Torched Page 30
: 25 :
“Who the fuck’s gonna eat all this yogurt?” Toto huffed.
I rolled my eyes. “The girls. Who incidentally won’t die of malnutrition like the rest of you macho knuckleheads.”
Jet walked up to my cart carrying a stack of frozen pizzas and dropped them in. “Here. These have vegetables on ‘em, Mom.”
“I’m pretty sure meat isn’t a vegetable,” I pointed out.
Jet shrugged. “There’s tomato sauce under it. That counts.”
I shook my head and kept trudging toward the snack aisle, the two clowns who Torch had assigned to help me following behind, throwing whatever random shit suited their fancy into their own carts. I had no idea how the fuck it was all going to fit in my car, considering they’d insisted we hit up the liquor store first. You know, for the important stuff. The interior was completely full of beer and liquor.
It had only been four days since Torch asked me to be his old lady, but things had moved in warp speed from the minute we woke up the next morning. By the time I’d finished my coffee, Ty was already at the house with a van, ready to load up whatever necessities I pointed to. I immediately fell back on old habits and sniped at Torch for assuming I’d want to move in, but he shut me down with one vexed look, reminding me that he’d already made way more concessions than he should have and his dick wasn’t hard enough to make him budge.
Once in Linwood, he also refused to budge on the matter of babysitters. Insisting that there might be a threat from whoever was supplying the town with Black Zombie, he talked me into agreeing to take a couple guys with me whenever I left the property without him.
Fuck an adjustment period, this was going to be trial by fire.
But whatever, the Mitch deal with still in place, and with Torch running around with the rest of the club trying to find Hess and his stash house, I’d had plenty of time to crack every single offshore account Bastien had given me.
This afternoon, the rest of the guys were at the clubhouse discussing their next move. I’d been able to get surveillance photos of Hess based on the dates Masters had given them. Unfortunately, nobody recognized him and the plates were stolen. I’d tried to follow his car’s routes, but always landed at dead-ends in alleys or private parking garages, places that either didn’t have cameras, or they did but I had no way of finding out which server or cloud account housed the right software. Lacking any other information except a name—probably a pseudonym—and face, there really wasn’t much else I could do. For all any of us knew, this drug wasn’t even being cooked in town.
So, they were doing their thing and strategizing, while I’d volunteered to go stock up on supplies in case we went on lockdown, meaning that the club’s women and kids would be forced to stay inside the gates until whatever was going on could be resolved. The patched members could come and go to carry out business, but only in groups. From what I heard, lockdowns were rare, but there was a chance the shit they were dealing with could get ugly quick, depending on how deep the Zombie network ran. None of them had forgiven or forgotten the fact that the Serbs had wanted to completely take them out.
Speaking of the Serbs, I couldn’t find anything linking them to the infiltration. The whole thing was fucking bizarre and really well-executed considering how little time there would have been to regroup after they were side-lined. I’d pointed out that fact to Torch, concluding that the investor mostly likely had a back-up crew and plan on standby.
But, I wasn’t thinking about any of that right now, I was thinking about where the hell we’d fit all the candy bars Jet had cleared off the shelf at the last minute of check-out. The guys followed me out to my car and we went to work stuffing things in every nook and cranny, most of the candy and smaller items getting tossed among the liquor despite my protests. I didn’t know who the fuck would be unloading this mess, but it sure as shit wouldn’t be me. That was what prospects were for, right?
After we filled the car to the brim—leaving me without a rear view—Toto and Jet hopped on their bikes and followed me back to the clubhouse. I would never have admitted it to Torch, but I actually didn’t mind the arrangement. Hearing a pair of pipes close by gave me a feeling of security that I hadn’t had in a long time. Well, ever.
Not to mention that I wouldn’t have to change my own tire if I ever got a flat.
But about three blocks away from the clubhouse, a flat tire was the least of my concerns. I noticed a black van pulling in behind us in my side mirror. In this industrial side of town, on a Sunday, I’d never seen anyone not associated with the Serpents.
I rolled down my window for a clearer view and kept my eyes on the van and the guys behind me. They were both checking over their shoulders too.
Something wasn’t right. I sped up, the gates to the compound now in sight, but the van closed in twice as fast.
Without warning, it crossed over the line and immediately arced back over, slamming into both Toto and Jet with one strike. Both went flying into the air.
“Fuck!” I couldn’t see where they’d landed, all the shit in my car blocking the back window, so I hit my brakes to avoid hitting them.
The smell of burning rubber filling my nose, I looked across the loaded passenger seat and realized there was no way I could climb out. I reached between the seat and center console for my Glock.
It slipped from my hand as shots rang out and my side mirror exploded, sending shards of glass and plastic in my face. The blast was so loud that my ears felt like they were bleeding.
Before I had a chance to reach down to my ankle holster, the door flew open and a pair of arms pulled me out.
I kicked and screamed, but instead of just one masked man, there were six. Two of them grabbed me by the arms and legs, one held a piece of fabric over my nose and mouth to muffle me, and the others pointed what looked like AK’s at my head.
I tried to look around as they carried me toward the van. All I could make out were a pair of legs on the ground in front of my car, one of them bent at the wrong angle.
No! No, no no! I screamed in my own head, where no one could hear it.
Before I knew it, I couldn’t see anything either.
: : : :
The only thing Torch remembered about that moment was listening to Buddha talk about installing cameras all around town one second, and the sound of crumpling metal and rapid gunfire the next.
After that, he could feel his feet moving, but the top half seemed to just float, leading twenty sprinting men out of the clubhouse.
They followed the source of the commotion and ran out through the front gates. He looked to the right. Nothing.
He looked down the street to the left and saw it a block away, the scene that would send his life spiraling into chaos. Laying on the ground was Toto, on the other side of the street, Jet, and behind them was Liv’s car with the door open.
He reached Toto first, his right leg completely mangled and covered in blood. As he was checking his pulse—thank fuck he had one— Zed came skidding over.
Torch let him take over and lurched toward the car, pulling the driver’s side door completely open.
She wasn’t there.
Like anything else could fucking fit the way they’d packed, but he ducked inside and checked anyway.
But she was fucking gone. Liv was fucking gone.
He could hear Zed and Biff both yelling that Toto and Jet were still alive and for somebody to call a fucking ambulance, when he spotted a drop of wet blood on the center console.
No.
God, no.
This wasn’t fucking happening.
He scrambled over to Jet, who had his eyes open. “Where the fuck is she?!” But Jet could barely talk, so Torch knelt down and slapped his cheek. “Come on, brother, know you’re hurting, but fucking talk to me!”
“A van…” he croaked.
“A van what? Come on, man, stay with me.”
“Ambush… Six masks…” That was all he managed to say before his eyes cl
osed and he passed out.
“No!” Torch bellowed, standing back up and cursing the fucking sky. He doubled back and started pounding his palms on the car window.
“Tyke, get it out of here. Paramedics are on the way,” he heard Buddha yell out from behind him, before he and Mace grabbed Torch and pulled him away.
He couldn’t stand, his legs just went out beneath him. Buddha and Mace both wrapped their arms around his shoulders and held him back as Ty got in the car and drove off.
“We’re gonna find her, son,” Buddha declared. “Don’t you fucking worry, we’re gonna find your woman and tear these motherfuckers apart. You hear me?”
He wanted to fucking believe him, he really did, but he couldn’t see past the scene. “There’s blood, man…”
“Just blood, brother. If they wanted her dead, there’d be a body,” Mace assured him.
“She’s a strong one, Torch. She’ll fight to stay alive,” Buddha added.
“That’s exactly what I’m scared of, she’ll fight ‘til they get tired of it and kill her. I told her I’d fucking protect her! I gave her my fucking word!”
Buddha squeezed his arm. “You’re gonna keep your word. We’re gonna find her.”
Yeah? Was she going to be alive when they did? Jesus Christ, they hadn’t even been able to track the dealers. Was this their work?
No, it couldn’t be. They would’ve finished off Toto and Jet. This was a fucking smash-and-grab. And the only asshole who had any reason to take her and leave his brothers behind was fucking Henslow.
Somehow, he’d found her. And the only one Torch had to blame was himself. It had only been a few days and he’d fucking dropped her already.
Nausea overcame him as his thoughts turned to what Henslow would do to her. He may have wanted her alive for the time being, but all that meant was that he was planning to make her suffer first.
No, no fucking way. He was going to find her. And then he was going to burn Henslow and his crew alive.
: 26 :
The bitch of a crick in my neck was the first thing to hurt when I came to. I was sitting up, my hands restrained with what felt like zip ties cutting off my circulation. I rolled my head around to loosen up and forced my heavy lids open.
It was some kind of large dank room—windowless, dusty, and empty. As I looked around, a quick little flash of light caught my attention.
I wasn’t alone. A man I didn’t recognize was sitting at a small table in the corner playing with a phone. Probably one of the assholes who’d slammed into Toto and Jet.
Shit, Toto and Jet… Did they survive? They had to have fucking survived.
Stop it.
I couldn’t do this, I couldn’t let my mind go there right now. Despite being hazy from what I assumed to be chloroform, I knew the only thing I could waste precious energy on was trying to get the hell out. Alive. I’d deal with the ugliness and fall-out later.
Unfortunately, from where I sat it looked like there was only a single door and the vents were high up, not that air ducts were ever much of an option in real life. I scouted the room—wire, metal, glass, anything could help—but struck out.
I wiggled my left ankle. No gun. At least I was fully clothed and my legs weren’t tied down, but that just meant these people weren’t all that concerned about me getting out. I looked around, but didn’t see any cameras. Maybe they were cocky, figuring that I could never take on six armed men.
I was up for a challenge. I’d just found some happiness, these assholes weren’t taking it away.
Focus, Liv. Think.
I cleared my throat to get the man’s attention. He looked up but simply picked up another phone—a burner it looked like—and typed something on it. Something else hit me as I noticed the different size—the other one he’d been playing with was a smartphone. I could work with that.
I didn’t say anything, despite my mouth just burning to spew shit at him. There was a more important task at hand, I had to figure out why the fuck I was even here. It had Mitch written all over it, but the dealers were next on my list of suspects. There was a huge difference in potential outcome depending on who came through that door.
I didn’t have to wait long. It swung open and in walked the man I recognized as Hess. Tall, groomed, and dressed casually in khakis and a polo shirt, he looked like the stereotypical suburban dealer who sold to bored housewives and country club schmucks.
Great, the fucking dealers. Neither possibility had been good, but I could have at least bought some time if this had been Mitch’s doing.
“Rise and shine, princess,” he crowed. “Hope you had a nice nap.”
“What do you want with me, Hess?”
He smirked. “I see you know my name. Well done.”
“I also know you just signed your own death warrant,” I snarled.
He calmly walked over and backhanded me in the face. “You think that biker boyfriend’s gonna come to your rescue? Sorry, doll, won’t happen. Might as well get that shit out of your head now and not make this any harder than it has to be.”
I felt blood dripping from my nose and tasted it on my lips. My eyes narrowed, hatred and determination flooding my veins. “Why don’t you tell me what this is.”
He chuckled and rubbed his knuckles. “I think I’ll let Mr. Henslow fill you in. Be patient, he should be here in a couple hours.”
Be patient. Yeah, okay—
Wait. What the fuck had he just said?
Mr. Henslow. Mitch. Jesus Christ, they were all connected.
Why hadn’t I pieced this together? How had Neil not heard a word about this? Or Bastien? What the fuck was going on? Mitch didn’t do business this far west.
Maybe he had nothing to do with the drugs, start-ups weren’t really his thing either. Maybe Hess was in charge and they simply knew each other and pooled resources to get me. That was the only angle that made sense here.
Did it really even matter right now? I’d just found out that it would take double the effort to stay alive.
“I have to go to the bathroom,” I told him.
Hess snapped his fingers at the man in the corner. “Buzz, get the bitch a bottle to piss in.”
“Seriously?” I asked.
“What? You think I’m gonna cut you loose?”
“No… I’m wondering how you think I’ll shit in a bottle.”
His faced wrinkled in disgust. Good.
I shrugged. “That’s cool, I’ll just do it in my pants. I’m sure Buzz here won’t mind sitting in a room with me after that. Right, Buzz? Do you like kale? That’s what I had for lunch. Really loosens the bowels.”
Buzz shot Hess a scowl. “No fucking way. I’m taking her to the damn bathroom.”
“Fine, just make sure you don’t lose her,” Hess huffed and walked out.
Idiots.
Buzz grabbed my arm, yanked me up to my feet, and pulled me toward the door. He took me down a short corridor and shoved me into the first door on the right. “Hurry up.”
It was a utility bathroom, nothing more than a concrete closet with a toilet and sink. There wasn’t even a mirror. I looked back over my shoulder at him and wiggled my fingers. “I need my hands to wipe, otherwise this little trip kind of defeats the purpose.”
“Figure it out,” he growled.
I sighed. “How about this? Tie one of my wrists to the toilet paper holder. It looks solid. How the hell would I cut it off? There’s nothing in here.”
He eyed me suspiciously, but reached around and checked the sturdiness of the metal. Pulling out a knife and extra zip tie from his pocket, he proceeded to cut my hands free. “Don’t fucking try anything,” he warned, then tied my left wrist down and walked out.
Knowing he was probably listening at the door, I pulled my pants down and peed, carefully popping out the roll of toilet paper. I pulled out the spring from the metal core and straightened it out, then folded it in half and pushed one end through the denim on the inside of my waistband to hide it.
I cleaned up and put the roll back. Without the spring, it wouldn’t stay in place, so I tore off some tiny pieces of toilet paper and stuffed them between the metal tube and the arms, using my longest nail to get it deep inside.
“Okay, I’m done,” I called out.
He swooped inside, cut me free, and dragged me out. Once we were back in the hallway, he tied my hands back together and took me back to the room we’d come from.
What the hell was this place? It looked like the partially finished basement of an office building or something.
Buzz shoved my ass back down in the chair and resumed his position at the table. With him preoccupied with a game or some shit, I got to work. I arched my back so my fingers could reach into my pants, and slowly pulled out the wire I’d tucked back there. I folded it a couple more times so it would be easier to grip. After feeling around for the ratchet end holding the plastic tie together, I managed to poke the end of the wire inside.
It took a few minutes of fumbling, but I found the right angle and tension to slide it between the teeth. Careful not to drop anything, I freed my hands and put the wire back in my waistband in case it came in handy later.
I glanced over at Buzz, who hadn’t been paying the slightest bit of attention. He was tall but skinny, so the key was catching him off guard and using his height against him more than anything. I started blinking my right eye and twitching in the chair to make some noise and get his attention.
“The fuck’s wrong with you now?” he demanded.
“There’s… Ugh… There’s something in my eye. It’s burning.”
“Tough break,” he said with a shrug and went back to his phone.
I clasped my hands together and started squirming harder.
“Come the fuck on,” he snapped, finally putting the damn thing down and walking over to me. He leaned down and stuck his face in mine, using a finger to lift my eyelid and inspect it. “Let me see.”