Page 36 of Trip

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Trip

Trip, Taps, and Pound set their phones on the stainless-steel counter that dominated the center of the basement, before removing their cuts and hanging them on the hooks that ran along the wall. They exchanged their boots for flip-flops.

“You ready?” Pound asked before opening the walk-in freezer and moving toward the back.

“That bastard not only raped my girl, God knows what he did to my sister. He stole ten fucking years from JJ and me. What do you think?” He didn’t have to tell them. They all figured it out, but Trip needed to say it.

Pound nodded.

The industrial kitchen was there when they bought the place. Granite added the modifications. Taps reached behind a box of frozen steaks and activated a hidden panel that popped the shelf forward. Yeah, the irony wasn’t lost on Trip. The steaks were a stroke of genius more than ironic. It was one box that would never be moved or used for any purpose.

They strode into the dark, closing the wall behind them, stepping through to Hotel California.

Luckily, in the years they’d been here, Trip had only found himself in here once before. They solved most problems they had at the Cage, and everyone lived to not tell the tale.

That was not the case this time. Jake wouldn’t be breathing when he left.

Pound flipped the switch, bathing the small area in dingy light. Trip saw the father of his niece and nephew, naked and cuffed to a chair in the center of the room. It was obvious Thunder and Taps kept him company in Trip’s absence.

“Wakey, wakey, hands off snaky,” Taps sing-songed at him while tossing a bucket of water in his face. “Oh, wait, you can’t move your hands and your snaky is a little swollen at the moment. Probably sensitive to touch, huh?”

His voice sounded genuinely sympathetic as he ground the heel of his boot into the man’s dick, eliciting a pained groan. It was obvious from the amount of blood, dirt, cuts, bruises, and God knew what else, this was not the first time Taps had fucked the man up.

Good.

“What do you want with me? I told you I don’t have any money. I can get some though, my ex is loaded.” At the mention of Meri, Trip’s blood ran cold.

Jake’s eyes were swollen shut so he couldn’t see who was in the room. Trip signaled Taps to keep Jake talking. They hadn’t interrogated him since there was no information they wanted, but Trip wanted to see how far the spineless dick would go to save his own skin.

“Oh, yeah?” Taps stepped closer, feigning interest. “I like money. How much are we talking?”

“I don’t know man, she got a settlement when her parents died and invested it wisely. Probably five hundred grand by now. I can tell you where she lives. The house where I was taken, that’s where.”

That dick was sending men willing to torture him to Meri’s house. A house where his own fucking kids lived and for what? Meri’s settlement was small and while she invested wisely, it was nowhere near what he was claiming it to be. He would do anything to save his own skin.

Trip shook his head.

“Not interested, buddy, I got my own money.” Taps stepped on his junk again.

When the steel toe of his boot ground into the man’s abused dick, Trip almost lost it. There was a reason he was the secretary and not the enforcer or sergeant at arms.

“Wait, fuck, just wait a second. What about a girl? You like girls, don’t you?” The room went still. Even the fan seemed to cease blowing air. It was like they all had the same thought, and that thought was no fucking way.

When no one spoke, the fucker smiled. A five tooth, busted lips and swollen-face smile. “I can tell you’re thinking. Maybe you like boys better? Hmm? I can get you a matched set, young and pretty. Just nine years old. Untainted. Twins—”

Pound cut any other vile words the man was going to speak about his kids off with a punch to his face. Trip grabbed the nearest sharp object off the table and lunged forward, knocking Pound out of the way as he drove the ice pick into Jake’s junk and through the metal chair.

A garbled scream cut through the room before Trip slapped his hand over Jake’s mouth.

“You sick, twisted fuck. You would give your kids to men who had no qualms about carving you up and torturing you for days? And you’d sell my sister out to save your sorry, depraved ass.”

Even with his eyes swollen and Trip’s hand over his mouth, it was obvious when Jake realized who was speaking to him.

Jake made a noise that sounded like his name. There was a strange satisfaction in the fact he recognized who was about to end him. Just as he wanted.

“By the way, Jessika sends her regards, you sick bastard. I know what you did, and I’m going to end you for it.” Trip removed his hand. He wasn’t sure why. Maybe he wanted to hear his screams.

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