Nasty Bastard (Grim Bastards MC Book 4) (19 page)

“Your fucking dad and Rocky went out on their own and brought Torch in.” Boz looks my way, running a hand over his face. “They fucked him up bad, brother. The motherfucker’s covered in blood from head to toe. Don’t know how the hell he’s gonna be able to answer any of our questions when he can barely open his damn mouth.”

Boz goes quiet for a second then mumbles, “I don’t know if he’ll live long enough for us to even ask any.”

My mind whirls with questions. Mostly, though, I’m focused on the fact the fucker is here. After all these years, he’s here and will never walk away. I can make him pay for what he did to Gidget. I can bury his ass for getting my sister hooked on drugs. A million different ideas fill my head, each one more sadistic than the last.

“Where the hell is he?” I ask, voice filled with anticipation as I envision finally getting my hands on the bastard.

“He’s in the basement. Brew’s keeping an eye on him as Doc patches him up the best he can,” Boz answers, looking over at me for a second then jerking his eyes to my dad and Rocky. “Figure one of them will call and let us know if the bastard dies before we get down there to question him.”

“He’ll live. He’ll just be in a lot of fucking pain every time he takes a breath.” For the first time, I notice Dad standing in the corner with his arms crossed over his chest. “Told you the little punk didn’t know shit about Stone’s money in the first place. Rocky and I have been doing this shit since before you were even a twinkle in your daddy’s eye. We know how to get answers out of a man without killing him.”

I take in Dad, noticing the blood stains on his clothes and the bruised knuckles. What I notice most is his eyes. Since Sheila died, they’ve held a hard edge that wasn’t there when I was growing up. Now, they seem relaxed. He got the retribution he needed, and he’s finally able to release some of the guilt he has felt since her death.

“Where the fuck did you find Torch?” I ask, wondering how the fuck Dad got his hands on Torch, without me knowing anything about it. “I thought we were bringing him in next week?”

“I thought Round could be trusted to do as he was told.” Boz walks over to Dad, pointing a finger in his face. “I thought I could tell him what we had planned for Torch and the information Hack found about his aunt. I truly thought he was gonna keep out of it, like I fucking told him to do, but I was wrong. Instead, he pulled Rocky in to this shit and watched the aunt’s house. Torch showed up early. Instead of calling us, they grabbed him themselves.”

Dad doesn’t step back, not even the barest inch. “He destroyed my daughter, killed my little girl. Nothing you can say is gonna take away the fact it was my right to bring the fucker down. If you don’t agree, take my fucking cut.”

The tension kicks up another notch, letting us all know that Boz is about to blow. I can’t let that happen. I can’t let him lay his hands on Dad. If he wants to punish him, that’s his choice. Right now, though, he needs to think about what really matters—getting the answers we need from Torch.

“You can handle Dad later. Right now, it’s time to question Torch,” I say, knowing Dad will pay for not doing as he was told but not lose his cut. “If he’s as bad as you say, I want a go at him before he draws his last breath.”

Boz jerks his head in my direction, eyes burning bright with anger. “Oh, we will question him. I just figured we may want to wait until he wakes up. Kind of hard to question a man when he’s unconscious.”

As if his words were a signal, his phone dings with a text. He pulls it out, quickly reads the message, and stuffs it back in his pocket. “Doc’s done patching him up, and the stupid fucker’s awake.”

Relief pours over me, knowing I won’t miss my chance at retribution. My anger at Torch has grown into pure fucking fury as each year has passed. He has to pay for laying his hands on my woman, but he has to die for killing my baby sister.

I walk toward the door, ready to get this shit over with. “Let’s find out where our fucking money is then make sure he never wakes up again.”

Gidget

After watching Scooby Doo and reading Parker two books, I’m done. It’s bed time, even if he doesn’t want to go to sleep. I thought for sure that after the full day of playing he’s had, Parker would fall fast asleep after his bath, but I couldn’t have been more wrong.

I stand up and look over to where Addy is rocking Cam. “I’m going to put Parker down then go find my bed.”

“Me too. Cam kept waking up last night, so I didn’t get much sleep,” she says, looking somewhat doubtful as she stands up and walks over to Cam’s bed. “I probably won’t get any sleep tonight either, though. At least, not until Brew comes back.”

I nod, worrying I may have the same problem without Layton in bed beside me. “We can hope for a little sleep at least.”

I lead Parker across the room, his feet dragging the entire way. He’s been fighting sleep tooth and nail for the last two hours, not wanting to shut his eyes without getting to tell Layton goodnight. Every time I even mentioned laying down, he threw a fit.

He has been asking where Layton is since after we finished supper and cleaned up the kitchen. No, he’s been asking for Smoke. Somehow, he knows when I say Layton it is the same person as Smoke. I shouldn’t be surprised; my boy is smart as a whip.

“Momma, Smoke didn’t get to watch Scooby Doo with me tonight,” he says, still not getting into bed.

Leaning down, I place a kiss on his head and try to think of something to say. “I know, big guy. He’s working right now. I bet he is just as disappointed as you are, but he promised he would watch it with you as soon as he could.”

“I know, and he says a man doesn’t break his promises,” he says with all the authority of a grown man. “I told him, I’ll never do that. No more lying either. He says that’s bad. I can’t even lie when I spill my grape juice on the couch.”

I smile, remembering when he told me Freddy Bear spilled the grape juice. “He’s right. Promises are made to be kept, and you should never tell lies.”

For the last few days, Parker has been telling me Smoke says this or Smoke says that. It’s like everything that comes out of the man’s mouth is the gospel. A big part of me loves the fact that he likes Layton so much, but a small and very selfish part misses being the center of my son’s universe. It was just him and me against the world for so long; it’s hard getting used to the idea that someone else has taken a piece of his heart.

Picking him up, I place him in bed and lay Freddy Bear in his arms. “You like hanging out with Smoke, don’t you, buddy?”

“Smoke is the best. He shows me stuff and never treats me like I’m stupid.” As the words leave his mouth, a pain hits my heart.

Richard wasn’t truly a bad man. Granted, he cheated on me and didn’t spend a lot of time with Parker. He was also absolutely impatient with our son. If he showed Parker something once, he expected him to never forget it. If Parker did, Richard would act as if he was an idiot that he didn’t need to waste his time worrying with. I tried to shield Parker from the worst of it, but I obviously didn’t do a great job.

Shaking away the negative thoughts, I paste on a smile “What do you think about us staying here for a while?”

The words are out of my mouth before I even realize what I’m saying. It’s at this moment that the realization hits; I’m all in with Layton, too. He’s my man, and I’m his woman. Truth be told, that’s how it’s always been. Plus, being here has definitely been good for Parker. Even with everything that has happened, he has flourished under all the attention. But how do I know I can be sure it will continue to stay that way?

Parker gets a huge smile on his face and nods his head so fast, I’m afraid it’ll make his head hurt. “That would be the bestest thing ever, Momma. I could see Granny all the time and watch Scooby Doo with Smoke every day.”

Pulling the blanket up to his chin, I imagine how wonderful it would be to have the heart of a child again, to not have anything more important than Scooby Doo to worry about. I would give up coffee for a year if I could just spend one day worry free. That’s not gonna happen though. It’s one of the many downsides to growing up. But the upsides aren’t so bad. After all, I get both Parker and Layton.

I run my hand over his head and say, “We may just do that. We wouldn’t be living here at the clubhouse, but we’ll be close enough to see everyone as much as we want. You can even come to the clubhouse and visit sometimes.”

“Huh uh. I don’t want to go somewhere else. Aunt Trix said if we wanted to stay here, she’s gonna get me my own room and put pictures of Scooby Doo on the walls.” He pouts, shaking his head and sticking out his bottom lip. “I like it here, and this is where Smoke lives. I don’t want to live somewhere else. He won’t be there.”

Oh yeah, he’s attached to Layton even more attached than I thought. As long as things stay the way they are, that’s a good thing. If they change, it could lead to a hell of a lot of heartache for him and me both. Granted, I need to stop planning my whole life based on what ifs. No one can predict the future. Instead, I need to start focusing on the here and now. I need to give myself the chance to be happy.

“I was thinking that we’d share a house with Smoke,” I explain, hoping I am doing the right thing for both of us.

“Okay, Momma.” He stares at me for a second, eyes looking much older than his four years. “As long as Smoke lives with us, too.”

“Okay, we’ll talk to Smoke about it as soon as he gets done with his work. First, though, you’ve got to go to sleep,” I say, trying again to remind him it’s bedtime. “The faster you go to sleep, the quicker you will get to talk to Smoke.”

“Promise we’ll ask Smoke to live with us?” he asks, his eyelids growing heavier with every word he says.

“I promise, and you know I don’t break my promises. We’ll talk to him as soon as he’s done with his work, but first, you need to close your eyes and go to sleep.” The weight of my words nearly strangle me as fear that I’ve made the wrong decision works its way up my spine, but I force it away with a shake of my head.

As if my promise is all he needed to hear, his eyes close. A second later, his chest starts moving up and down in that perfect rhythm that lets me know he’s asleep. I carefully stand up but don’t walk away. Instead, I spend the next few minutes just staring at his beautiful face and hoping I’ve made the right decision.

Turning around, I see Addy standing at the door. Cam is already in his bed, so she must be waiting for me. We both stay silent until we hit the hallway. As soon as the door is shut, she looks over at me and smiles.

“You made the right choice taking a chance on Smoke. He’ll make sure you and Parker never regret it. All of you are going to be happy,” she says then slips into her room without saying another word.

I walk down the stairs praying she is right.

Smoke

My fist flies into Torch’s face again, sending another spray of blood across the room. The bone has long ago been pulverized to dust, leaving behind nothing but a useless piece of flapping against his cheek. His entire face is distorted. Both eyes will barely open, and he’s missing more than a few teeth.

“I swear… I don’t know… money is,” he gasps out, his words barely understandable. “He… never told me… anything… ’bout stealing from you. Fuck… I… no idea where… got the money… never even thought… ask.”

After more than an hour of beating, burning, and slicing into his already abused body, I believe he is telling the truth. Still, I don’t want to stop just yet. Causing him pain makes me feel so fucking good that I can’t keep the smile off my face. All those years of guilt are melting away with each moan that slips past his lips.

This time, my fist lands against his right side, and the next goes directly to his gut. “Tell us what we want to know.”

Before I can do more damage, Boz lays his hand on my shoulder and says, “He doesn’t know shit about the money, brother. Right now, we’re just beating him for the fun of it. It’s time for this to end.”

My brain screams at the thought of him dying so easily. This can’t be the end, not like this. It’s been too fucking easy on him. He took Shelia away from us, forever. A few hours of pain isn’t going to make up for all the pain he caused. Fuck, a lifetime of pain couldn’t make up for his shit.

Dad walks over to us with a grin on his face. “I’ve wanted to bury his ass for years, and I know just the place for him.” We all look at him, waiting for him to tell us his idea. “Right out back, where I can visit him any time I want.”

Brew shakes his head, letting us know he doesn’t think it’s a good idea. “If we keep burying bodies in our back yard, it’s gonna become a grave yard. Police ever decide to start digging, we’re all gonna go down.”

“I’m not worried about that happening. We pay those fuckers too much to stay away, for them to ever come sniffing around the clubhouse,” Boz says to Brew, before looking at me. “We can bury his ass out back, but I prefer the junkyard; that’s where the rest of the trash goes. Figure it’s fitting for this fucker to end up in the same place. Plus, no one would ever know that he’s out there. I’m leaving this one up to you, Smoke. Your choice. Tell us what you want to do, and we’ll help make it happen.”

I want his ass dead, too, but even death is too good for this fucker. My mind goes into overdrive, trying to come up with something he deserves. When it finally hits me, another smile spreads across my lips.

Drawing in a deep breath, I look around the room. “I’ve got an idea. Not sure how you’ll feel about it, but it’s what his ass deserves.”

“Please… no more. Just… kill me… Smoke,” the crazy fucker begs, as if I would listen to a word he has to say.

I reach out and grab a handful of his hair before spitting in his face. “This shit isn’t up to you, just like it wasn’t up to my woman when you beat her ass. Exactly like it wasn’t up to my sister when you stuck that first needle in her arm. You made all those decisions, so now it’s my turn to decide what to do with you.”

Walking around the room, I tell the boys my plan, hoping like hell they agree. “There’re a lot of things worse than death. I figure on the top of that list is being buried alive, knowing there is no fucking way you’ll ever get out. I’m thinking that would be a perfect punishment for this piece of shit.”