Page 62 of Devil's Due: Sarge

“Wrong answer.” Instead of hitting him again, I whip out my piece and fire a shot into his thigh. By this stage of the game, I know where a body can take a bullet and not die. I know where the major arteries run. But I also know how to make a man hurt. He wails like a goddamn baby. “Now, tell me about the women.”

When he gets control over his sobbing, he no longer has a smart mouth, though he still refuses to answer, shaking his head no.

“No? Not smart, man.” I grind my thumb into his fresh bullet wound and the man—no, I can’t call him a man, not now—he pisses his pants. A wet patch spreads over the fly of his pants and onto the legs. “How do…” I press again, causing him to whimper, then I ease up. “You know…” Another press and ease up once he whimpers. “About the women?” All it takes is for me to lift my thumb one more time to get him to break.

Pussy.

“He got a hold of me… well before he talked with my dad. He… He… wanted Greer. Not only would it clear us from any culpability, but…” He sniffs, lifting his bound hands to swipe at his face. “The amount of money he offered me to find her I couldn’t pass up. That was when I realized how much more lucrative dealing with women would be to my personal bank account—and how much easier. Artwork is high profile.” He coughs then wipes at his face again. “But women disappear all the time.”

“You fucking—” I aim at his head, ready to blow his brains out when the whole room, the whole world goes silent from one whispered word.

“Don’t.”

None of us heard her come in here, we were all so caught up in the situation before us.

“How’d you get in here?” I bark. “How’d you even know how to find this room?”

She shrugs, like her being here is nothing. “Followed you.”

“Club business, Greer,” Vlad reprimands her.

“No.” She shakes her head vigorously. “This ismybusiness,” she says, only having eyes for me. “Iwas the one sold.” Her thumb hits her breastbone with surprising force that I bet hurt. “Iwas the one who watched my friends die.Iwas the one who fought for her life.” Then she stalks over to me and leans in. “AndI’mthe one with those scared, injured women everyfuckingday. Now I don’t care what happens to him once we’re done, but he hasn’t answered our question yet.”

And, oh—fuck, Greer steps around me, bends down to get in her sniveling stepbrother’s face and presses her thumb into his thigh wound, grinding it over and over. The man screams. Over his scream, she sets her face and asks, “Where are the women?”

“Fuck,” Dark mumbles.

“That’s hot,” comes from Rough.

“You want a man named Kuznetsova,” the man coughs out, wincing. Russian. Dammit, are we seriously dealing with the Russians now? “One woman…” Pausing, he sucks in a sharp breath. “Went to Saudi Arabia.” After a couple more harsh breaths, he continues. “One to a man in Australia… but the others… there’s a list. A master list.”

Greer turns to me. “Don’t kill him. He’s going to help us get those women back. He has the connections. Now, I’m going to call my stepfather,” she says, pushing up to press a kiss to my lips, then she struts her fine ass out of the room.

I should be mad. No—I should bepissed. A woman doesn’t walk into the Horde holding room and tell us how to deal with our prisoner, but in reality, I’m in awe. She’s right. It was about her. Dammit, she’s stronger than I ever even imagined. “Seems you’ve got a guardian angel,” I say to the prick.

“See that he gets patched up. Meet in twenty,” Vlad barks out his order as he follows me out. Once we’re clear of the room, he stops me with a hand to my arm. “This shit got so much bigger than our club, brother.”

“I know. But it’s not just my woman. Yours is involved as well. Calling the Lords in?”

“Yeah, but I need you to get with your man Carter. He needs to dig. We make the commitment to go in, we won’t be free of this shit for a long time to come.”

“I know that, too. How can we not? How can we sleep at night? How are you going to fuck Nic, how am I fucking Greer, knowing there’re men still out there wanting to take them from us?”

His jaw clenches hard enough to chip his teeth, and he nods before walking away. He’s going to his woman, exactly as I’m going to mine. God, how I need her.

23

Greer

When I get back inside the clubhouse from the outbuilding on the back of the property—an outbuilding that I only found out today they used as a holding room for men they intend to hurt, maim or kill—I’m positively shaking.

The kid, the prospect whose name I haven’t actually learned yet, everyone seems to call him “Kid,” so that’s how I know him. And it’s not like I’ve gone out of my way to learn his name, either. It’s icky the way he always has a wink or a kiss to blow on standby anytime he’s seen me since the day he overheard me blowing Sarge. Today he’s behind the bar.

“Jack,” I order. “And I’ll run a knife through your heart if you wink or blow me a kiss.”

He smiles uncomfortably, almost as if he’s unsure whether or not to trust that I’ll go through with it, turning slowly to grab a glass and the bottle of Jack off the shelf.

“Three,” I snap. As in three fingers. “No ice.”

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