Page 106 of The Lies We Tell
I hear her scream my name, the fear of it jacking the heart rate I tried so hard to control.
The concrete sound-proofed chamber is clad in old wood to make it look like a derelict building. The floor is ever so gently sloped into a drain in the middle of the floor. Above it is a giant hook. From it dangle two long, heavy-duty wire cables.
King stands in the middle of the room. Thinking about the way they picked us up, I realize it’s the first time I haven’t seen him lead from the front. Usually, Saint has to remind him about how at risk he is. I’m surprised he didn’t come get me himself. The other patched-in members stand around the walls of the room.
I shake free of Niro and walk under my own steam to face King. He stares at me until I’m literally two feet in front of him.
“Thought you could hide?” King says.
“Aren’t we all hiding who we really are in some way?”
He takes a minute to light a cigarette. “Answer the question.”
“No. I needed to give you time to cool down before I could speak with you rationally. And I needed to make right what I’d done.”
He huffs and blows out a ring of smoke. “Make right? How do you make right that you lied to us, Judas?”
Two things hit me. He has seen my messages to Briar, to know the word we used wasJudas. I glance at Vex, who is looking at the ground. And I think about my dad.
Dad would ramble about Judas’s betrayal of Jesus ad nauseam, but one thing always stuck, and I voice it out loud to King. “Judas was not forgiven because he never repented. When I joined the Outlaws, I was lost. I’d spent years literally wandering the desert with the army. The ATF capitalized on that. But it was only here that I found my fucking family. I stopped reporting in. Stopped giving them information. Never shared the weapons drops. But then Briar came into my life, and all I cared about was finding the people who took her. And I knew they’d never see real justice in the current legal system. Abduction charges, sexual assault charges. Shit that goes away with a good lawyer and a clean record. I could only deliver that justice here. So I fixed my reports and evidence the best I could. I’ve quit the ATF.”
“But the ATF have information on us they didn’t have before you joined us, right?” King asks.
I nod. “They do.”
There are mumbles of complaint.
King steps away from me. “You must have something pretty big on Cillian for him to come out in your defense.”
I don’t acknowledge what he says.
“Iron Outlaws, we have a choice. Kill Saint now. Or do the one thing Jesus couldn’t apparently do and forgive our Judas.”
There are a few chuckles at this. Niro is loudest.
I hate that fucker.
“So, now you have to make your choice.” King steps back up to me, but he’s talking to them. “Put twenty grand at his feet. After all, Judas betrayed Jesus for thirty pieces of silver. The money will go to the club for future legal bills as a result of his actions. Or exact a punishment on Saint. Show him what his betrayal means to you.”
Hands begin to slap against the concrete wall.
“At the end, we’ll count. More punishments means he dies. More cash means he can live, and, if he matches the amount of cash himself, at some point in the future, he can re-join the club.” He grips my chin. “Fight back, and the vote counts double.” He turns to the others. “Iron Outlaws. Today be ours.”
There’s cheering like a gladiator fight.
Spark takes my shirt. “Just fucking breathe.”
I can see the pain in his eyes. The man wants to protect everyone. It’s in his nature. “None of this is your fault,” I say.
Niro runs a tattoo parlor, but he’s also a piercing expert. When he steps up with two huge hooks in sterile packs, I feel sick to my stomach.
Spark turns me so my back is to Niro. I draw in a deep breath.
It feels like it takes forever for Niro to decide where the hooks should go.
When the first hook pierces my skin, I drop my head forward. The second is no less painful. I breathe until I start to feel lightheaded. But all worries about my knees collapsing pass into insignificance as Niro connects the cables to the hooks and winds a winch, which slowly lifts me, by the skin, until my toes scrape the floor.
“Judas,” Niro says, and walks away.
