Page 11

Knuckles

If there was ever a more satisfying feeling than flying down the interstate on my bike with Hannah at my back, her arms wrapped around my middle, her cheek pressed between my shoulder blades, I didn’t know what it would be. Her grip tightened as we leaned into a curve, her body moving perfectly with mine. We’d been on the road for a little over four hours, headed toward Beth’s place just outside Terre Haute, Indiana.

The woman thought she was clever, hiding in plain sight in a suburban neighborhood. Of course, I doubt anyone around her knew of her drug trafficking scheme. Or that she’d sold her daughter to a human trafficking ring to secure safe passage and exclusivity from Nashville to the prison in Terre Haute.

I’d called Gunnar before we left, letting him know I was handling the Beth situation. He’d wanted to come, but I’d convinced him to stay with Pippa. She needed Gunnar more than I needed him for backup, especially with Hannah riding shotgun and Hawk, Tiny, and Inferno with me. Besides, this was personal between me and Beth. She’d betrayed me, used our daughter as a pawn, and nearly gotten Pippa killed in the process. That wasn’t something I could forgive. Ever.

We’d left the compound at dawn, after I’d made a few calls to set things in motion. Neither Torpedo or Bohannon were happy about me going behind their back and arranging this trip, but fuck ’em. I respected both men and was grateful for them helping me out when they did. But I didn’t need their permission. They might have thought I did, but they were wrong. And as soon as this run was done, we were going to have a chat about changing the guard. I was ready to take my fuckin’ club back. Right now, though, I had more pressing matters. Like dealing with the woman who’d hurt my daughter.

We rolled to a stop in a small roadside park out of the way of the main traffic flow. Tiny wasn’t with us. As the road captain, he’d brought a cage with a trailer on the back to haul our bikes. The big, black F-250 would be memorable if seen with the bikes, but if it was parked in an ATV park, not so much.

“You guys are about fifteen minutes from your target. Everything still a go?” Tiny was the biggest mother hen I’d ever met. God help him if he ever had a woman as fierce as Hannah.

I glanced around at the others. Inferno was impassive as ever, but Hawk had an almost gleeful expression. “Ready to watch the fireworks, aye, Inferno?” Hawk nudged the other man who only grunted.

Hannah had a small smile on her lips, and I had to stop myself from smiling too. There was nothing Hannah revered as much as she did family. Pippa was her family now. “Ready when you are, Knuckles.”

“Looks like we’re a go, Tiny.”

“I’ve got another cage arranged if you need to remove her from the premises.”

“I’ll give you as much notice as I can if it comes to that.”

“It won’t.” Hannah’s small smile gave me chills. When she leveled a look on me, I recognized the anger inside her because I saw the same fire in my own eyes when I looked in the mirror.

“What are you plannin’, woman?”

“Just going to give her some options. I think she’ll take option number one.”

“What are the options?” Hawk looked interested, but he was also as much of a smartass as Hannah could be.

With a straight face, Hannah answered him, “Bad, and to-be-avoided-at-all-costs.”

Hawk nodded. “I admit, I might be looking forward to this.”

The neighborhood Beth lived in was very upscale. I was worried the bikes wouldn’t fit in, but apparently, there was a weekend warrior “clubhouse” in the middle of the place. There were bikes going all up and down the neighborhood streets, which were nearly labyrinthine in their complexity. So we rolled up in front of her house and parked. There were eight other bikes parked on the street or in driveways in the immediate area.

“Protocol dictates we should let these guys know we’re in their territory,” Inferno muttered. “Don’t mean no disrespect, but no fuckin’ way.” Though we’d all put our colors away before heading here, I understood how Inferno felt. Normally, we were a group governed strictly by the rules we’d put in place. Our habits were regimented as a way for some of the guys to cope. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner were always at six, noon, and six respectively. It was a constant in a sea of choices because, to borrow a phrase from a movie, when a man’s been asking permission to take a piss for twenty or thirty years, it’s hard to squeeze a drop without say-so.

“Got it,” I said, snorting a little as I held still when Hannah braced her hand on my shoulder to steady herself as she got off my bike. “Ain’t askin’ permission today.”

I got distracted as I watched Hannah saunter up the sidewalk to the front of the house. Her ass swayed enticingly in the skintight jeans she’d put on when she’d insisted on coming with me. She wore a white tank over a black bra. Despite the absence of any tattoos at present, Hannah was every inch a biker’s old lady. I had a feeling I’d be finding new tattoos -- and hopefully body piercings -- on her regularly.

“Uh, we goin’ too, Knuckles?” Inferno’s voice was soft, but I heard the hint of amusement there.

I scowled. “Yeah. Keep your eyes off my woman’s ass.”

“Wouldn’t dream of lookin’, brother.” Hawk sounded too amused, so I gave him a death stare. Bastard wasn’t intimidated in the least. But he didn’t look at Hannah’s ass.

I was expecting to lead this adventure, but my woman took point, which would probably work out in my favor later. Besides, I was curious to see what she had come up with for dealing with Beth.

Hannah didn’t bother ringing the doorbell. She tested the door, found it unlocked, and strode right in like she owned the place. I followed close behind, Hawk and Inferno flanking us as we entered the pristine suburban home.

“Beth!” Hannah called out, her voice carrying through the house. “You have company!”

There was a clatter from somewhere in the back of the house, followed by hurried footsteps. Beth appeared in the hallway, her blonde hair perfectly styled, wearing designer jeans and a silk blouse that probably cost more than most people’s weekly salary. When she saw me, her face went chalk white.

“Knuckles,” she whispered, her eyes darting from me to Hannah to the men behind us. “What are you doing here?”

“Paying a social call,” I said, my voice deliberately casual. “Nice place you got here. Must’ve cost a pretty penny.”

Beth’s gaze hardened as she regained her composure. “It’s been a long time. You should have called first.”

Hannah laughed, the sound cold and brittle. “And miss the surprise on your face? I don’t think so.”

Instead of addressing me, Beth chose to go with Hannah. Inferno gave me the side eye while Hawk looked positively gleeful.

“I don’t believe we’ve been introduced.” Beth’s smile was cold like a shark. “I’m Beth. Knuckles and I have a daughter together.”

Hannah didn’t return the smile or offer her name. “I didn’t come here to play patty-cake with Real Housewives . I came here to give you a choice.”

“A choice,” Beth scoffed as she crossed to the fridge and pulled out a bottle of sparkling water. “And what could someone like you possibly have to offer someone like me?”

“Oh, there’s a lot to unpack in that statement.” Hannah shook her head, chuckling lightly. “What can I offer you? That’s easy. I can offer you a quick death. Now. Ask me about your choices.”

“What are you talking about?” Beth looked from Hannah to me. “I’m calling the cops.”

“Touch your phone and you lose option one.”

“You can’t bully me.”

“Nope. But I can beat your ass into submission. You’re already close to losing option one, and you haven’t heard what those options are.” Hannah clicked her tongue in sympathy.

“Knuckles?” Beth gave me the look a woman gets when she expects a man to defend her honor. Usually for something that was entirely her fault.

“What?”

“Say something!”

I shrugged. “Not really sure what you want me to say.”

“She’s threatening to kill me, Knuckles.” She sounded so outraged it was almost comical.

“She’s giving you a choice, Beth.” I straightened, taking a slow step toward her. “It’s more than I’d give you. But Hannah and I are new.” I grinned. “I’m still in the spoiling-her stage.”

“You’re out of your minds!” Beth’s gaze darted from mine to Hannah’s. “Crazy! You’re both crazy!”

“Have a seat, Beth.” Hannah had moved close to the other woman. Now, she grabbed a handful of Beth’s hair and dragged her to the breakfast table in the big kitchen. Hannah pulled out a chair and shoved Beth into it before snagging her own and flipping it around so she could straddle it. Hannah sighed, giving Beth a kind smile. “I’m really sorry it’s come to this.”

“Come to what?” Beth’s eyes were wide now. She knew she was in trouble, but still thought she could talk her way out.

“To you having to die today.”

Beth’s face drained of color, her hands clutching the edge of the kitchen table. “You can’t be serious.” The look on her face said she knew we were serious.

“Afraid so.” Hannah leaned forward, resting her arms on the back of the chair. “See, you made a critical mistake when you sold your daughter to human traffickers. That’s not something a mother does. Ever.”

Beth was silent for a long time before she closed her eyes, finally realizing she was beaten. She shook her head once before pinning me with her furious gaze. “What do you want? Me to back off on pushing my product through your territory?” She threw up her hands. “Fine. Done. I won’t move shit through your precious territory.”

“This isn’t about you not respecting territory. This is about Pippa.”

“I told you I’d stay out of your territory, OK? I won’t go after your product either. You’ll never hear from me again.” Her breath was coming in pants now, sweat beading her forehead and upper lip.

“Oh, I know we won’t hear from you again. Now.” I nodded to Hannah. “You don’t have long before she makes the decision for you, so you better listen up.”

Fear and dawning horror flooded Beth’s expression. “I’m not going to sit by passively while you kill me.”

“No, you’re not,” Hannah said brightly. “So why don’t you shut up and listen.” When Beth said nothing, Hannah pulled out a plastic baggie with a medicine vial and a skinny syringe. Being a nurse, Beth would know exactly what it was and what it was for. “Insulin. Taken from the clinic at the prison.”

“You’ve lost your Goddamned minds! Both of you!”

“Your other alternative,” Hannah continued, “is that you get taken. Same as Pippa did. They will do to you what they did to Pippa, then they will do to you what they would have done to Pippa had my brother not found her.”

Beth’s eyes were wide. “You can’t --”

“Save it, sweetie,” Hannah waved her off, interrupting what was going to be some royally indignant bullshit no one wanted to waste their time listening to. It wasn’t going to make a difference anyway. “This is happening. I’m being considerate in giving you a choice.”

“You’re bluffing.”

Hannah shrugged. “Suit yourself.” She opened the bag and dumped out the vial and syringe onto the table before standing and putting the chair back under the table. “In case you change your mind. You won’t have long, but I’m not forcing you to take the easy way out.”

I saw the exact moment Beth realized she was in trouble. Her gaze flitted from Hanna to me. “Fuck you,” she whispered.

“Nope. Fuck you. And they will,” Hannah said with a bright smile. “They will.”

Beth gave me a pleading look. “Knuckles.” Her lips trembled and tears slid from her eyes. “Please. Can you really sit by and let her kill me? You’re the father of my daughter.”

I smirked. “That was the exact wrong thing to bring up if you wanted to live. You aren’t anyway, but bringing up Pippa will only hurt you.”

“Oh, God,” she whimpered. The medicine vial and syringe sat on the table between Beth and Hannah. The elephant in the room. “Are you expecting a suicide note or something? Because no one will believe it.”

Hannah put her hands flat on the table. “I couldn’t give a good Goddamn if you leave a fucking note or not. You draw as much insulin as you can get out of that vial and inject yourself with it. Then you draw some more and do it again. You keep doing it until you pass out or you run out of liquid.”

“I can’t.”

“Option two it is.” Hannah picked up her phone and fiddled with it, placing it to her ear.

“No! Wait! Stop!” Beth’s eyes were wide and she stood, reaching out to Hannah. My woman didn’t move a muscle. She stood with the phone to her ear, the other hand cocked on her hip. Her expression was as hard as any MC president.

“You have three seconds to get started, Beth.”

With shaking hands, Beth snatched the bottle and drew up the liquid. She took several deep breaths before pulling up her shirt and inserting the needle into the skin at her belly. She kept doing it, sobbing uncontrollably. I’d never seen Beth like this. I wish I could say it made me feel bad, but fuck the bitch. She tried to have my daughter -- her daughter -- sold and whored out for men to do whatever they wanted to her. In my opinion, Beth was getting off too easy.

It took about thirty minutes to make sure she was done, but Hannah waited in silence. At some point, she’d sat back in the chair and crossed her legs. There was no conversation. There was no encouragement or berating. Beth finally laid her head down and didn’t move.

Hannah led the way out the front door and back to the bikes. The rest of the neighborhood was going on like they had been since we rolled in. I’m pretty sure that asshole Hawk even waved at a few of them.

I wasn’t losing a moment’s sleep. Good riddance to bad rubbish.

Fuck the bitch.