Chaz shrugs. “As I’m hoping you’ll stick around for a few months, we’ll get you something better.”

I’m not sure I want to stick around, as he puts it, at all, in the current climate. I feel like a chew toy both Chaz and Slugger are throwing to the dogs, without much concern whether it’s going to get ripped to shreds and spat back out.

He pours a generous portion of whisky into each glass and passes one across. Taking it, I feel like a condemned man being offered his last meal.

Hoisting my leg onto the bed, bending it at the knee and leaning back on the pillow, I tiredly ask, “What do you want, Chaz?”

His lips purse as he studies the contents of the glass in his hand. “I wouldn’t have come up with Slugger’s plan. Knew not doing fuck was eating at you, but I couldn’t see how we could get this bitch of yours out, not without bloodshed.”

“But you’re quite happy if it’s mine?”

He looks at me sharply. “Not at fuckin’ all, ST. That’s why I wanted to keep you out. You don’t even know the bitch, let alone owe anything to her.”

I open my mouth but I’m not sure whether it’s to protest the safest route is the one he’d planned—for me to keep well out of it—or to say Sheri doesn’t deserve the fate she’s facing at the hands of the Dominators. When pushed, I wouldn’t be able to explain what drives me, and I’m undecided how much risk to myself I’m prepared to take in her rescue. In the end, I use the parting of my lips to take a swallow of the liqueur, relishing the burn as it goes down.

Chaz gives up on waiting for me to say something. “Slugger didn’t get where he is by being a stupid man,” he comments, his eyes unfocused, suggesting he’s speaking his thoughts aloud. “He also didn’t get to be the Alpha, as you call him, by keeping his head buried in the sand. Slugger likes taking risks.”

“Seems like it’s me taking all the risk in this instance.” I hate that my voice sounds like a whine. “I’m going in on my own. Wretched Soulz won’t pick up any flack, but the Dominators will love a Soul just delivered into their hands.”

As if I hadn’t said anything, Chaz carries on. “As I said, Slugger’s a risk taker, but he likes to take calculated ones.” He wipes his hand over his head. “You know this club, Brother. We’re all Wretched Soulz, bound by the patch on our backs, but apart from loyalty to that, the charters run as they see fit. We know some aren’t so strict about the treatment of women as we are in Arizona, but wide-scale trafficking isn’t part of our brand. The Dominators are different. They don’t give a damn who they hurt and don’t seem to have any morals.”

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