Page 73 of Jazz
“Then why didn’t you cut her free and then run?” Indie asked, his voice just that bit softer.
“Because she wouldn’t have got far. Grim wanted her.” Feet shifted somewhere in the crowd behind the Kings’ President and second in command. “He was taking her back to the States. That fate would have been worse than death for Jazz.”
The metal bar crashed into my side, and this time I shouted out, pain erupting everywhere.
“Keep my sister’s name out of your mouth.”
“Alright, Will,” Indie cautioned, a couple of sniggers hissing somewhere else.
Didn’t seem the time to mention it wasn’t her name he should be pissed about.
“What you smiling for, Rat?” Fury spat.
“You’ve given me more information there than you realise, Rat,” Indie interrupted, his voice low with smug satisfaction lining every word.
Maybe I had. And I had something else for them, because getting them to eye each other up suspiciously, and question who they trusted, might be enough just to get me out of here.
“Leave him here for a bit, lads. Let’s see what else he remembers.”
Indie turned, the three crowned skulls on the cut of his back laughing at me. Fucker.
“You need to find out who yourratis, Indie,” my voice gargled on my blood, and he spun on his heel, eyes narrowing. “Someone in your club tells us what you’re up to. Where you’re going to be riding. Where your shops are yours and where they are. What your plans are. Before you try working out what the Rats and the Hand are up to, you might want to look closer to home.”
Indie tipped his head, Fury striding forwards.
“And there’s no fucking point trying to beat me to shit for the answer,” I added quickly, hanging on the ropes now, my body screaming in pain and my face expecting another pummelling.
Indie held out his hand, and Fury stopped.
“Then how d’you know we’ve got a grass?”
“Dougal and Skinny bought the info from the Notorious. Whoever your rat is, they know club business.”
“You believe him?” Fury asked, his big hands balled into fists, flecks of blood showing on torn knuckles.
“No. But church starts in a minute. Let’s deal with business up there, and then we’ll come back to business down here. Let’s see if any of our members worry there’s a Teesside Road Rat downstairs.”
Behind Indie, feet shuffled, backing away. But the Kings’ President stayed, watching me.
“Indie?” Fury prompted.
“Give me a minute.”
Fury nodded, and the laughing skulls joined the shadows, a door clunking heavily back into place.
The silence seemed suffocating, the only thing breaking it my ragged breaths. For a while, Indie just watched me. I tried to stand tall. A thick, heavy ache in my thigh, my stomach convulsing, and if no one else had been in the cellar dungeon with me, I would have given in and puked.
“You got her out,” Indie said eventually. “And for that, the Kings thank you. I just wanted you to know that.”
“You’ve got a funny way of showing gratitude, Indie,” I wheezed through the pain.
“Don’t worry. We’re not done with you yet. Then you’ll what our gratitude looks like. We will kill you, Rat.”
My stomach somersaulted and then tensed. I knew that. I knew the minute the Kings found me I wouldn’t get out of here alive.
Chapter Thirty Seven
The Hayabusa started with a scream. Angry and ready to choose violence. The sound vibrated through my chest, through every nerve that had been wound too tight since I’d woken up. It was chaos and control all at once. A mechanical heartbeat syncing with my own. I closed my eyes and listened, letting the rhythm connect with me, stilling the raging thoughts and the half-cooked plans in my brain. It made me think clearly. Or maybe I didn’t think at all. In the deafening scream of the bike, I felt peace.