Page 19 of A Wrench in the Plan
“Speaking of this club that you’re so proud to belong to…” I stood and narrowed my eyes in his direction. “I was just wondering why I don’t see a single one of them rushing in here to save you. Could it be because they don’t even know we got you? Nah, that’s probably not it. I bet it’s ’cause they don’t even fucking care.”
He didn’t open his mouth, but the way his nostrils flared wide let me know I’d hit a nerve.
Grabbing a fist full of his greasy hair, I tilted his head back until he had no choice but to look into my eyes.
“I’m gonna find them,” I promised him. “And I’m gonna take them out one by one. You think you’ve had it bad?” A dark chuckle rolled past my lips as I pulled out my blade. “I’m gonna slice them up one little piece at a time.”
I slowly carved a crescent shape into his cheek, digging the blade under the skin once I was done. Hearing him cry out in pain and fear should have done something for me, but I was growing tired of messing with this asshole. I was ready to end him and move on.
He hadn’t given us anything. Not where his club was hiding out. Not what he’d told his club about us. Not even a reason why he’d set fire to the bar.
And I was starting to think that he wasn’t going to break. Which actually surprised me.
“I’m gonna save your brother for last,” I went on. “Let him see his Prez get taken out, his brothers. Tell him how we kept you chained up for days while my brothers took turns pounding on your body. Let him take his last breath knowing that his club will die with him and that there was nothing he could do to stop it.”
Releasing him, I took a step back. My spine lengthened as I stared down at him, letting him see the freedom I had. Reminding him of how badly he’d fucked up. Rubbing it in his face that there was no way out.
“Anything?” LT asked as he walked up behind me.
With my eyes on the fucker in front of me, I shook my head.
“We about done with him, then?” The tone of LT’s question told me he already knew the answer. Maybe this was a little bit for show, but whatever. If it scared the piss out of Baby just one last time, I’d fuckin’ take it.
“I’d say so.”
“You want this one?” he asked.
“Yeah, Prez. I want this one,” I told him, dragging my hands down the thighs of my jeans, wiping off the drying, semi-tacky blood that coated them without a fuckin’ care. I turned my eyes back to Baby before talking again. “But first, I’m feeling a big steak. Might watch some TV. Take a late-night ride on my bike later on. Thinking a couple of beers might be nice, too.”
LT slapped me on the back and I didn’t have to look at him to know he was shaking his head at me.
“Give him another day to sit there and think about all the ways I could end him,” I said, smirking at Baby. “Hell, if he’s nice and gives me something that I’m looking for, might just put a bullet between his eyes as a thank you.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Cat
“Chry?” I said softly when I found him alone in the lot between the two buildings. He was sitting on top of a picnic table, and even though his back was facing me, I could easily tell that he was holding his head in his hands. “You okay?”
Without looking up, he gave a shake of his head. His dark brown hair flopped around, and even though I could tell he was not doing so great, I couldn’t stop taking in how the late afternoon sun danced off his strands.
As I circled the table, it was hard to miss how swollen his knuckles were. They appeared to be showing signs of bruising, too.
Though I tried my best not to be alone with Chry, there were times when I couldn’t avoid it. Whether he liked to admit it or not, Chry could be needy. Given all of the things that had happened recently, I couldn’t blame him. I was happy to be there for him when Evan couldn’t. I mean, that was how friendship worked, right? I knew that if I ever needed anything, Chry would drop everything and come running. So, it wasn’t all one-sided.
Right now, Chry clearly needed someone. I wasn’t sure what was going on, but if Evan was texting me to check up on him, then I knew there was something major.
There had been whispers around the club and at home. I’d caught little bits and pieces of those whispers, but with the fire at the bar and the bruises I’d noticed on Sparrow’s neck not too long ago, I knew it was bad. The tension that had been hanging around the club had become suffocating the last couple of days. It was like I couldn’t escape it, not even at home.
“What’s wrong?” I asked. I slowly scooted closer to the table. I smoothed the back of my skirt in that way Row always made fun of me for before I took a seat beside him. “What do you need?”
“I don’t know,” he said, head still in his hands.
I bumped my shoulder against his but stayed silent.
This was one of those times where talking would only make Chry shut down. Mostly because he didn’t know what was going on inside of him, or how to explain it.
I had a paper to write. I should have been heading home and diving into that now that I’d finished helping Mom with meal prep for the club’s dinner tomorrow. It was due in three days and I had zilch so far. Matter of fact, I swore I wasn’t going to even talk to Chry or Evan tonight. Did I tell Evan any of this when he texted me? No. I would never. All ideas of being responsible flew out the window when Evan asked a favor, and more importantly, when that favor had something to do with Chry.
