Page 14 of Risk (Mayhem Makers: MMM #3)

CHAPTER

THIRTEEN

Risk

“Then there’s no reason for us to tell you jack shit,” the brown-headed menace says, his shoulders set in determination.

Conan snorts, asking, “You want us to show you the golden brick road? I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but we don’t exactly follow the rainbow, dumbass.

Ain’t gonna be no pot of luck on the road you’ll be traveling.

You can either make it an easy death, or we get to test out some new instruments.

Feel me?” You know when Conan has hit his limit because that’s when his sentences become fractured and the word ain’t slips past his lips.

“What my brother is not so subtly trying to tell you is that we can make your last moments breathing tolerable or we can torture the fuck out of you,” Kodiak sneers.

“Personally, I’m hoping you shut down and we get to use the second alternative,” Regulator says, putting his two cents in. “I have some new tools that need to be broken in.”

I have something to admit that I hope gets them off their high horse and speaking.

As much as I want to pound more flesh to soothe my fury, I need their words more so I know what shit my old lady has stepped in.

Clearing my throat, and popping my knuckles, I state, “As my brothers mentioned to me earlier, I need an outlet to release the anger built up inside of me since your friend motioned toward my wife’s window earlier. ”

Conan smirks, jams his finger in my direction, and tacks on, “His grandpa’s tools of the trade have been shelved long enough. It’s time they see some freedom.”

“Y’all are crazy,” the blond babbles.

“Are you just now realizing that?” Midas asks. “You’re not the sharpest tool in the shed, are you?”

The brown-headed dickhead hangs his head, his eyes swelling with unshed tears as he explains, “I only took this position because I had no other choice.”

“Explain that,” I insist, aiming my finger at the pussy.

“You’re not the only one who’s had someone they love fall victim to this organization,” he confesses.

“When I was in school, my girlfriend came up missing. I saw her the night before, watched her walk into her house but the next day, she was a no-show in class. When the last bell of the day went off, I rushed to her house to check on her and her dad told me she left for school around seven that morning and he hadn’t seen her since. ”

“She just vanished?” Kodiak asks, his eyes squinting into narrowed slits like they do when he’s trying to solve a puzzle.

“She was just gone,” our guest whispers.

“I looked everywhere for her and later that night, her dad and I went to the police and filed a missing person’s report, but nothing was done.

They classified her as a runaway, but I knew better.

We were going to college in the next few months and we’d been making plans.

She was excited, she wouldn’t have run.”

“How did that lead to you guarding my woman’s house?” I ask through a clenched jaw.

“I’m getting there. I thought you’d want the whole story first so you understand how ruthless these people are,” he conveys.

“I do, but fast forward to the good shit,” I hiss.

The guys around me agree with me by either nodding their heads or emitting a grunt.

The guy, knowing that we aren’t fooling around sighs, tosses his head back, and continues relaying his story.

“Her dad was a drunk and her mother had left when she was young. So, I knew that I had to be the one to push the issue so I started going to the government building, making appointments with whoever would listen to me. Nobody cared, they all patted my shoulder and insisted that I was wrong because the cops said she ran away. People don’t just disappear without any sort of a trace so I started writing to every news channel I could think of, trying to get someone to dig deeper for me.

When one local reporter started making inquiries, got a little too close to the truth, I was snatched off the street and given two choices. ”

“Let me guess, you either work for them and protect your girl, or you get fitted with cement shoes,” Kodiak hypothesizes.

“In a nutshell,” the man acknowledges. “I wouldn’t be any good to her dead so I chose the first option, and I’ve hated that decision ever since.

I do get to see Melinda every other weekend, but we aren’t allowed to be a true couple.

We’re both miserable and have tried to find a way out of this mess, but every time we try, it’s like they know beforehand and stop us. ”

“So, they just snatch girls off the streets and do what with them?” I continue, feeling like there’s a hole the size of a crater in his version.

“Pretty much,” the blond adds. “I have a story similar to his, but in my case, it was my twin sister who was taken. I did make inquiries into her whereabouts, but I was seventeen and still under our grandmother’s thumb and she waved it off so the authorities did too.

Nobody cared and my hands were tied. I didn’t start making a stink about it until she was gone for six months with no contact.

That wasn’t like her, not when it came to me. ”

“Were you approached nicely or did you get too close like your friend and they stepped in to stop it?” Conan asks, digging for answers.

“I think I got too close,” our chained up friend mentions.

“I went into the underbelly of town and that’s where I caught someone’s attention.

Two days after going into the pits of hell I was abducted on my way to work.

They showed me pictures of Candace and told me that if I didn’t come to work for them, I was pretty enough that they’d put me to work in a different way, if you catch my drift. ”

“Jesus fuck,” Kodiak grits out. “This is a clusterfuck. What about this guy?” Kodiak asks, kicking the dead man on the floor.

“He was willing, he didn’t have any family who’d been taken. He was simply sick,” the brunette admits. “He was our boss who answered to another man.”

“Marshall,” the blond spits out the man’s name. “He’s one fucked up individual. He’s more sick and twisted than you could ever imagine a person being.”

“Your woman,” the brunette gulps, “is his favorite. He calls her his pet. It’s revolting and demeaning.”

“Get Auto,” Kodiak commands. “And make sure he brings his laptop with him.”

“On it,” Rev states, stepping out of the room.

“I want y’all’s names so we can look into what you’ve told us. If it’s the truth, we’ll let you live, if it’s not, you’re going to pay for lying to us, got it?” Kodiak asks.

“Got it,” they both agree, bobbing their heads emphatically, and looking a bit easier than they had a few minutes ago.

It turns out their stories are factual. The blond’s name is Callum.

True to his word, his twin sister Candace disappeared, never to be heard from again.

The brown-headed guy we’ve been talking to, his name is Branson.

His girlfriend, Melinda, her name lit up like the fourth of July on Auto’s laptop when he typed her name into the search bar.

Branson didn’t lie when he said he went to every agency he could think of to look into her case.

Unfuckingfortunately, neither of them know much about McKenna and how she ended up with this mentioned organization—which we’re still trying to get a name for but they’re like roaches, hiding in the dark.

Looks like I’m going to have to go to the source to get my answers.

We unchain the guys because they’re as much a victim in this as their loved ones are.

We don’t exactly give them freedom, but we are more accommodating to them and place them in a room.

However, we switch the knobs around to where the door locks from the outside instead of the inside before we head out to seek out McKenna, we make them sandwiches, give them a bag of chips to share, and a cooler full of water and Gatorade.

My feelings for them switched when I heard their stories.

Instead of ending them, I want to help them reunite with the ones they lost. Free them all and give them a chance at a real life outside of the hell they’ve been living in.

But that can’t happen until I take care of my woman. She’s our first priority.