Page 44 of Scotch: Unraveled

I look to Scourge. “Aye, I’d hate to be in yar shoes right now.” Then I snicker and despite his stone face, I see the way his throat bobs and the bead of sweat trickling down his forehead.

We move him from the van as one unit, not taking any chances that he might try to escape now that there’s no one to save face in front of. He keeps darting his eyes around, scanning the empty field and woods behind the barn as we walk inside. Before Scourge gets a chance to catch his bearings, Crass shoves him face-first into a rusty, metal folding chair. The douche trips over his own feet.

Sure hope he’s up to date on his tetanus shots, as he knocks his head hard enough to ricochet off the seat. There’s a trickle of blood where the skin tore, replacing the sweat. His words come slurred when he spews his bullshite. “E’rybody knows the Lords’re fuckin’ pussies now.”

Crass moves in, picking the fucker up by his hair and the Horde bastard loses it, crying out. Holy shite, I’ve never seen Crass this angry before. I think it has something to do with why he got involved with helping Elise and Liv when their thing with Houdini started and why he eventually transferred chapters, but still. If anyone ever doubted he was a badarse motherfucker, watching him now would change their minds.

“Who’s the pussy now?” Crass grounds out, dropping Scourge in the chair and waiting for him to answer. It’s clear Scourge thinks it’s rhetorical because he doesn’t respond. “I fucking asked you a question,” Crass repeats, bending to get right in his face, and when he still doesn’t answer, Crass presses his thumb into the deepest cut on Scourge’s forehead, pressing and grinding it against the wound.

Scourge cries out, “Stop. Please god, stop.”

But Crass doesn’t stop, digging his thumb in there deeper. “Why’d they take those women?”

When he still doesn’t answer I lose patience, stepping behind the chair to grab his arm. I twist it and bend it back at an unnatural angle. Enough to really hurt, not enough to break it—yet. Carver has his knife out, ready to show our prisoner exactly how he got his nickname, but it never comes to that. With tears rolling down his cheeks and snot bubbling from his nose, whether from the pain he’s already experiencing or the anticipation of what’s to come, he crumbles. “It’s a trap,” he finally says.

“Trap?” Boss asks, stepping closer.

“Rage has us workin’ with that dirty deputy, Rodrick. You been tryin’ to clean up the county…ah!” he cries out. “Stop… please stop.” I may have accidentally twisted his arm a little harder. “He was goin’ after Lord women because he knew y’all would lose your minds, people fuckin’ with your women. He tagged the ginger’s woman as the one to target, seein’ as he ain’t seen him around in a few weeks.”

I begin to lose it and twist his pinky finger until I hear it snap. He doesn’t just cry, he screams. Crass presses harder against the open wound. “Fucking finish,” Crass orders.

“What Rodrick got planned?” Boss asks next.

“He’s expectin’ y’all to invade the warehouse as one unit. Rest of the deputies don’t know Rodrick’s in on this shit. He’s settin’ up a sting. You there with the guns and drugs, he gets the commendations he wants—word is, he’s gunnin’ for the Sheriff position this next election—and he gets rid of the men gettin’ in the way of his money.”

“Fuck!” Boss explodes and turns to storm out of the barn. My guess, he’s heading to talk to Duke. Chaos follows, along with Blood. Duke’s lieutenants.

Crass looks to me. “Better go. I got this. Promise.”

My brothers have my back. They always have my back and even though I don’t sit at the table, it’s my woman and babes on the line; therefore, I earn a say in the rally room. We walk fast and quiet. Not much activity at the clubhouse tonight. Everyone’s on high alert, waiting for the prez to give our orders. We stomp to one of the doors behind the bar. Boss, Chaos, and Blood go in first. I wait outside until I’m summoned, which doesn’t take long. I walk in and take my spot against the wall.

“Can ya keep your shit together?” Duke asks me.

I nod. “Aye, I’ll keep it.” What are my choices?

“I’m thinkin’ those girls’ll be scared. They’ll need their daddy… and Frankie, she needs to know you’ll always come for her.”

“Agreed,” I say.

Chaos speaks up. “How do we go about it?”

“Send me in,” I say. “Me and a couple of brothers. They won’t expect us.”

“Rest of us can spread out in the tree line. We can send in small groups as needed.” Blood waits for Duke’s decision. It won’t be heavily guarded, not if he wants to bring in the Sheriff’s Department to take us out.”

Duke keeps nodding his head as he considers this plan. “I want Crass, Carver, Sneak, and Blue there with ya. Then we’ll have other groups set up, but you don’t need to be in on those. Sneak’ll get ya in. Crass and Blue’ll keep yer shit tight and Carver’s a crazy motherfucker when he needs to be.”

Everything he said is true.

“Callin’ Crass, Blue, and Carver down,” Boss says, pulling his phone from his pocket. “Blaze and Hero can keep an eye on the prisoner ’til we get up there to deal with him. But we’ll need them at the warehouse, so you’ll haveta send a couple brothers up to watch over him once we mobilize.”

We spend the next couple of hours piecing together a plan and making sure every man knows his place so we don’t have any fuckups. Part of the plan involves me and some of the brothers taking the van and the other brothers’ll ride toward the destination in the back of one of the shipping company’s long trailers.

It sucks not being able to ride, but the pipes are too loud and for this to work, we need that element of surprise. We don’t move until it gets dark. Another element of surprise. At dusk, Crass, Blue, Boss, Chaos, and Blood climb in the van with me. Blood drives. The rest of the brothers mount their rides to converge behind the warehouse of the shipping company and will follow as soon as everyone gets loaded.

“Brother, you got your shit together?” Boss asks as we speed down the back state highways crossing the county. How many times they gonna ask this question? Blood doesn’t fuck around. He uses the least-traveled routes to keep us from getting pulled over and alerting Rodrick we’re onto him.

I turn to stare at Boss. “Does my shite not seem together?” The last thing I need is for my brothers to start ragging on me when I feel like I’ve been doing everything to keep myself tight.

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