Broken but Breathing(Jinx Tattoos Book 2)(16)

"I'm sorry. I didn't know you feel that way," Jole said.

"I didn't either. Not until recently. I've been putting in a lot of work  on my own and with the doc. I'm navigating a brave new world. I don't  want to let you down, but I have to do me." The words erupted from her  soul like a carbonated drink shaken and released from its plastic  prison. The fear that had chained and gagged her released her from their  manacles. Over the past couple of months, she felt as if she'd been  living a double life.

"Am I at least going to meet this, Snake?" Jole asked hopefully.

Estelle laughed. "Yeah, he'd love that. He's out of town now, but once he gets back, I'll set something up."

"Was he the reason I couldn't get a hold of you on Valentine's Day?"

"He was, but it's not what you think. We had an anti-Valentine's Day. We  went to the arcade, loaded up on snacks, and saw an action movie at the  theater."

"How is that not what I thought?" Jole asked.

"It was just two friends hanging out."

"Sounds a lot like a date to me."

Estelle rolled her eyes. "There's nothing romantic there."

"Yet," Jole mumbled. "If he looks anything like the bikers on the TV shows, I wouldn't blame you for hitting that."

"Jolene!"

Jole laughed. "I'm not giving up on my mission of getting you laid."

"It'll happen when it's meant to and not before. The last thing I need  to do is freeze during the act, or burst into tears. I'll steer clear of  that until I'm more stable."

"What? Crazy sex is the best," Jole deadpanned.

Estelle snickered, and the tension between them broke. The argument  wasn't over. Jolene wasn't the type to back down immediately when she  felt strongly about something. For now, however, they were okay.





CHAPTER SIX

Snake

He didn't recognize the tan man with a greying buzz cut and a face full  of salt and pepper stubble. The white outfit took care of that. He  leaned against his car parked up the street and watched as he went  through the process of shutting down the store. He closed alone today.  Cracking his knuckles, he watched his sure, rigid movements. This was a  man who liked to be in control and maybe had some military training. No  one else wore a high and tight. Unless he's a want to be soldier. The  main lights turned off, and the beast inside him lifted his nose and  scented the air with glee. Soon he'd be allowed to take his pound of  flesh. Pushing away from the car, he made his way to the back of the  store. Every day like clockwork the man closed the store down in fifteen  minutes, slipped out of the back exit to his late model truck, and went  home alone.

The black van held Sharp and Sick. If they couldn't get the info out of  Hiram, no one could. But he'd take his time and work him over for the  hell of it first. He prayed he was tight-lipped, so he could stretch the  experience as far as it would go. Endgame was the ground. They couldn't  have any loose ends flapping in the wind. He quietly made his way to  stand beside the door. The amazing thing about small towns was their  lack of electronics. They felt so safe here. They didn't spend money on  cameras and fancy alarm systems, which made this entire thing so much  easier.

Minutes stretched like taffy as he rested against the brick wall. The  knob turned, and the hinges creaked when the door opened. He pounced,  grabbed Hiram by the neck, and slammed him into the brick wall. The man  groaned and jerked, but Snake tightened his hold.

"Please try to get away so I can break your worthless neck."

"Money's in the register," he croaked.         

     



 

"Not your money I'm interested in. You and I are going to take a little  walk down memory lane." Snake stepped back pulling him along. "You make  so much as a peep, and I'm not going to care about the talk we need to  have. Nod if you understand me."

Hiram nodded. Sick and Sharp appeared by his side.

"You want us to take him now?"

"No, we're all going to go for a ride together, the way new friends  should," Snake answered. He shoved Hiram into the waiting van. "Sit  down."

The man obeyed, and Data stepped forward, looping chains around him. He  locked the ends of the chain shut with a lock, pinning his arms to his  side.

"I don't know what your quarrel is with me, but I assure you we can work it out peaceably."

His voice made Snake's stomach roll. This was the ring leader who'd  egged everyone else on. He'd never forget the way he sounded. Bile rose  in his throat. He felt like insects and snakes had crawled their way  across his body and into the Sahara Desert of his mouth.

"No, we can't," Snake promised as the door to the van closed behind him.  He sank into the seat beside Hiram, unable to take his eyes off the man  he'd demonized over the years. Despite his normal appearance, he saw  evil that made the things the club did look like child's play. They'd  found an abandoned shed in the woods thirty miles down the road. Snake  remembered the place as a hotbed for moonshine purchasing. Clearly, the  still had run dry, or the cops had moved in. They set up their shop and  equipment there, sure no one would hear the man scream or have a reason  to come there.

Hiram narrowed his eyes. "How do I know you, boy?"

Gritting his teeth, Snake dug his nails into the fleshy meat of his  palms. It took everything in him to remain quiet. He needed to wait  until they were in the room. Blood was a bitch to get out of upholstery,  and he'd promised to make sure this didn't come back on the club.

Snake looked over at Sharp. "Gag him."

They shoved a handkerchief into his mouth, and Snake closed his eyes  seeing Joc and Jade behind his eyelids. Jade's brown orbs begged him to  set things right. It was the same expression he saw in his nightmares.  Jocelyn remained untouched. Sweet, and unsuspecting, she always viewed  him with eyes full of trust and the ultimate devotion. It ripped his  heart out every single time he saw her. It's impossible to hide from the  things which live inside of you. He felt every bump in the road as they  drove, never taking his gaze off the man beside him. He had a deceptive  laid back vibe. Most people probably thought he couldn't hurt a fly.  Snake knew better.

They pulled up in front of the dilapidated stone building, and he let everyone else get out first.

"Let's see if we can jog your memory. You may not remember me, but I'm sure you remember my wife and my daughter," Snake said.

The man's brown eyes flickered with fear in the dim lighting of the van.

"Yeah, you remember now, huh? You thought you ran me out of town with my  tail between my legs, huh? Turns out I was gathering my crew. We're  back, motherfucker. You ready to face grown ass men instead of women,  you cowardly fuck?" He spat on Hiram's, face ignoring his whimpers as he  stepped out.

"Get him in the shed and string him up," he instructed, walking inside.

Hiram went wild, lunging out of his seat. Thrown off by the heavy iron,  he stumbled and fell out, slamming his face on the van steps on his way  to the blacktop below. He knew what the man assumed when he said string  him up. The monster in him delighted in the man's panic. He could make  out the muffled, "I never touched them."

"No, you ordered it. Which makes you the worst one in my book." Snake  walked toward the building, mentally bathing in the anguish and terror  pouring off the man behind him. They'd rigged up lighting, spread out a  tarp, and set a chair up with handcuffs, just waiting for an occupant.  Snake removed a pair of leather gloves from his hoodie and slowly pulled  them on. Shutting down the moral part of his brain, he focused on his  anger and pain. Sick and Sharp dragged the struggling man in. Streaks of  blood ran down his swollen face. Karma's a bitch, and she's riding  shotgun with me.

When the man was handcuffed to the chair with his feet bound by rope,  Snake stepped forward. He threw a left hook that snapped his head to the  right. "That's for my wife." He stepped back and kicked. The heel of  his steel-toed boots smashed the man's genitals, and he let out a  high-pitched screech.

"Look at that, the little piggy's already squealing," Snake said.         

     



 

His brothers snickered.

"Now that you got your memory back, we're going to talk about friends."  He grabbed the back of his neck and pulled it back. "You know the ones  I'm talking about, don't you? I'm going to remove this gag, and you're  going to tell me what I want to know. Anything else comes past those  lips, I'm going to start cutting." Snake removed a knife from the  scabbard he wore on his hip; the tip glinted in the lighting run by a  generator. He ripped the gag away and the man spat out blood. "We're  listening."

"Didn't touch your babe."

"Wrong answer." Snake hit him with an uppercut that snapped his head  back. The man's eyes crossed. "Let's try this again, Hiram."