Torched Page 15

  He looked at me suspiciously.

  I laughed at his paranoia and handed him a bottle. “What? You think I’m trying to get you drunk and take advantage of you? Relax, tadpole. Just being a good hostess.”

  “Thanks,” he muttered. “I’ll be on the couch.” With that, he turned on his heels and planted his ass in my living room.

  I shook my head at no one in particular and threw some leftover pizza in the oven to heat up. Dealing with Serpents was hunger-inducing. I was famished.

  A few minutes later, I pulled the pizza out, divided it onto two plates, and made my way to the living room too. I had work to do—a job I’d already put on the backburner over the past week—but that could wait. Ty’s hostile energy was filling the house and we needed to get a few things straight.

  “Here,” I said, handing him the plate. “Don’t worry, I didn’t spit on it.”

  He raised his eyebrow and took the plate. “Didn’t think you did.”

  I plopped on the couch and turned on the TV. “Did you get in trouble?” I asked.

  “For your stupid little stunt? Nope.”

  Awesome, it was like having a conversation with a passive-aggressive child.

  “Listen,” I sighed, “I know you guys don’t like feeling like some chick got one over on you—”

  “Didn’t say that.”

  “Only because you don’t want me telling Torch that you gave me attitude.”

  His icy glare was enough confirmation.

  “Tell you what,” I said, flipping through the guide to look for something decent to watch. “I’ll tell him you were nothing but professional and focused if you get over your bullshit with me. I didn’t have a choice. It was an emergency and I knew you couldn’t interrupt church. That’s against some kind of prospect rules, right?”

  He frowned, clearly losing this argument. “Yeah.”

  “So, what the hell else was I supposed to do? You didn’t get your ass kicked, I didn’t get shot. We’re both winners.”

  He smirked. “I get it… It’s cool.”

  “Good. Now let’s see what kind of trashy shit we can find on TV.”

  His shoulders loosened up a little and he let himself get comfortable, as I settled on some badly-acted Sci Fi movie about killer mutants eating their way through the citizens of San Francisco.

  I could sense him glancing at me and looked over. “Bitches, right?” I asked with a wink.

  He grinned and shook his head in amusement. “You’re alright with me.”

  : 12 :

  “Gang’s all here. Six vehicles, two blocks away,” Biff called out, his eyes glued to Liv’s tablet. “Wish I knew how to do all this shit, it’s so much easier than going in blind.”

  It was mid-afternoon and Torch—along with half of the Serpents army—was waiting in the middle of a warehouse in an industrial part of northeast Denver, their bikes safely out of sight within the insulated steel walls. The others were posted around the perimeter, on the assumption that Maric’s men weren’t so stupid that they’d all come in through a single entry point. They’d be able to see them either way, thanks to the GPS tracker on Jovan’s car and cameras Liv had installed around the property.

  This shit would be cake. Red velvet.

  Torch didn’t know how she’d done it, but one of Jovan’s burner numbers was included in her offering. He’d taken pictures of the crates of AK’s and Sig’s being stored at the warehouse, and sent them off to him.

  They needed all the splintered Kraja members to show, not just a few, so snatching Jovan’s kid and nanny to draw them out had been discussed. In the end—even though none of these assholes cared about the women and kids in Linwood—Buddha made the executive decision to stick to their outlaw code of leaving families out of business. The threat of their pile of guns being stolen would be enough to make them all come running.

  “Four vehicles pulling around the back, two in front,” Biff updated them. “Maric and… six bodies, moving in.”

  Muffled shouts and banging rang out.

  As the garage door went up, Maric strode in, flanked by a three goons on each side, guns drawn. The look of determination fell off his mug when Beanie, Tank, and Jet snuck up behind them and pointed their own weapons. They were effectively surrounded and that little bitch, Jovan, looked like he was about to piss himself when he realized that there were twice as many guns on them than they had on the Serpents. Or maybe he’d just been taken off-guard to see who he was dealing with, since they hadn’t identified themselves on the phone.

  He didn’t get a chance to spew any bullshit before every brother inside swooped in, throwing punches and tossing Serb garbage to the ground where they belonged. Torch grabbed the dirtbag closest to him and kicked him in the nuts, sending him screaming to his knees. He pulled him back up to his feet by the shirt, before sinking a fist into his face. Blood started pouring from his nose and mouth.

  Immobilized, he barely whimpered as Torch rolled him onto his stomach, pulled his arms back, and slapped zip ties around his wrists. He kicked him in the kidneys for good measure.

  Elf, Chew, Monk, and Bird dragged in the ones they’d fucked up outside and tied them up too.

  Within seconds, the only Serb left standing was Maric himself—now unarmed with his hands tied behind his back—looking about twenty shades paler than when he’d first walked in.

  “I take it you know who we are,” Buddha said as he holstered his piece and walked up to him.

  Jovan didn’t seem to be in the mood for polite formalities. “What the fuck is this?” he growled.

  “You know exactly what it is, you fucking piece of shit,” Buddha hissed. “Did you honestly think you’d take down my club and hurt my town?”

  “I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”

  “Yeah,” Buddha smirked, “bet you have a real short memory now. You know who has an excellent memory though? Viktor Maric. I think you two are related, right?”

  “Fuck you,” Jovan seethed. “Viktor’s past his prime, just like your little club.”

  “Our little club, huh?” Squid piped up. “Might wanna look around, dipshit.”

  Jovan’s eyes narrowed. “What are you going to do? Kill us all… here… in the middle of the day? Might be hard carrying out so many bodies on your… what do you call them? Hogs?”

  Buddha pulled a suppressor from inside his cut and started screwing it on his piece with a smile. “Unlike you, we planned a little ahead. Don’t you worry, we’ve never had a problem moving corpses before. But see, I have dinner plans tonight and I’m wearing my good shirt, so I’d rather not show up late covered in your bodily fluids. No,” he shook his head and casually waved the gun, “I think we could try talking our way to an understanding first. Why don’t you start by telling me why you need us out of the way. What’s your game here, Jovan?”

  “I’m not saying shit.”

  “That would be a mistake,” Torch warned.

  This was how the motherfucker was going to play this? By playing dumb? Stupid fucking move.

  He walked up to Maric and slammed him in the temple with his fist, hard enough to hurt but not render him useless. “Let’s try again. I don’t think you wanna push your luck. We’re not very patient men.”

  Maric stared him down defiantly, his jaw clenched shut.

  So be it, they could do this the hard way.

  Torch snapped his fingers at Mace, who got a giddy twinkle in his eye. He pulled out his knife and a lighter, then used the flame to heat up the blade. Oh, he was giddy alright, Mace lived for this shit. Once the metal was toasty and glowing red, he knelt down next to one of the Serbs and held the blade close to the asshole’s ear. “How about you, motherfucker?” Mace growled, “Do you know why your boss is starting a war he can’t win?”

  “Fuck you,” the unlucky fella huffed.

  A smile crept across Mace’s face. “Fuck me? That’s not a very nice thing to say.” He pulled the guy’s head back by the hair, shoved the kn
ife into the poor bastard’s ear, and twisted.

  His screams of pain were so loud and hideous that every sphincter in the room had to have puckered. Fortunately for Mace’s victim, it wasn’t long before the tip of the blade reached far enough in his brain to kill. Blood pooled out onto the concrete floor.

  Maric didn’t even flinch. He fucking laughed.

  “You think this shit’s funny, huh?” Buddha asked.

  “I think you underestimate my men’s loyalty,” he snapped.

  Buddha chuckled at his unrelenting stupidity. “You underestimate my mens’ ability to cause pain. We have all day to play. Unfortunately, not all my guys have Mace’s precision. Sometimes they get sloppy.”

  That wiped the smug grin off the bastard’s face. Torch swore he could see Maric’s nose twitching. He was a gangster though, born and raised, and it would take more than the threat of watching his boys suffer to break him.

  “Do your best,” he huffed.

  “Challenge accepted!” Grimm yelled out, holding up a pair of pliers in one hand and a rusty hacksaw in the other. He gleefully scoured the floor for his own human plaything.

  “That’s too bad,” Buddha said, patting Maric on the back. “But looks like we’re in for a fun day.”

  Zed walked up to Torch, kicking every scrotum in his path. “You ready?” he asked.

  Maric looked back and forth between the two of them, probably expecting to be tag-teamed. But they weren’t going to kill him, they were about to do much, much worse.

  Torch gave Maric’s shoulder a squeeze. “Wish we could stay, buddy, but I’m a little low on cash and need to get rid of some junk. Know any good pawn shops in town?”

  Maric’s face fell.

  : : : :

  A bell chimed as they walked into ZZ’s Pawnshop. The shithole smelled of cigar smoke and moth balls. It could have used a remodel about forty years ago, but Torched doubted that the owner, Viktor Maric, gave a rat’s ass about interior decorating. The place existed for the sole purpose of being a front and meeting place for the Kraja.

  Unfortunately for Viktor, they hadn’t come bearing good news.

  “Can I help you, gentlemen?” he asked with a slight Slavic accent from behind the counter. He had an intimidating presence for sure, it probably scared away half the legit customers he could have snagged in the area.

  Maric eyed them suspiciously, his right hand behind his back, presumably on a gun.

  “We’re just here to talk,” Torch said, opening his cut to show that he wasn’t armed. He was, in an ankle holster, but that was neither here nor there.

  Maric nodded and pulled his hand back around. “What about?”

  “Jovan,” Zed spoke up. “Your idiot grandson.”

  Maric scowled and crossed his arms over his chest. “What about Jovan?”

  “Well, we have a little problem with your boy,” Torch said as he picked up a stack of vintage baseball cards and spread them out over the counter. “Apparently he’s gotten into business with a man named Pierce Masters—”

  “Masters you say? I don’t know him. What kind of business?”

  “Seems the two of them concocted a plan to attack my club at a community event this weekend, no regard for the innocent men, women, and children attending. You know we can’t let that slide. My men are holding him and his crew right now—”

  “Holding him? What crew?”

  “Well, your precious heir isn’t just doing business behind your back, he’s recruiting your own people. Fifteen formerly loyal Kraja that we know of. Here,” he said, handing over his phone, “see for yourself.”

  Viktor scowled as he watched the exchange they’d just recorded in Jovan’s warehouse, but didn’t say anything, probably trying not to give away the fact that he was just now finding out that he’d been betrayed. When the short clip ended, he placed the phone down on the counter and leaned on his elbows, his eyes bulging like they were about to explode from their fucking sockets. “Goddamn it,” he muttered through his teeth.

  Torch slid the phone back in his pocket. “We’re working on finding out what exactly they’re trying to accomplish. And who’s paying for it. Looks like Masters is their go-between.”

  Maric looked like a combination of pissed off, faint, and confused as fuck. He pulled it together and stood back up to face them. “I didn’t know about any of this. The Kraja and your club have never had problems. I don’t—”

  “Listen, we know that this isn’t a Kraja move,” Zed assured him. “As far as we’re concerned, Jovan’s acting on his own and we’re dealing with it accordingly. Just thought you deserved a courtesy head’s up. We’d want to know about this kind of betrayal.”

  Maric nodded. “I’m grateful you came here. Where is my grandson now?”

  “An undisclosed location,” Torch told him. “I’m sure you understand that we need information before we let him go. Unfortunately, we can’t let them all go. It would set a bad example.”

  Viktor cracked his knuckles and stretched out his neck. Yeah, Jovan was completely fucked. “Gentlemen, I apologize for this. I can assure you the Kraja has no interest in provoking violence between our families.”

  “Then you need to reel that asshole in. Trust me, a war won’t end well. And now that you’re informed, anything Jovan does will be considered Kraja-sanctioned. Understood?”

  Maric nodded. “Understood. I am in your club’s debt. Just one request—”

  “What’s that?”

  “Do what you must with the others. In my eyes, they’re dead. But bring Jovan back alive. I want to deal with him myself.”

  Torch nodded and reached out to shake the man’s hand. “We can do that.”

  Viktor said he wanted his grandson alive, he hadn’t said they couldn’t make him bleed.

  : 13 :

  Friday afternoon rolled around and I was busy trying to catch up on some work. I’d pissed away the better part of a week dealing with the Serpents mess. Not that I had any regrets, but I was beyond behind.

  Ty had been called away late that morning, presumably because the club had taken care of the problem in their own way. I could use my imagination and didn’t ask questions. He seemed relieved to be off babysitting duty, but it wasn’t like he’d had it that bad lounging on my couch and eating the contents of my entire fridge. I hadn’t even given him a lick of shit after we came to our understanding, but I knew he was probably itching to be with his boys and in the middle of the action. I was just glad to have my space back.

  My home was off-limits to everyone, except Lexi and Neil on the random occasions they decided to visit. It was weird to have someone there, awake and just watching. Not bad weird, just uncomfortable weird. I didn’t know whether I’d hear from Torch or the club again, but it would be just as well if I didn’t. I was still convinced that nothing good could come of me getting tangled up in their web, or them in mine.

  I was definitely planning on a date with my vibrator that night to orgasm him out of my system.

  Two pots of coffee later, I’d made good progress. I tended to do better under pressure anyway. If a deadline was too far out, I usually dicked around until it turned into crunch time. The damn internet always beckoned. I had a weakness for Wikipedia, sometimes spending hours just hitting the “Random Article” button. It wasn’t that I liked stress, I just happened to thrive on it for whatever reason. And I enjoyed accumulating useless knowledge while procrastinating.

  My eyes were glazing over, the code I could write in my sleep starting to look like Swahili, when a high-pitched alarm broke me from my stupor. The perimeter motion sensors were going off, signaling that someone was coming down my secluded driveway.

  I flipped over to the security feed and saw a silver sedan crawling up to the house. Who the hell would just be showing up? It wasn’t Ty, he’d be on a bike. And Lexi or Neil would have called.

  Shit.

  I stayed low and sprinted across the living room to grab a Glock 19 I kept stashed under a couch cushion
. I also pulled a switchblade from a secret compartment in the coffee table, and tucked it into my bra, before slithering to the bay window by my front door.

  Pulling the curtain back an inch, I watched as the car came to a stop. Both of the front doors opened and out came a familiar head of blonde hair from the passenger side.

  Lexi.

  Goddamn it, she knew better. By the time I stood back up and hid the gun and blade in an entrance closet, they were walking up the front steps, with little Chloe in Neil’s arms.

  Yes, they’d named their kid after my old self, something that had initially horrified me. But they’d explained that their Chloe would bring honor back on the moniker, and she’d be every bit as independent and strong as they claimed I was.

  “Auntie Livie!” Chloe squealed as I opened the door. Neil put her down and she flew the rest of the way, almost knocking me over as I bent down to scoop her up.

  “Hi lovebug,” I said, squeezing the shit of my favorite little person. I didn’t know what her parents bathed her in, but she always smelled like cotton candy. Sickeningly sweet, just like her personality. Over her golden curls, I scowled at Lexi and Neil. “You two almost got s-h-o-t,” I spelled out.

  “Sorry, honey,” Lexi apologized as she hugged me around Chloe. “Surprise?” I swear that smile of hers could light up and already bright room. I could never stay mad at her, not that she was actually sorry.

  “I told her ass to call you,” Neil grumbled, shaking his head. He leaned over to kiss me on the cheek. “But you know my trouble-making wife. She recruited my kid to join in on this plan to surprise you and it was all over.”

  “It’s cool, I’m really glad you guys are here,” I assured him.

  “No, it’s not cool,” he argued. “We need to hurry up and make a boy. I’m tired of being outnumbered.”

  Lexi smacked him in the arm, causing Chloe to dissolve in a fit of giggles.

  “See? Teaching our girl to beat up on men. Nice, right?”

  “I don’t like boys, daddy!” Chloe exclaimed. “I want a sissy.”