Page 69 of Cougar

“Yeah, fuck.”

I turn toward his voice. My eyes widen in shock. Sandy’s wrists are tied together with rope. I follow the trail, and he is literally hanging from the rafter. All because he loves me. If I had only stayed away from him, he wouldn’t be here right now.

I know they couldn’t care less about me, but I didn’t think they would treat their own brother like this. Their claim to this town is being a family. How can they treat their family like this? I can’t ponder this right now. I need to get him to listen to me. I turn as much as I can, trying to see who’s in the room with us. Over by the doors, Rambo and Willie are talking quietly to themselves.

It’s now or never.

“Sandy. Sandy, baby. I need you to listen to me, please. I know you’re hurting. I know it’s my fault, but I’m not the bad guy here. I promise I’m not. Please, ba—”

“No. You don’t get to call me that. You don’t get to take the word I held so close to my heart and use it further against me. Fuck you!”

I sigh, “I know I’ve been lying, but when it comes to you and me, none of that was a lie. Not a single moment.”

“Except your fucking name! You’re a fucking piece of shit, Mallard. You told me your name is Whitley, and I fucking believed you. I’m a fucking fool. I let my dick, and then my heart win out, and look where it’s fucking gotten me!” He shouts, turning his head away from me.

I keep attempting to explain after that. Well, explain as much as I can. I don’t know where we’re at with the case, and even though I’ve thought about walking away, I know I can’t. I know we need to solve it, as much as my heart isn’t in it, but I can’t do that if I tell him everything.

But maybe you should. Look at him.

I can’t. I can’t look because all I see is betrayal and pain. The pain I’ve caused from attempting to do the right thing.

“Fuck!”

The shout causes us both to look over at Rambo and Willie. Both of them are pissed, yet it’s obvious they’re trying not to break down. They both come over to us. While Willie stops near Sandy, Rambo doesn’t stop until his fist, once again, connects with my stomach. The air rushes out of me, and before I can inhale, his other fist connects with the side of my face.

“You mother fucker. Someone you know killed Storm.”

“What?” I hear Sandy cry out.

Rambo turns toward him, and from the small fraction of his face I can still see, he’s seething. “Yeah. Turns out, the shot that your dirty ass cop of a fucking boyfriend’s associate took was fatal. Storm’s brain dead. They’re giving him twenty-four hours before the plug is pulled.”

“I don’t know anything about that!” I shout. It’s not only the truth, but I want him away from Sandy. I could tell he was ready to take a swing at him and do damage.

“Please. Do you think I’m going to believe a single fucking word you say? How you conveniently found Aletta and Mallory, but the guy ran away? Fuck you! Who the hell is he?” he asks me as he punches me in my kidneys in rapid-fire succession.

Spitting out blood, I tell him the only truth I can. “I…don’t know…who it was. I had to choose…The girls or him. I chose…the…girls.” It’s already hard to get words out, and I know he’s only getting started. When I look him in the eye, trying to show him I’m not lying, he turns toward Willie, giving him a nod.

Before either Sandy or I can react, Willie’s fist connects with his face. Right, left. Left, right.

“Stop!” I shout. I know it’s useless, but I will beg until they do. “He didn’t do anything wrong. Please. I’m not lying. I don’t know who the man was. He was too far away.”

Rambo’s fist clenches again, and I can tell he’s about to hit me. Willie gives Sandy one more good hit, this time to his gut before a phone ringing stops them. Rambo lets out a deep breath and pulls his out of his pocket. Nodding to Willie, they head back toward the doors. I turn to my love and once again attempt to plead with him.

“Sandy, please. I need you to trust me,” I whisper to him. I get nothing more than a snort in reply. His eyes roll, and he turns to watch Rambo and Willie. “Baby, please trust me. Nothing is what it seems. Nothing other than my love for you, but I can’t explain it all right now. I want to. I’ve wanted to, but I can’t. Please. I need you, and I need you to just. Trust. Me.”

He lobs his head back in my direction, and I feel a spark of hope he’s going to say something to me other than telling me to fuck off. His mouth opens, but whatever he is about to say is drowned out.

The front doors slide open, and in walk three members I haven’t seen since they disappeared in the cover of the night. If I remember correctly, their names are Dizz, Angel, and Omen. But I wasn’t too familiar with Omen. He very well could be someone else standing there. They all look at me, but then their gazes turn toward Sandy. It’s as if all of their eyes were filled with gasoline, and Sandy is the match that just lit them on fire. They all exchange a couple of words before they shift their focus back to me.

Fuck my life.

Dizz is who steps up to me—stopping a few steps away. I chance a quick glance at Sandy, and his eyes widen. Looking back at Dizz, I see him pulling black gloves out of his pocket. The faint “no” from my side is the only thing to warn me I’m utterly fucked.

“Well, Mallard. Long time no see. Seems you couldn’t infiltrate the ranks of the police station, so you came in and went after one of our own,” he starts, and I focus on the last part of what he said. If they consider him one of theirs still, that should mean he’s safe. If I get every ounce of pain, it will be worth it if Sandy doesn’t have to feel it anymore. “Luckily for you, I can’t kill you. However, I can tenderize you while we wait for the rest of my family to get here.”

I chose that moment to make eye contact and wish I hadn’t. I can’t explain it other than it’s something paranormal. Black encases his eyes. He’s shifted into this…whatever he is. He’s standing next to men who are bigger than him and, at first glance, actually terrifying. He’s putting each and every one of them to shame.

“Shit,” I let out.

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