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CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO: CICELY

Two men rush forward to grab Roni and me. They drag us up the driveway and into the house. Roni’s gasp draws my attention to the figure tied to a chair in the center of the room when they drag us into the living room. She’s an older woman with steel gray hair cut into a short bob. Someone has blackened her right eye. A trail of blood dribbles down her chin. She moans when she sees us.

Seeing the poor woman has me yanking my arm free. I rush toward her, but Trigger yanks me back with such force that I trip over my feet and land hard on the ground. “She’s hurt. Let me help her.”

“Why would we let you do that? We aren’t done hurting her yet,” Trigger says. He steps purposely toward the woman even as she desperately tries to shrink away. He casually reaches down and breaks her pinkie. The gag barely muffles her cries of pain. Tears stream from her eyes as Roni and I both cry out in horror. He turns his black, empty eyes to us. “Sit down. Shut up. Or I’ll hurt her again. Got it?”

Roni and I scramble to sit next to each other on the settee and stare at the poor woman. I want to comfort her, but I won’t risk the bastard causing her more pain. After several minutes, her moans lessen. Instead of weeping, she’s staring off into the distance. She’s going into shock. I pull my attention away from her to examine our situation.

We’re in a living area directly off the front entry. Roni and I share a settee that is part of a conversation area. A larger couch in the same heavy gold brocade sits perpendicular to the settee. Across from us is a matching settee, and beyond that is a dining room with windows to the outside. The victim is tied to a chair that likely came from the dining room. They positioned her in front of a massive fireplace with jade inlays. Above the fireplace is a space that likely used to hold a painting. The hooks are still in place even though the piece is missing. A steady stream of men passes by the door carrying various items, mostly paintings and objects d’art. None of them is empty-handed.

Watching the men, I spot movement outside the dining room window. However, a sudden shift in the air draws my attention to the man who has just entered the room. At first glance, he seems average. Short brown hair over dull brown eyes. He’s clean-shaven, which highlights a weak chin. He’s short and very thin. There is nothing extraordinary about him, yet he has presence. Maybe it’s the way the older woman shrinks when she looks at him or the reverence the men give him as they stop moving to focus their attention on him.

“Well, what do we have here?” he asks softly. His eyes fix on Roni and me. “I wasn’t expecting company. Much less than the company of two beautiful women. I’m Theodore Jordan.”

“Father T., I caught them outside. They were snooping. The blonde is Chrome’s woman.”

“Is she?” the man coos. His eyes flash when he stares at me. “The one who stopped you from grabbing Sammy?”

“Yeah. That’s her,” says the man who steps beside him. He’s another I recognize from the club. A patched member they called Mouse. He’s also the man who was driving the van. “I owe her some pain.” He steps toward me, but the other man stops him.

“There will be plenty of time for that later. We need to get moving.” He looks at the older woman whose eyes have remained riveted on him. “Luckily for you, the combination you gave me worked. There will be no more reason to torture you.” She visibly relaxes as tears leak from her eyes. She doesn’t see the evil glint of pleasure in his eyes. “Now, we just get to torture you for fun.”

She stares in horror at the man. I close my eyes as I realize what’s about to happen. I’ve seen the brutality these men inflict on women. I know the pain she’s been through and the pain she’s about to receive.

“You’re a bastard,” I tell him. “You won’t get away with this. Men are searching for you who will inflict you with the same pain you’ve inflicted on these poor women.”

“Poor women?” Theodore sneers. “These women are fucking leaches. They’ve lived off the money earned by their husbands and fathers. Men who broke their backs to build wealth but died before they could enjoy it. Leaving all of it to the lazy bitches who waste their time and money on useless frivolities. Women are the most ungrateful gender. They suck the life out of men. Older women are the worst. Past their prime and of no use to anyone.”

The hatred in his words fills the room. The men pause to listen to him. They nod in agreement and grumble about bitches and whores as Theodore moves to stand in front of Roni and me.

He reaches forward to rub a lock of my hair and then does the same to Roni. “Only young women have a purpose. They are put on this earth to accommodate men and reproduce. A man needs a warm body to sink into. He needs a woman to cook, clean, and care for them so they can go out and do the work that men do. Society has given women a voice. It’s allowed them to believe they are more than just holes to fill. That’s where I come in. I’ve dedicated my life to teaching women their proper place. Like I’ll teach you both. You’ll fetch a nice price once I’ve finished training you.”

“Father T, she’s here and brought the girl,” says Mouse.

“Good.” He turns toward the door. He stands with his hands clasped behind him.

“What are we doing here, Lisa? I thought you were taking me shopping,” says Margo just before Lisa shoves Margo into the room. Theodore catches the girl. Margo struggles, but he has a tight grip on her arms.

“Stop struggling,” he snaps at her before pushing her toward Mouse. Margo spies me and breaks away to land at my feet. I stroke her hair while Theodore watches.

“Keep her calm,” he orders me. I glare back at him, but he’s already turned away to face Lisa. “You disappoint me.”

“I brought the girl. I expect to get paid,” Lisa says.

“You sold your daughter to these men?” I splutter.

Lisa glances in my direction and gives me a scornful look. “She’s not my daughter. She’s my step-daughter. We don't need her now that I’m pregnant with Paul’s child.”

Margo whimpers.

“I wanted the little bitch to lure that bastard Sammy away from the clubhouse. But that didn’t happen. I don’t need her now.”

“It isn’t my fault your men failed. I lured her to the hospital and told you where to find her. I did my part. You need to fulfill your end of the deal. You promised to get her out of my hair.”

He studies Margo, which makes her tremble. “I guess I could find a buyer for her. I don’t do little girls, but I know men who do. But you haven’t fulfilled your end of the deal. You were supposed to kill those old women and keep their identities secret.”

“That’s not my fault, either. It’s hers,” Lisa says, pointing at me. “She’s the one who figured out Beverly Harriman's identity. The other one is Valorie Parsons' granddaughter. She called the police to report it. It won’t take them long to find you.”

Theodore laughs. “Oh, we’ll be long gone before anyone comes here. The cops will never suspect our involvement. I have a plan to make sure they look somewhere else.”

“Well, that’s nothing to do with me. I’ve done my part, and I’ve brought you the girl. Give me what I’ve earned so I can get out of here. I want to get home to my husband.”

“Oh, you see that won’t work for me. You’re the distraction.” Theodore nods at the man standing behind Lisa.

He moves forward and wraps his thick arm around her neck before using his other hand to snap her neck. Lisa doesn’t have the chance to make a sound before she crumbles to the ground. Roni and Margo both scream. The man standing guard over Roni slaps her hard enough to send her to the floor. I hunch over Margo to protect her.

“Shut them up!” screams Theodore.

I feel hands grab my arm, but I yank away and take Margo to the floor as all hell breaks loose.