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MERCY

W atching the man twist and turn on the meat hook in front of me, I take a long drag of the cigarette hanging from my lips. I close my eyes as the nicotine burns its way down my throat and into my lungs. I hold the toxin in until my lungs are screaming for anything else, letting the nicotine calm the buzzing in my head. When the sound of thunder rolls through, shaking the building, I finally let it free. The sound of boots on concrete break through the haze. I turn my head, looking over at Blender as he makes his way to me.

“I thought you quit?” he sneers, wrinkling his nose.

“I did.” I shrug, tossing the barely smoked cigarette to the floor.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” he throws over his shoulder as he walks to the man.

“We good?” I ask standing to my full height following him.

“Pres said that he was ours.” The hint of excitement and glee in my brother's eyes causes a shiver to claw up my back. “It was our blood he snuffed out for fun, so it’s our right to snuff him out for our entertainment.”

I smirk, shaking out my arms, getting loose and ready. Lightning flashes outside, lighting up the patch that both Blender and I wear with pride. We’re both members of the Kings of Anarchy Georgia chapter. With the club, we found the family that we fought many days for. Growing up, it was me, Blender, and our baby sister against the world. Our mom was worthless and who the fuck knew who our father was. The Kings took us in and gave us what we never even knew to want.

Our sister became the princess of the club and Pres made sure we wanted for nothing. Blender and I busted our asses to become prospects, brothers, and then Enforcers for the club. Sister left the club to go to school, and that’s where it all went to hell. Now she’s been gone four years and the man that took her is about to pay his toll to hell.

As thunder rolls again throughout the building, the man hanging on the hook whimpers and fights the chains holding him in place. Another bolt of lightning, and that’s when he finally sees us standing in the shadows. He kicks out, picking up his efforts to get loose from the restraints.

“Who are you?” the man hollers, fears causing him to be high pitched.

“Oh, now let's not play stupid. You know who we are and why we’re all here in this fine establishment.” Blender theatrically walks around the man.

“All I know is that I’m looking at two deranged men,” he screams.

I step so that I’m nose-to-nose with the pieces of shit. “You haven’t seen deranged yet. Now we’re going to give you one chance to tell us what happened to our sister, and this’ll end quickly.”

The man's eyes widen to the point I think his eyeballs are going to fall out of his head. “Your sister? I don’t even know who you are. How would I know what happened to your sister?”

Tsking in disappointment, I step back just as Blender makes contact with the man's kidney. He screams in pain as Blender counters the blows to his back. After about five minutes, the man coughs and blood trickles down his chin. A smile stretches my lips just as lightning flashes in the sky again. That’s when I smell the unmistakable scent of piss.

“Here is the thing, Stevie boy. Jenny was last seen with you. You took her from the bar. Put her in your car and then the next thing anyone knows, she's being pulled out of the marsh.” I lose my cool as I speak and punch the man in the face. Blood sprays everywhere from his broken nose.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I swear. I just take the girls to them.” As soon as the words leave his lips, he realizes he’s fucked up.

Blender grabs a handful of his hair, snatching his head back. Reaching into my cut, I pull out the switchblade that is always there and flip it open. In a blink of an eye, I have the blade buried to the hilt in his thigh.

“What the fuck did you just say?” I hiss, rage taking the place of rational thought.

“I-I-I just get the girls and hand them over. I don’t know what happens after I drop them off, I swear,” he cries, begging for his life.

“Where do you take them?” Blender growls, slowly sliding his hand around his neck, cutting off the blood flow to his brain.

The man just shakes his head as much as he can with Blender not only fisting his hair but also having a hand around his throat, fear clawing at him like an angry lover.

“I don’t give a fuck who you’re afraid of at this motherfucking point because you are not making it out of this building still breathing.” I sigh. “It’s your fault Jenny is dead, so for that you will pay with your life. Save yourself some pain and just fucking tell us what we want to fucking know.” I snatch my blade from his leg and slowly slide it into his abdomen, knowing that as long as it rests there, he’ll bleed out slowly.

His eyes go wide, not only from pain but from the lack of blood flow. We stand there watching him as he loses his hold on life. Blender lets the hold he has on his throat slack and the man gulps in large breaths, trying to clear the haze that the lack of oxygen and blood has provided. He looks into my eyes, and he finally realizes that this is it and his only hope is that I’ll provide him a touch of mercy.

“I’ve always taken them to a bar on the outskirts of town. The building is a shack. It conceals a very large basement where all the business is done. They use the docks to move them in and out. I didn’t know she was one of yours—I swear it—please, I didn't know,” the shit-stain begs.

“Ours or not. You don’t sell women into that life no matter who they belong to,” I snap, pulling my blade from his abdomen.

I turn my back, heading for the table with tools laid out, looking over them. The sound of an airway being closed off settles the rumbling under my skin. When the chains stop moving and the sounds stop, I turn and watch as Blender uses the body as a punching bag. I let him get out the pent-up rage as I pull my phone from my pocket. I unlock the screen and tap Pres’s number.

“Is it done?” he barks without a hello.

“It’s done. He was the grabber. He gave us the drop-off location,” I get to the point.

“Prospects are on their way. Get back here for church. I want whoever these assholes are delt with fucking yesterday,” Pres demands, not leaving room for argument.

I hang up the phone. “Blender, let’s ride. We got church.”

“They will all burn,” he growls, storming by me, heading for the door.

“We’ll punch their tickets to hell ourselves.” I slap him on the shoulder, moving to head for my bike.

“Hey asshat, there’s a mess,” Blender calls at my back.

Turning, I scowl at him before saying, “You know I don’t cleanup after myself.”

Just as I finish speaking, the roar of motorcycles rattles the building. I hold my arms out wide, walking backward.

“See, the cleanup crew has arrived.” Turning, I continue making my way across the slaughterhouse. I make it about four steps when the sound of air moving and a sharp pinch on my ear stops my steps.

Turning my head, I look over my shoulder at the bastard that threw the throwing star. “Didn’t you learn as a child not to throw things inside?”

Blender shrugs, looking bored. “I just wanted to make sure that some of the lessons we learned over the years were still there.”

“You’re a fucking dick. Let’s go before Pres has our ass for missing church,” I chuckle, shaking my head and wiping at the blood on my ear.

I step out of the building and greet the two prospects as they show up. “Make sure it’s done right.”

“Yes, sir,” they say in unison.

When I make it over to my bike, I throw my leg over it, taking a seat and wait on my brother to make his way out of the slaughterhouse. As I sit here, the sky lights up with another brilliant flash of lighting, causing the hair on my body to stand on end. It seems the sky is just as fucking pissed as we are about what that fucker had to say. The thunder rolls through just as Blender comes marching out to his bike.

“Finally done with your little art project?” I raise an eyebrow.

Blender’s grin reminds me he’s a touch crazier than the rest of us. “I decided a message needed to be sent. The Kings are pissed and coming for whoever is in charge of that shit show.”

I shake my head, turning my baby over, letting her rumble before shifting into gear and tearing out of the parking lot toward the Kings clubhouse. When we hit the road, we open our bikes and let them run, knowing there isn’t going to be anyone out on these roads at this time of night. Blender and I run side by side as the thunder and lightning ramp up as if we’re racing the storm blowing in off the Atlantic. We pull up to the massive steel gates, nodding at the prospect as we roll through. The driveway to the clubhouse is down a long driveway.

When the Kings opened the Georgia chapter, they bought thirty-five acres that the clubhouse itself sits on just outside of Savannah, Ga. As the club grew and the need to wash the money coming in from our import, export, and protection details, they set up several businesses.

The club purchased about two hundred and fifty acres where they built and run a slaughterhouse and butcher shop. On the same piece of property, we also raise cattle, pigs, goats, and chickens. There is also a cleaning service, a bar, and a boat tour company. We strategically positioned businesses throughout the city, providing safe havens when necessary. All the brothers divided up to help run the businesses—that way we have as few outsiders as possible.

We pull up in front of the large barn that was transformed into our clubhouse, parking our bikes in the line with the others. By the looks of it, Pres called everyone in. I don't know if that’s because he has news about something else or if it’s about what we learned tonight. I drop my kickstand down and pull the helmet off my head. I stand and stretch, trying to loosen the tight muscle in my shoulders and neck.

Entering the clubhouse behind Blender, I smile when the smell of booze and sex hit me in the face. Home —that’s where I am when I’m in the club. Opening my eyes, I take in the party raging in front of me. There are brothers and club whores drinking and having a good time. A small hand with red nails snakes around my waist, cupping my cock through my jeans.

“I know it’s going to be a good fucking night when you’re here,” Roxy purrs in my ear.

I glance over my shoulder at her with a smirk on my lips as I wrap my fingers around her small wrist, pulling the unwanted touch from my body. “I don’t recall giving you permission to fucking touch me. There are a lot of new playthings here tonight. Don’t push your luck by placing a claim that isn’t yours to place.”

Her hand clinches in a fist as fire fills her eyes. “You’re a fucking asshole, you know that?”

Lifting one shoulder, I shrug, “I am who I fucking am. Now, are you going to go find another brother to sink your claws in or get on your knees?”

We stare at each other silently. I raise a brow in question. Roxy huffs, snatching her hand away storming over to one of our younger, newer brothers. Sliding into his lap as she runs her hand across his cock and whispers in his ear.

Raider walks over laughing with a beer in hand. “One day, that woman is going to scratch your fucking eyes out.”

I take the offered beer, eyeing the woman. “She needs to figure out that she is nothing more than a hole to be used. I’m not looking for an Ol’ Lady today, tomorrow, or ever.”

Raider slaps me on the back as he walks over to his current favorite club whore kissing her on the neck. Shaking my head, I make my way across the room to the bar, taking a seat next to Blender, who is drinking directly from the whiskey bottle.

“How long before church?” he growls.

“Good question.” I wave down the prospect behind the bar. “Bring me another beer and a glass of Scotch.”

Turning to my brother, eyeing him to make sure he is in control and not about to go off the rails, I probe, “You good?”

Blender’s dead eyes turn to me. “I’ve never been good and won’t start now. We need to get this done. It's been four goddamn years. I need to get church fuckin’ done so I can go relieve some shit.”

Understanding hits me. “I’ll go find Pres and get it done.”

Blender just gives me a stiff nod, taking a long pull off his bottle of whiskey. I stand going in search of Pres, doing a lap around the room. Not seeing him, I walk down the hallway toward his office. I knock on the solid wood door, waiting for permission to enter. When he gives it, I push the door open to find him with Lips in his lap grinding away. She throws her head back, moaning like a true porn star.

Smirking, I lean on the door frame, “I see now why you’re not ready for church.”

“Call church. I’ll be there shortly. Now unless you’ve got something else or want to join the party, get the fuck out,” Pres grunts fisting her hair.

Stepping back, I close the door and head to the common room, killing the music as I go. The noise goes quiet as everyone turns to look at me.

“Zip it up and put it away. We've got church, assholes.” I shout, making my way to the double doors with our club insignia burned into it.

I take my seat and watch as the rest of my brothers make their way into the room. Raider, our VP, takes his seat to the right side of the head of the table. With Terro, our Sergeant-at-Arms, to his right. Blitz, the Road Captain, takes his seat beside me and Blender sits to my left. The rest of my brothers and the officers make their way in and find their seats. It takes about ten minutes for Pres to make his way into the room.

“Let’s get this done,” Pres snaps, dropping his gavel on the table.

“Stevie boy told us everything that he knew before he decided to feed the pigs,” I snarl.

“That man told you what happened to Jenny?” Rhino whispers, his look of devastation at the loss of Jenny nothing new.

Rhino wanted Jenny to be his, but let her go to live a life that he could never give her. I believe on some level he blames himself for what happened to her.

“All he could tell us is he was one of the grabbers. He would grab them from the club and then turn them over to the men who would drug and sell them. The only thing he knew was he grabbed them and dropped them off at a shack-like bar on the edge of the marsh,” I recount to the room.

“That motherfucker was just a middleman,” Blender rumbles, rubbing his temples. “When do we go to the bar and hunt these motherfuckers down?”

“Soon,” Pres soothes. “Did you find out who owned the bar or where it was?”

“He told us it was on the marsh because that’s how they got the girls in and out,” I relay, making sure that I get all the information correct.

“Hermes, you do your thing. Make sure we haven’t missed anything in Stevie’s background that could lead us to the bar. When we have a location, we’ll deal with it. For now, let’s make sure there are no more surprises,” Pres states, dropping the gavel on the table and dismissing us.

“That’s not fucking good enough. Those assholes need to pay,” Blender grumbles low enough I’m the only one who can hear him.

“Go to the club and blow off some steam. We’ll get them,” I whisper back, eyeing him.

He gives a single stiff nod before standing and making his way out of the sanctuary and into the club. Sighing, I lean back in my chair, praying to whatever is in the universe that he doesn’t let his inner monster out unintentionally.

“Is he going to be okay?” Pope questions, rubbing the cross that’s always around his neck.

“We can only fucking hope. Right now, I need a damn drink and a taste of new pussy.” I don’t even try to hide how weary I feel right now.