Page 53 of Torch
“Well, he was just about to tell us why the FUCK he came after our women.”
Ryder glanced at me as I took up position beside him, resting against the cool concrete wall.
“They all still out there?” He whispered, and I nodded grimly.
“Guess they’re all kind of invested too. This isn’t fucking real, right?”
Ryder patted my shoulder.
“I wish, man.”
“Okay, so let’s start at the beginning, asshole.Why. Why the fuck are you messing with the club, and our old ladies?”
Micro snorted, looking around at us like he wasn’t in the dangerous situation he was in. Like he wasn’t in the last room he might ever see. Like he had some form of control over this entire situation.
“This fucking club is an abomination, but you already know that.”
The fuck? I glanced at Ryder and saw him looking just as confused as I felt. Abomination? This club?
“What’s up, man, not enough crime for you? You wanted some sick, lawless shit like the old club?”
Micro practically growled at Ice, pulling at the bonds on his arms. He was tied really firmly to that chair, his legs bound to the front legs, and his arms tied to the arms, but it was only a wooden chair, and it wouldn’t necessarily hold if he went nuts.
“The old club was worth a million of this fucking joke of an MC. You think this is better? You’re dumber than I thought, but maybe that’s because the drugs have eaten that tiny fucking brain of yours.”
Silence fell in the wake of his words. The old club? The lawless, twisted, violent club that Reacher and Stitch had been forced to shut down and rebuild? Was he serious? He’d only been with this club two years, only patched for one of those, so how the fuck did he even know anything about the old club?
Reacher scratched at his jaw, glancing at Stitch, where they seemed to have some kind of silent conversation.
“What do you know about the old club? It was run by a sadistic asshole, who took pleasure in brutalising women, and killing anyone who disagreed with him.”
“FUCK YOU!” Micro was practically spitting with fury now, and that made no sense, unless somehow he was attached to the old club in some way. He was too young to have been a member, but what if someone he knew was in it?
“Pres,” I stepped forward, and Reacher shot me a frustrated glare.
“Kinda in the middle of something here, Torch.”
I nodded, because don’t we all fucking know it?
“Ask him about his connection to the old club. I have a suspicion he’s avenging someone or something.” Reacher’s eyes widened and he groaned.
“Fuck me. Of course that’s what it is. If I wasn’t running on fumes, I’d have figured that one out for myself.”
He turned to Micro, who had a sneer back on his face.
“Tell me about your father, Micro.”
Grace
Theyweretalkingtooquietly at first for us to hear, so Tori had carefully edged the door open a crack, and we were all crowded around it. When the question about Micro’s father was raised, it seemed to be the tipping point, because Micro barked out a laugh.
“I’d applaud you for finally finding a fucking brain cell at last, but I seem to be a bit tied up at the moment. This club was something back then. Before you two pissed all over his fucking legacy. He was a real president. He ran this club with an iron fist, and it was supposed to be mine!”
There was mumbling on the other side of the door, and then Ice suddenly cursed out loud. The door was suddenly wrenched open, and he reached for Lissa, tugging her into the room, but keeping her as far from Micro as he could. Since the door was now open, we loitered in plain view of the bastard in the chair.
“Your father, Micro? You mean that sick fuck, Leif?” Lissa gasped, pressing one hand over her mouth, as she stared at us with wide eyes. What the hell were we missing now?
Micro chuckled quietly. “Yeah. He was the real fucking deal, but you lot are pussies. I was meant to take over, but you fucking murdered him!”
