Page 2

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T he house is dark. From outside, nothing looks amiss, just like the other houses on the street. It makes me wonder what goes on inside all the other houses, or if it’s just this one.

“You ready to do this?” JD sidles up next to me, taking one last drag on his dart before dropping it to the path and stubbing it out with his booted toe.

“Yep,” I respond, watching to make sure he does the right fucking thing, which, of course, he does.

Bending to pick up the remains of his cigarette, he shoves it in his zip pocket inside his jacket, making sure to remove any evidence that can be linked to us.

“No names.” Trunk grunts, as if we need to be reminded, but we all nod anyway.

“The mum van is ready to go,” Jols states, shooting me a smile and I nod, fucking glad she’s in Fox Pines with us tonight. Having a chick with us may come in handy, given what we’re about to do.

“Stocky, you stay out here and look for signs of any witnesses,” I gesture to the big guy, who nods, his expression serious and already on task. “Murf, I want you on the dad. Trunk, you take the mum.” When they nod, I glance at the only female in our crew. “Jols, I want you on the sisters’ bedroom. If our information is right, they are in the same room tonight and one will be passed out, but the other won’t be expecting us. If she hears a female voice, she may not panic as much.”

Jols nods, her gaze shifting to the house.

“I’ll get the girl?” JD asks and I nod.

“Yes. I’ll be busy having a little fucking chat with the parents.” The growl in my voice gives away the fury bubbling in my veins.

I may be a fucking prick that only abides by the laws of my club, but when it comes to harming innocent women and children, I draw a big fucking line. The motherfuckers who dare to hurt the innocent come to regret their decisions when the Southern Sadists get a hold of them. A quick death isn’t something we do well.

No. Long, drawn out, gut wrenchingly painful deaths are what we like to deliver. It’s something I’ve come to enjoy a little too fucking much.

After a quick weapon check, we pull on our balaclavas and move stealthily across the front yard, approaching the house as Stocky keeps watch.

With gloved hands, I locate the pot plant by the door and lift it to find the spare key just where we were told it would be .

Fucking idiots. Can they be any dumber? Why not just leave the fucking front door wide open so anyone can walk in off the street?

A round of quiet grunts sound behind me when I pull out the key and unlock the door, the others likely coming to the same conclusion as me.

Yes, we might be the ones entering without being fucking invited, but really, do people have to make it so easy for us?

Pushing the door open, I take a step in and wait for an alarm.

We were told there wasn’t one, but you never fucking know, so I wait, and move further inside when nothing happens.

The image of the hand drawn layout of the house is fresh in my brain, and as my team fan out to do what they were tasked, I flick the hall light on and study the family portraits that adorn the walls.

What fucking lies they tell.

“What are you doing?!” a woman screeches from the end of the hall. “Get out!”

“And so it begins,” I mutter to myself, leaning closer to study the three sisters in a framed picture.

The oldest and youngest look very similar. Blonde hair. Big brown doe eyes. Sweet innocent, heart-shaped faces.

“Sarg. Roadblock,” JD calls, and I drag myself away from the fake happiness of the portraits to peer up the hall.

Jols is closest to me, standing guard outside a door. She holds up two fingers and points to the door, telling me that two of the sisters are behind it.

Giving her a nod, I make my way up the hall, ignoring the yelling coming from the parents’ room as I approach JD. He’s standing outside a door, studying something.

“What’s up?” I keep my voice quiet, my eyes finally landing on the roadblock.

Fucking hell.

Latches.

Three of them.

All with locks.

“These folks aren’t fucking around,” JD mutters.

“Yeah, no shit. What the fuck goes on in this house?” I hiss, fucking disturbed by this sight alone.

My best mates’ hazel eyes peer at me past the knitted mask hiding his identity, and I don’t miss the concern swimming in them.

“She’s eighteen,” I remind him.

“It doesn’t make it right.” He hisses, and I nod. This is hitting a little too close to home for him. I know that.

“I know, man. It’s never okay, no matter how old someone is, but we have to be thankful it’s not a minor behind that door.”

The words taste foul on my tongue, the image of the oldest blonde girl from the portrait flashing through my mind. She looked like she wouldn’t hurt a fly. Why would anyone lock her up like this?

“Find the key,” he snaps, his eyes turning to slits, and I know he’s pissed at me for sounding so fucking cold hearted. He knows that’s the way it has to be though, which is why he’s not arguing with me.

You can’t do the shit we do and let fucking feelings get in the way. That’s how accidents happen and innocent people get killed.

Storming up the passage, I enter the parents’ bedroom to find them on their knees at the foot of the bed, their hands and feet bound behind them as Murf and Trunk stand over them, watching them both sob.

Finally letting my anger surface, I storm towards the father, gripping his thinning hair and tugging his head back as I snarl in his face. “Where are the fucking keys to open your daughter’s door?”

“I-I-I…” He starts fucking crying even more, and I’m about to bitch slap the fucker when the wife speaks.

“Stop being so pathetic, Colin. Your sixteen-year-old daughter has more balls than you.”

Slowly, I release Colin’s hair and turn my attention to the wife. “Sounds like you’re not the one who wears the pants in this house, Colin,” I mutter, and the wife sneers at me.

“God will damn you for breaking in. He will banish you to hell, where you’ll be punished by the devil for all eternity.”

My brows shoot up in surprise, and I glance at Trunk and Murf, who return my shock.

Now I get it.

We’re dealing with religious radicalists.

Fucking great.

Leaning down to stare in the face of the woman, I flash her a smile. “I look forward to the day I go to hell to party with the devil. But just so you know, believing in God doesn’t mean you’re going through his pearly gates, woman. You’re a different kind of evil, and I’ll be seeing you in hell, where fuckers like me will entertain themselves by tormenting fucked up cunts like you.”

A loud gasp leaps past her lips before she makes a raspy noise in the back of her throat, and knowing what’s coming, because this isn’t my first fucking rodeo, I move away in time to dodge the blob of saliva she tries to spit at me.

“Where are the keys?” I snap at her, but she seals her lips shut.

“Tear this fucking room apart until we find the keys,” I order my men, and they hurry into action, pulling open drawers and emptying the contents as they rifle through it while I watch on.

There’s a high chance the keys could be somewhere else in the house, but I get the feeling mummy dearest would keep them close. If for no other reason than to be able to access her daughter faster to torment her even more.

“Found some keys,” Murf calls and I glance up in time to see them flying towards me.

Catching them, I dangle them before the woman’s face. “Are these them?”

“Why are you here?” she snaps in response, curling her lip.

“Why is your daughter locked in her room like a prisoner?” I counter, but the woman simply scoffs as I move to the doorway.

“She is none of your concern,” the woman yells, her tone panicked.

“Cap,” I call to JD, and he turns. “Catch.” Tossing the keys in his direction, I watch him catch them and immediately try one of the keys in the bottom latch. When the first one doesn’t fit, he tries another, and thankfully, the first lock clicks open.

Moving back into the parents’ room, I ignore the useless husband as he sobs, lowering to my haunches in front of the woman and staring into her eyes for a long moment before I speak.

“Your daughter is no longer any of your concern. She is mine now. I’m taking her for myself, to do with as I please.” I chuckle as she gasps, leaning in closer to her trembling body. “And she will love it. ”

“Ahhhhh!” the woman screams, and I stand, chuckling, knowing just how to annoy the religious types.

They want their daughter innocent. Kept that way until she marries, but now she knows I’m going to do everything in my power to corrupt her little girl.

Well. That’s what she thinks anyway, and I’m not about to fucking correct her.

“Uh, Sarg?”

The uncertainty in JD’s tone is what has me moving back out of the room, my eyes latching onto him as I enter the hall, watching as he stares into the now open door of the bedroom.

“What?” I snap, but he just points and steps aside so I can see for myself.

As I step into the open doorway, it takes me a moment to make out what I’m seeing.

The room beyond is pale pink, the furniture white… well, what’s left of it. Most of it has been trashed, except for the bed.

There’s a small trash can on its side, with what looks like a puddle of vomit spilling out. The glass in the window is shattered with shards of glass everywhere, and a security shutter is all the way down, keeping the outside world out… or the inside of this house in.

These aren’t the things that keep my feet glued in place, though.

It’s the girl standing in the corner by the window, her baggy white t-shirt torn at the shoulder and stained in blood, as too are her arms. Her cheeks have smears of the thick crimson too, and her blonde hair is tinted red at the ends, making her look like something from a horror film .

If it weren’t for those big brown doe eyes, I wouldn’t know it’s the same girl from the portrait in the hall. She was neat. Proper. Innocent. But this girl, with her chest heaving, her head tilted down, so she peers at me through her dark lashes, and her hand wrapped firmly around a large, and very deadly shard of glass, as droplets of blood drip from her hand onto the carpet below, I have to wonder if this girl is someone else?

“Abbey?”

My voice is raspier than usual, deep and demanding, and it causes the girl to flinch and take a step back.

“Are you Abbey?” I ask, and her top lip curls as she bares her teeth.

“You can’t force me to marry that monster. I won’t do it!” Her last words come out as a piercing scream before she lifts the shard out in front of her. “I’ll kill you! I won’t let you take me to him!”

Fucking hell.

I want to give her the benefit of the doubt and assume she’s not a fucking nut job given the sight of her. Surely, it’s her environment that has pushed her over the fucking edge, and the locks on the door weren’t actually there to keep the world safe from her.

“Sarg?” JD questions from behind me, and I turn back and shrug.

“The job is to take her, so I’m taking her.” Then I turn back to the girl and step into the room.