Page 95 of Claimed By the Bikers

I loop the rope around his wrists, yanking tight enough that he hisses. “You can. You will. Because right now, the only thing keeping you breathing is my curiosity about how much damage you’ve done.”

“They have my sister!”

“Oui, you mentioned Emma. Seventeen years old, finishing high school.” I secure the rope to the chair’s metal frame, each knot precise and unforgiving. “Tell me about the first time they approached you.”

Finn’s chest rises and falls rapidly, shirt darkening with sweat stains. “Three weeks ago. I was leaving work late, cleaning the fryer. Two men in the parking lot, waiting by my truck.”

“What did they look like?”

“Hispanic. One tall with a scar across his cheek, the other shorter with gold teeth. They knew my name, knew Emma’s shift at the grocery store where she works.”

I move to the workbench against the far wall, metal tools scattered across its surface. “Continue.”

“They showed me pictures of her. Coming out of school, walking to work, sitting in her car. Said they could reach her anytime they wanted.” His voice cracks. “She’s all I have left, Silas. After Mom died, Emma’s my responsibility.”

“So you agreed to spy on us.”

“I told them I wouldn’t hurt you. That you were good people, good employers. But they said they didn’t care about my feelings.” Tears stream down his face now, dripping onto his shirt. “They said I could cooperate or watch my sister get carved up piece by piece.”

I turn back toward him, studying his face for lies. “What did you tell them?”

“Nothing at first. Just that you ran some kind of supply business out of the restaurant. Basic stuff anyone could figure out from watching the delivery trucks.”

“But they wanted more.”

“They kept calling. Every few days, asking for better information. Schedules, locations, who you meet with.” His whole body shakes now. “They said if I didn’t provide useful intelligence, they’d start sending Emma pieces of herself in the mail.”

I step closer, close enough that he has to crane his neck to look at me. “What useful intelligence did you provide?”

“Supply run schedules. When you’d be away from the compound. Which routes you take for deliveries.”

“The Mountain View location. How did they know about that?”

“I heard you talking to Jake on the phone last month. Something about expanding storage capacity at the mountain facility. I didn’t know the exact address, but?—”

I grab the front of his shirt, pulling him forward in the chair until our faces are inches apart. “But you told them enough that they could find it.”

“No! I swear I never?—”

I slam him back against the chair, hard enough that it rocks on its legs. “Don’t lie to me, Finn.”

“I overheard you giving directions to Atlas yesterday morning. Something about the old mining road turnoff. I called mycontact when you left for the warehouse.” His words tumble out between sobs. “They promised this would be the last time if I gave them your location. They said they’d let Emma go.”

“And you believed them?”

“I had to believe them!”

The basement door opens above us, footsteps on the wooden stairs. Rico appears in the dim light.

“Atlas wants to see you upstairs. Urgent.”

I look at Finn, still tied to the chair, tears and snot streaming down his face. “We’re not finished.”

Rico moves to stand beside the chair. “I’ll watch him.”

“Don’t let him leave this room.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”