Page 10 of Ruthless Obsession (Royal Bastards MC Chicago, IL Chapter)

RUTHLESS

I saunter through the side door of the two-story clubhouse, jaw tight. I tried sleeping—four hours tops—after locking Sophie in the basement cell.

I’d crashed on the couch, barely home an hour, when I heard the patio door slide open.

Maybe she thought because I wasn’t sleeping next to her, I wasn’t in the house at all.

I lifted my head, just enough to peek over the back of the couch and watched her sneak across the yard toward Mush.

That damn messenger bag stuck out from under her hoodie like a neon sign.

The second she clipped the leash to my dog; I shoved on my boots and cut around front to intercept her.

My thoughts return to the present. I head to my quarters to try to get some sleep again, but it’s no use.

Her lips still haunt me. When she stood there staring up at me this morning, I had to kiss her.

I wanted to drag her upstairs and bury myself inside her—but I couldn’t get over the fact that she tried to leave.

After everything I’d done to protect her.

That’s why she’s locked in the torture room now.

A few hours later, I pull myself together and head to Prez’s office. I knock three times.

“Come in.”

“Good afternoon, Prez,” I say, dropping onto the sofa.

Prez doesn’t waste time. “You, Webbs, Flock, Psycho, and Squid stirred up some shit last night.”

A slow grin spreads across my face. “We torched three of Toby’s warehouses. Didn’t find our shipment, but we took plenty of other firepower before we lit up the place. Give me the okay and I’ll have prospects run it down to Prez in New Orleans.”

Prez nods, pleased. “Do it.” He leans back on the desk. “How many properties left?”

“A dozen.” I shrug. “One of them has to have our shit.”

“This is a win for the Royal Bastards,” he says.

“Damn right it is.”

He runs his fingers through his golden-brown hair. “So… how’s your little captive? She like the house?”

My jaw flexes. I don’t want to talk about her.

“She cooked for Psycho and me.”

“Find out if she’s been feeding intel to her brother?”

“She hasn’t spoken to him in seven years.”

His brow lifts. “Why?”

I won’t tell him I think her brother helped get rid of the biker who tried to rape her.

I knew Sophie didn’t tell me she killed the Hellraiser prospect, but it was implied.

Especially when she said he wouldn’t ever be a problem.

That only meant he was dead. I’m guessing her brother made that happen.

Prez strokes his beard. “Bring her in. I want to meet her.”

I rub my bearded jaw. “She’s not here. I left her at the house. She’s tied up for a couple of days.”

His stare sharpens. “What the fuck does that mean?”

“It means she tried to escape and now she’s in the prison cell inside the torture chamber.”

He pinch’s the bridge of his nose. “You left her in the torture chamber?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m going to go. I need to find Tonya,” I say as I stand.

“You can talk to me, Enzo.”

“Not now, cousin.”

“We have church in fifteen.”

“I’ll be there.”

I stalk out of the office. Not wanting to think about Sophie.

Tonight, my brothers and I will destroy more of asshole Toby’s businesses. That fucker has men combing the streets trying to find what no longer belongs to him. I catch his men sniffing around here I will put them down.

Once I reach the top of the stairs, I walk along the banister, taking in the club's glory. I notice a few of the rooms are occupied. Legos and his OL’ Lady live at the clubhouse.

They maintain order. Make sure the club foxes keep it tidy daily.

When I have to kill more than one person I take Legos with me.

He has no problem helping to dismember a body.

I knock on the door.

“Yeah,” Legos yells.

“It’s Ruthless. Can I talk to Tonya?”

The door opens, and she smiles. “Morning. How’s your girl?”

“Not great. Can you check on her this week?”

“Sure. Is she downstairs?”

I shake my head. “Nah. She’s at my house. Locked in the basement.”

Her eyes widen. “She tried to run?”

I don’t answer, but my expression says enough.

Tonya nods. “Give me the keys and the codes. I’ll go now.”

I hand her what she needs, along with a roll of cash. “Don’t coddle her. Give her water and minimal food.”

Her face softens. “When this is over… you gonna let her go?”

I gingerly squeeze her arm. “Thanks, Tonya.”

My woman fucked up and she had to pay. “We just aren’t seeing eye to eye right now.”

I couldn’t wait until tonight to blow some shit up with C 4.

∞

Sitting in the large room where we hold church, I watch as my brothers file in one by one, filling rows of chairs across the room.

Prez stands near the head of the table arms crossed, jaw set.

I drop into a seat beside Viper. Psycho takes the chair to my left next to Lace—our secretary.

He nods once, and I return it. Python, our treasurer, leans forward, elbows on his knees.

Brillo settles beside him, and Legos—our road captain—plants his ass on the edge, arms folded like a damn wall.

I told Sophie I’ve been an enforcer for five years. I didn’t tell her I earned that title a few days after I hunted down the bastards who killed my parents.

“Good afternoon, fuckers,” Flex calls as he struts in, whiskey bottle in hand. He’s new, but sharp. A hell of a mechanic. He’ll be patched in soon.

Squid sits across from us—quiet, lethal.

He did time for a job gone sideways four years ago.

Our attorney got him a deal. Two years behind bars.

I keep him off high-risk work, but last night he wanted in.

I let him ride. Not tonight. Shit’s getting hotter.

Toby’s bound to have his guards on high alert.

“Order,” Prez calls.

The room falls silent.

“As you know,” Prez begins, “we’re still working to recover the stolen weapons shipment from Toby Fawson. Last night, Ruthless, Squid, Webbs, Flock, and Psycho lit up three of his warehouses.”

Claps echo through the room like gunfire. I scan the sea of patched-up cuts, denim and leather stretched across broad chests. Some rock heavy beards. Others carry extra weight, but don’t let the bellies fool you—every man in this room is ready to bleed in battle.

“If a word of this leaks,” Prez warns, gaze sweeping the room, “remember how long it took to earn that patch. It only takes seconds to lose it. Understood?”

“Yes, Prez!” the room shouts in unison.

“Ruthless, give the run-down.”

“Webbs, Flock, Flex, Psycho, and Legos are riding with me tonight. We’ll hit three more of Toby’s warehouses tonight.”

Anger courses through my veins at the thought of him planning to sell Sophie. I stand planting my palms on the table. “I won’t rest until that asshole has nothing left.”

The room roars with hunger to take the Royal Bastards enemy down.

We wrap up church with the usual round of updates.

“Ruthless,” Vanish says with a smirk. “Heard you’re back on the market.”

“That was pretty fast,” he chuckles.

“Vanish, give it a rest,” I warn.

“Just saying. Two baddies were asking for you last night. They’ll be back tonight.”

Sounds like the twins. Thought I made myself clear with them.

“They’re all yours,” I mutter.

“Ruthless is in love,” Webbs jokes, laughter booming around the room.

“Feral over her,” Psycho adds, halting beside me. “None of y’all even look at her,” he mocks with a grin.

The whole room loses it—and shit, I laugh too. Needed that. I slap Psycho on the shoulder.

He nods like he gets it. Like he knows I’m walking a razor’s edge.

My phone buzzes in my pocket. I glance at the screen and read the text from an unrecognized phone number as I descend the stairs.

Incoming text: Hey Mavis, it’s Sharlenne. Belle and I are ready to party.

Me: Sharlenne, that’s great.

I FaceTime her as I step into my room and close the door behind me.

She answers on the first ring. Big gray rollers in her hair.

“I see you’ll be all dolled up for tonight,” I say.

“I sure will, handsome. What do you want us to do?”

“Which of Toby’s clubs will be the busiest tonight?” I ask.

“Stars. It’s closer to downtown.”

“Can Sharon get you two into VIP?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Snap pics of everyone in VIP. Keep it subtle.”

“No problem.”

“Also let me know if there’s a sex dungeon there. I’m trying to see if that’s a feature I’d like to add to the downtown location.”

“We’ll dig into it.” She smiles.

Send me your cash app. And I’ll send enough money for you two to hang out tonight and tomorrow. Update me Sunday.”

“We got you covered, boss.”

I chuckle. “Have fun.”

I disconnect the call.

I plan to learn all the ins and outs of his clubs. I grin like the mad man I am.

∞

Webbs drives ahead in the box truck. Once we're close, we kill the headlights and walk our bikes the rest of the way, parking across the parking lot near Toby’s warehouse. The area is dim, lit only by a single streetlamp in the far corner of the lot.

We’re dressed in all black—dark caps, cargo pants, and skeleton neck gaiters rest loose around our throats, ready to go up when the time comes. A duffel with explosives and gear is slung across my back.

Psycho works his magic from the truck, hacking the CTV feed in the area checking for vehicles approaching the warehouse. I scan the perimeter as we move.

“Flock, how many guards?” I mutter as we get close.

“Counted four earlier,” he says, drawing his Glock.

“Be alert,” I tell the crew.

We raise our gaiters and melt into the shadows.

Flex creeps up to the lock, planting a brick of C4. I pull my Glock and lift a hand, signaling the countdown.

“Psycho, kill the lights inside,” I say into the earpiece.

“Already on it,” he replies.

I count down silently. At zero, Flex hits the trigger.

The warehouse door blows clean off, crashing onto a patch of grass. We storm the opening, weapons drawn, tactical lights cutting through the dark.

Gunfire erupts immediately. Men in black—Toby’s soldiers open up with machine guns. We split up and duck behind crates, returning fire in tight bursts.