Edge of Chaos (3 page)

“Later, Doc.”

Kayla hurries out
of the room, muttering to herself. “And to think I was almost attracted to
him…”

It bothers Luke to
no end that he has to be wheeled out of the hospital by another nurse, but that
is their protocol. Anyone with an injury like his has to be escorted out by
wheelchair. The second they cross the threshold of the ER’s double doors, he
hops out of the chair, wincing a little as his movements stretch his stitches a
little too much. He pulls out his cell phone to call a cab when he looks across
the ER parking lot and sees a familiar face; it's the doc who patched him up.

Doctor Underwood
is crossing the parking lot holding a cup of coffee or something.
It’s time
to get the doc’s digits
, he thinks to himself.

Wearing a sly
grin, Luke starts across the lot when suddenly a car near the doctor opens and
a large unruly-looking guy gets out and confronts her. Immediately, their
conversation goes from 0-60 in two seconds. Kayla starts screaming and the big
man is shouting and gesturing like an Italian woman. Luke can’t make out what’s
being said, but clearly the doctor is terrified. That’s all Luke needs to spur
him into action.

When he was in
Afghanistan, he saw the ruthless oppression of women all around him—the shit
always made him sick. On more than one occasion, after hearing of a public
stoning, his unit was actually able to administer vigilante justice on the spot
and it had been very gratifying. His mother had always taught him to treat
women with respect.

Before Luke can
close the space between them, the big man draws back his hand and slaps the doc
across her gorgeous face. It’s like slow motion. His hand slices through the
air, striking her cheek causing her head to snap around. Luke hears her shriek,
and the force is so great she spins around and falls to the asphalt.

Luke reaches the
big man just as he's about to cock his leg back for a second strike with his
boot. Luke lunges between the man and the doctor and strikes out with his own
fist catching the man square in the throat. He can actually feel the crunch of
the man's windpipe as it collapses under his fist. The guy’s head snaps back,
his eyes roll up in his head and his knees begin to buckle as he grabs at his
throat gasping and wheezing for air. As the big man slowly collapses, Luke
leaps forward, driving his right knee upward into the man’s face. The force of
the blow actually picks the bastard up a foot off the ground before he falls back
onto the asphalt, blood erupting from his nose like a pitiful volcano.

Luke grabs his
head by the hair with his left hand and slips his other hand underneath the
man’s chin. Just a quick jerking motion with his hands and the man’s neck will
be broken.

“No!” Kayla
screams. “You’ll kill him!”

Luke stops
mid-motion. “That’s kinda the point.”

“He didn’t mean to
hit me,” Kayla protests. “It’s just that I provoke him…on purpose sometimes…”

“I watched him get
out of his car, Doc. I saw you talking, and him just blowing his top and
hitting you so hard you nearly could've died. He deserves whatever I give him.”

“He’s not that bad
of a man. It's not his fault.”

“Isn't that some
bullshit, not his fault he hits women...” Luke sniffs.

The man on the
ground begins to moan and move about. Luke looks down at him and considers his
next move.

“No, he’s had
enough,” Kayla says.

“Who is this dirt
bag to you, anyway?” Luke asks.

Kayla winces and
hangs her head in shame. “My ex- boyfriend…He’s actually a Harbinger. You know
who the Harbingers are, right?”

“I do, but where’s
his cut?”

“He doesn’t wear
it very often anymore. That new sheriff told the clubs if he ever saw anyone
wearing a cut, he’d rip it off, burn it, and throw them in jail.”

“And just like
that he doesn’t wear his cut? What a fucking pussy! Someone wants to take my
cut, they’re gonna have to kill me first and peel it off my dead body. Sheriff
or no sheriff.”

Kayla smiles in
spite of herself. This guy’s pretty confident and he appears to have a sense of
pride and honor that seems to be lost on most...even if he is a loose cannon.

“Thanks for the
rescue, Mr. Madsen—"

"Luke."
He cuts in.

"Right,
thanks Luke. But please don't hurt him anymore, let him go." Kayla pleads.

“Fine." Luke concedes.
"Hey, you wanna grab a coffee when you get off?”

She smiles.
“Sure.”

“Great, when do
you get off?" He asks hopefully. "I’ll pick you up and we can go to
Starbucks or something.”

“I’m sorry, you
asked if I wanted coffee and I do…but I can get it myself.” She says cheekily.

“That’s cold, Doc…
icy cold. But it’s okay, I’ll catch you another time.”

Luke turns on his
heels, leaving the big man lying on the road in front of the emergency
department, and walks back to the row of taxis waiting for fares. He gets in
the first one.

“2025 Hegenberger
road, please.”

Kayla watches as
he drives off, wondering if she'll ever see him again, as the ED techs come out
with a stretcher to scoop her abusive ex off the pavement.

As the taxi pulls
up to the club house, a tall, lanky man, named Carter, greets Luke as he gets
out. They embrace, and then walk around to the side of the clubhouse to talk.

“Good to see
you’re in one piece, Luke,” observes Carter.

“You too, man. So
how’d it go?”

“We got a little
problem here.”

“I take it my
father’s alive?”

“He is…and he’s
got himself a hostage.”

“Dammit! How the
fuck did that happen? Do you have any idea the trouble that’s gonna cause if he
talks?”

“Of course, I do,”
Carter replies.

“We have to get
rid of him before my father gets in there and gets him talking,” Luke says.

“Yeah, that’s gonna
be difficult,” Carter replies. “Your dad’s in there with him right now.”

“Well, fuck! What
the hell are we doing standing around here then?” Luke asks. “What if he
talks?”

“Relax, dude. I
got one of my guys in there, too, with strict instructions to shoot if he
starts to talk.”

“Fuck,” Luke
swears. “Carter, you do realize the shitstorm this is gonna create if your guy
just caps him, right? My father’s gonna come after him and there’s nothing
either of us can do to stop him.”

“My guy knows the
consequences if he has to shoot the guy and he’s prepared to give his life for
the club.”

“Then he’s a good
man, Carter. Let’s go in there and make sure he doesn’t have to give his life
up just yet. Thanks for the heads up, I didn't wanna walk in there blind.”

“No problem, man.”

It takes a moment
for Luke’s eyes to adjust to the dim lighting in the room. Standing behind the
bar is a single prospect waiting to serve the brothers.

“Hey Luke, good to
see you’re okay.” The prospect hands Luke and Carter each a beer.

Then men take the
beverages and walk to the back of the clubhouse. There’s a thick, soundproof
door with a huge Suicide Kings logo painted on it. Luke and Carter open the
door and step in.

Luke’s mouth
nearly drops open when he sees his father’s hostage is Kellan, one of the
soldiers who served under Luke during his last two tours in Afghanistan. Luke
hired Kellan and five other veterans to dress up as Harbingers in an attempt to
capture his father. The operation had gone terribly wrong and as a result of that,
his fellow Ranger will likely die a very painful death.

The smell of
blood, sweat, and fear permeates the air, radiating from the center of the room
where Kellan is tied to a chair. Every stitch of clothing has been removed and
his body already shows signs that Luke’s father, Gunnar, has been working him
over. Luke studies his father as he walks up. His father glances at him,
without speaking, and goes on to select the next instrument of torture. An
array of knives, pliers, sanders, and other shop tools, which can inflict
horrific pain, lie on a table next to him.

Kellan is bleeding
from the gunshot wounds on his right upper arm and left thigh. Both appear to
be flesh wounds. There’s a piece of duct tape covering his mouth, leading Luke
to believe that his father is just torturing him for fun and not to find out
any information; at least not yet.

The hostage has a nasty-looking
third degree burn on his right upper shoulder and several smaller burn marks on
his legs and stomach. Laying on the floor is a welding torch. His face is
swollen and purple with bruises. His left eye is completely shut. He looks like
a fucking mess.

Having selected
his next instrument, Gunnar sets his chair between the man’s legs. He holds up
a pair of pruning shears in front of Kellan’s one good eye. It’s abundantly
clear to him and everyone else in the room what he intends to do with the shears.
Gunnar gets out of the chair and walks around behind the man where his hands
are held fast with duct tape. He places the cool edge of the metal shears
against the palm of Kellan's hand. His reaction is immediate. His muffled
screams of terror manage to escape the tape over his mouth and Luke can just
make out the word ‘please’.

Luke studies Kellan’s
face, and then when he has the man’s attention, he almost imperceptibly shakes
his head. He doesn’t know any other way to communicate to him not to talk.
Suddenly the man’s body goes rigid as he arches back against the chair. He
opens his mouth so far and screams so loud the tape actually comes loose. The
man’s face is a mask of sheer agony as he begins to rock violently from side to
side and back and forth. Two more brothers have to step in, grabbing his
shoulders and head to make sure he stays put in his chair.

Luke’s father
walks back around in front of Kellan, and he holds up a small trophy in front
of his face; it’s his bloody thumb. Gunnar’s hands, as well as the front of his
shirt, are covered in the man’s warm blood. Gunnar lurches forward, grabbing
the man’s hair in his left hand and he yanks his head back. As Kellan's mouth
pops open, he shoves in the thumb. Before the man can spit it out, Gunnar forces
his mouth shut and places a fresh piece of duct tape over it. Luke's father waits
for the man to stop moaning before he does anything else. Then after a few
minutes, he gets to what he's after.

“When I remove the
tape, you’re going to tell me who sent you and who the intended target was.
You’re also going to tell me everything else I wanna know or I’m going to
remove your fingers one by one and make you eat them. But…if you cooperate and
give me truthful answers, I’ll put a bullet in your head and you won’t have to
suffer anymore. Either you talk or we’re going to drag this out for a week.
Have I made myself clear?”

Kellan nods his
bloody head.

Luke's father
removes the tape with a quick tear and the man spits out his thumb. Luke
casually reaches for the 9mm he has tucked into the waistband of his jeans. If
the man begins to talk, either he or Carter’s man is going to shoot him.

Luke stands on the
outside of the circle of bikers gathered to watch Gunnar’s show, and goes
unnoticed when he flicks off the safety and slips his gun out, keeping it behind
his body.

Luke’s mind races
as he watches his father. What reason does Luke have for shooting their captive
before he can talk? If he doesn’t come up with a good excuse, the brothers will
get suspicious.

The sound of flesh
striking flesh catches Luke’s attention again. Gunnar's punch levels Kellan so
hard he rocks backwards and the chair falls to the floor with a loud crack. Two
brothers reach down and pick the man back up.

Gunnar puts his
face inches from Kellan's and repeats his question.

“Who sent you?!"
He screams. "Who was your target?” He’s enraged now.

In fact, Luke is
beginning to think his father just might lose control and kill the man himself.
Luke glances around at his other brothers. Their expressions are mixed. The older
brothers, the ones most loyal to his father seem to be supporting their leader's
actions. Some even look like they’d like to take a turn on the hostage. The
younger guys, on the other hand, who are closer to Luke's age and ideology,
look disgusted with the proceedings.

One particular
brother, Marty, is watching the whole show nervously. He keeps shuffling his
feet around and every once in a while reaches into his jacket pocket like he’s
checking to make sure his gun is still there. He must be Carter’s guy. The
tension in the air is getting thicker and thicker, to the point it’s becoming
intolerable. This has got to end soon. The longer this goes on, the more it’s
going to divide the club.

Once more Gunnar
takes his pruning shears and goes back around behind Kellan. The effect on him
is immediate; he rocks violently to the side trying to spill himself on the
floor.

“I’ll talk! I’ll
tell you everything just not another finger…” He wails and sobs in terror.
“I’ll talk…It was your gu—”

The enclosed space
echoes under the deafening sound of a large caliber gun going off. Marty, who was
standing right next to Luke, had whipped his gun out and fired a single shot,
striking the hostage in the forehead.  

Gunnar staggers
back, dropping the shears. His face and chest are bathed in the spray of fresh
blood.

He looks livid.

“Who the fuck did
that?” he roars.

The other brothers
are in shock and seething with anger. They were just about to get the
information they came for and just like that it’s gone forever. Gunnar turns on
Marty. He’s a terrifying sight. His eyes are shooting flames, blood and gore
dripping from his face, mouth open and shouting above the din.

“Why the fuck did
you just do that, Marty?” he rages.

Gunnar’s fists are
clenching and unclenching and he looks like he’s about to strike Marty. In fact,
several brothers are positioning themselves between the men to prevent just
that. If Gunnar attacks Marty it’s going to further divide the club and that’s
something most brothers do not want to see happen. Luke notices Carter has
moved over to his side.

“Do you guys have
a plan B?” Luke whispers in his ear.

“Not really.”

“Shit, this is
gonna get ugly fast!”

“What did he just
say?” Gunnar asks the brothers gathered around. “Did anyone hear what he said,
before this fool blew his head off?”

“He said guys…your
guys, I think,” says Mack, our Sergeant at Arms.

“I heard that
too,” echo several other voices.

“You guys don’t
get it!” Luke announces over the rest of the voices.

“What are you
talking about?” Gunnar asks.

“As much as you
like torture,” Luke begins. “We both know that pain never gets you the truth.
You put someone in enough pain and he’ll say the quickest lie he can think of
to stop the pain. Five minutes with him and we’d never trust each other again.
Marty did us all a huge favor.”

Gunnar doesn’t
look completely convinced, but most of the other guys do. “Prospects!” he yells.

The door opens and
three of the Suicide Kings prospects appear. They’re not prepared for what they
see. One of them even turns and vomits in a trash can.

Gunnar glares at them
with a disgusted look on his face. “You guys need to make the body disappear
and clean up this room.”

The prospects jump
to it, including the guy who just blew chunks.

“Officers…conference
room now!” Gunnar announces.

A few minutes
later Gunnar, Luke, the Sergeant at Arms, Treasurer, and Secretary are all
seated at a giant oak table. The table is one huge slab of highly polished wood
with the Suicide Kings patch carved into it. It’s an impressive piece of
furniture.

Gunnar pounds the
gavel and opens the meeting.

“So, am I the only
one worried about what that guy said before Marty blew his head off?”