Marek looked first at his son, then at me. His expression was unreadable, but his delay in answering made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. If he wanted to give Tag a quick death, he could’ve. He could’ve shot him or instructed Cutter to stab him through the heart. But he did neither of those things. Instead, he wanted to draw out this torture for however long, showing me and Kaden a side of him we’d never witnessed before. And I gotta say, it terrified me.
A nod from our leader was all it took to make Cutter smile, the perverse grin on his face sending shivers down my back. The guy was quiet and kept to himself, essentially not too personable, but I never thought he was twisted.
Tag bellowed when Cutter dragged the blade across his chest once more, this time in the opposite direction, forming an X shape. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the blood splattering on the ground, each drop tearing away all I thought I knew about these men. Shattering whatever ideals I held dear about our club.
Not only were they set on torturing the guy, but some of them took enjoyment in the act, namely Cutter, Marek, and Hawke, who sported a devious grin of his own as he watched Tag writhe in pain.
When Cutter switched the way he held the knife, gripping the handle with a tight fist, looking like he was gonna plunge it into Tag, I rushed toward him and grabbed his arm.
“You better get your hand off me,” Cutter growled, flicking his eyes toward me when I refused. It wasn’t until my dad grabbed hold of my shoulder and squeezed that I complied.
The second I took a step back, Cutter drove his knife into Tag’s side. The wail of pain that erupted from the guy pierced my ears as well as any sense of comprehension I held up until this point. Even if Tag was indeed a Reaper and had some sort of twisted plan for us, was that enough of a reason to torture him? What kind of war had our club endured in the past that made whatever happened now okay?
“Enough!” Kaden shouted, rushing toward Cutter like I’d done seconds earlier. Only Kaden knocked the ol’ man back a step, getting in between him and Tag. “I don’t know what the hell you guys used to do in the past, but our club doesn’t run like that anymore. Wanna know how I know?” He paused for dramatic effect. “’Cause I’ve never fuckin’ killed anybody,” he shouted. “This ends now.”
“You better move,” Hawke threatened, his shoulders rising to meet his neck. “You have no idea what you’re doin’.”
“Neither do you.” Kaden stood firm, even when Marek approached. Both father and son had their fists balled, and there was no way to predict what was gonna happen because neither Kaden nor I had ever been in anything close to this type of situation. It was apparent, however, Cutter, Marek, Hawke, Jagger, and my ol’ man had been. Probably too many times, judging by their comfort level of what was happening in this basement.
“Is this what you did? Kill people without givin’ ’em the chance to tell their side of the story? What if that was me on the table instead? Wouldn’t you want the Reapers to at least ask me if I meant them harm?” Kaden asked. “Or are you so hell-bent on exacting revenge for Mom that you’re blinded by the need to kill Tag just because he was related to Vex?”
Marek’s movements were swift and precise, gripping up Kaden and shoving him against the nearest wall, spit flying from his mouth in his rage.
“Don’t you dare trivialize my need for revenge for what happened to your mother. You have no idea what you’re talkin’ about. You’ve never seen all the scars on her body from what they did to her. You’ve never calmed her after one of her nightmares. So don’t stand there and lecture me when you’re talkin’ out your fuckin’ ass.” He released his son but continued to stand close. “You have no idea, Kaden. None. You and Linc live in a fairy tale. You’ve never seen what we have, which is the exact reason we went through hell in the first place. We wanted our families to have a better life. But this,” Marek said, pointing at Tag, “opens up wounds that never fully healed.”
“But what if Tag really is innocent?” Kaden asked, never pulling his eyes from his ol’ man’s.
“No one’s innocent,” Hawke interrupted.
“Then why don’t we strap you to the table?” Kaden barked.
Instead of Hawke responding, he smiled, enjoying this way too much.
“Please.” Kaden’s shoulders slumped. “Just have someone do some research. If his story doesn’t check out, if he really didn’t move back here from Boston after being gone for decades, then…” He gave a half-hearted shrug. “Do what ya want.”
Marek stared at his son in contemplation, narrowing his eyes before inhaling a deep breath. Once he released the air from his lungs, he turned to look at our VP.
“Call him,” he said before swinging his attention to Cutter. “No more for right now.” The ol’ fucker looked disappointed, but he threw his knife on the table, the clanking noise enough to startle me though I watched the blade leave his hand.
I didn’t know who he was, but whoever my ol’ man was gonna contact would hopefully put all this to bed, proving Tag was truly innocent.
If he wasn’t… then he’d be dead soon.
Marek stepped up next to Tag and leaned over him, grabbing a chunk of his hair and pulling his head up off the table.
“Where did you come from?”
“Boston,” Tag garbled, blood seeping from the corner of his mouth.
“Did you really not know your father?” Prez’s grip tightened.
Tag winced, but I doubted the pain he felt had anything to do with his hair being pulled and everything to do with the wounds he suffered.
“My mom sent… sent me to live with her parents when I was a little kid. I barely knew my dad. Then he disappeared.” Marek released his hold, and Tag’s head hit the table with a thump.
“Damn right he did,” Marek sneered. He grumbled something to himself, then smacked his friend on the arm. They both ascended the basement steps a few strides later. Hawke followed, but Cutter stayed behind. Although I didn’t trust him, he wouldn’t blatantly go against what our leader said.
“What about the hole in his side?” I asked, leaning down to get a better look. Blood continued to seep out, although it was slower than before.
Without a single word, the ol’ man walked to the other side of the room and picked up a blow torch. When the fire erupted from the end of it, he grabbed his knife and held the flame against the steel tip. I watched in disbelief when he then held the heated knife over the wound on Tag’s side, the sound he made at first contact making me wince.
“What the fuck is goin’ on?” Kaden asked. Of course, his question was rhetorical because I didn’t have an answer. He knew as much as I did.
But I supposed we were gonna find out if Tag would live or die soon enough.
5
“Let’s go!” Griller shouted in my face. I was barely awake, and already I was tossed out of his room and dragged down the hallway. Wiping the sleep from my eyes, I focused on the scene in front of me when I entered the main part of the clubhouse.
I wasn’t a neat freak by any stretch of the imagination. In fact, my parents used to yell at me all the time to clean up my room or put my dishes in the sink when I was done instead of leaving them all over the place, but I never once lived in utter filth like these guys did.