RAGE: President & First Lady Of The Death Dealers MC (34 page)

***Raven***

Seclusion. It’s probably the only word to describe the state
I’ve been in since… I don’t even know. I guess “reclusion” would be a better
word. I haven’t seen anyone but Gage and Dr. E since that day I told Laurelyn
to go home. And seeing Dr. E was merely a necessity because he’s been checking
on my injuries. The first time I saw him, he told me I hadn’t eaten in three
days and he was putting me on an IV. Gage… even then, he was patient and
understanding, calmly begging me to eat. I don’t know how he does it, because I
haven’t even been speaking to him in complete sentences. I think the last thing
I said to him was a mumbled “thanks” when he sheepishly handed me a plastic bag
containing three different brands of pads, tampons, and panty liners. I almost
smiled at the thought of him buying them for me. Almost.

I retreated into myself, hiding away from everyone and
everything, completely shutting down. At least my body is healing. All that’s
left are a few scars and a nagging pain in my shoulder. Dr. E says I have to go
through physical therapy and even then, it will be months before it’s back to
normal. Both he and Gage have been begging me to talk to a therapist, but I
can’t. I can’t talk to anyone.

It’s not like I’ve been sad or depressed… just… numb.
There’s no feeling, no awareness or concept of time. I only know it’s morning
when Gage drags himself out of bed. I’ve watched him daily and it’s always the
same: he brings me breakfast, showers, and then tells me he has to check in
with the guys or one of the businesses. He’s back in time for lunch and is with
me for the rest of the day—making sure I eat and take my medication. Most of
the time, he turns the TV on and I pretend to watch while he works on his
laptop or his phone. Sometimes, he works out his frustrations on the punching
bag.

Every now and again, one of the guys knocks on the door,
they talk in hushed tones on the other side, and then he either comes back to
bed or leaves for a few hours. On those occasions, I know he’s off doing bad
things for me. He doesn’t tell me where he goes or what he does, but I know. I
see it in his eyes when he kisses my forehead before he climbs into bed.

Right now, his punching bag is on the receiving end of a
major ass-kicking. He’s been going at it for a while, longer than usual. His
hair is wet and sticking to his head and face, sweat trickling down his body,
making wet spots on his shorts. I sit up, pulling my knees under my chin, and
watch him. Has he lost weight? Am I stressing him out? Or is all the work on
the punching bag making him leaner? He looks good—amazing, in fact. And yet, I
feel nothing. That magnetic pull he’s always had is missing. He’s still a sex
god, but somehow he no longer has an effect on me. There are no butterflies, no
thumping heart, no ragged breathing. Nothing. Just an endless void. I’m a dying
star, trapped in a black hole of nothingness. And nothing can escape a black
hole. He should get away from me or he’s just going to get pulled in by the
gravity. Then we’ll both be trapped.

He glances my way and eases up, grabbing the bag with both
hands to stop it from swinging. His breathing is heavy, chest rising and
falling at a rapid pace. Our eyes meet, but I drop my gaze. I can’t look into
his eyes knowing I’m slowly destroying him.

“You okay?”

I nod.

“Need anything?”

I shake my head.

I feel him approaching but keep my eyes on my toes. He sits
on the bed and takes my hand in his. Still nothing.

“Raven… I understand your need to check out. I do. But I
can’t stand to see you like this anymore. Tell me, what can I do to make it
better?”

“Break...” My voice catches so I clear my throat and raise
my eyes to his. “Break up with me.”

“What?” His brows furrow in disbelief.

“Break up with me. Kick me out. Go back to a life where you
don’t have to deal with me and my shit. Be...” I feel the tears coming on and
raise my eyes to the ceiling, blinking to try and hold them back. “Be happy.”

“I’m not doing that, Raven. I
can’t
do that. I told
you we’d get through this together, and we will.”

“Why? I’ve done nothing but fuck up your life. God knows
what you’re out there doing trying to find this guy. Babysitting me is probably
affecting your businesses, and who knows when was the last time you had sex—”

“Stop it.”

My eyes snap to his face at the gruffness of his voice.
That’s the harshest he’s spoken to me in a long time.

“Just stop it. I’m not doing anything I haven’t done before.
How do you think I got the name ‘Reaper’? I kill people, Raven. I got so
fucking good at it that everyone saw fit to give me the name that personifies
death. I’m not the monster under the bed. Monsters check under their beds for
me.” He closes his eyes, trying to rein in his anger but when he opens them,
it’s still there. “My businesses are fine. That’s why I hire people. And don’t
even mention sex to me. That’s the last thing on my mind right now.”

That was a stupid thing for me to say. Why would sex be on
his mind? It’s not like I’m at my most desirable. He slides his palm to the
back of my neck, closes his eyes, and takes a deep breath. When he opens them,
the anger is gone.

“You wouldn’t be here if I didn’t care about you. I’m going
to find this guy and I’m going to help you through this, no matter what. We’ll
come out on the other side and move on with our lives. You want me to be happy?
Make me happy, because I won’t be if I don’t have you.”

“Gage....”

There’s no holding them back now. Tears stream down my
cheeks as his words flow through me. After everything, he still thinks I can
make him happy. How can I when I’m a miserable shell of the girl I once was? Is
it even possible to be her again?

I go rigid as he presses a gentle kiss to my lips. Since I
was in the hospital, all I’ve gotten are forehead or cheek kisses. I don’t even
know how to respond to his lips on mine. He doesn’t push me, though, only
kissing my forehead before heading to the bathroom. Stopping in the doorway, he
turns to me.

“You’re not going anywhere, Raven… and neither am I.”

I stare at the closed bathroom door and contemplate his
words. He thinks we can get through this and be like we were before. That’s
never going to happen. Things will never be the same between us.

There’s a knock at the door and I turn my attention there.
Usually, I’d let it go unanswered. They’d get the message that Gage isn’t here
or is unavailable and leave after a while. This time, though, I answer it. Tek
steps back, obviously a little shocked. He recovers quickly and gives me a big
smile.

“It’s been too long since I’ve seen that beautiful face.”

“Hi, Tek.” I give him a weak smile. “He’s in the shower. You
want to come in and wait?”

Again, he’s taken aback, but he nods and steps past me. He
grabs the chair in the corner, turns it backward, and straddles it.

“How are you, baby girl?”

“Okay, I guess. What have you been up to?”

“Oh, you know… hacking into systems I shouldn’t be. Same ol’
same ol’.”

I climb back into bed, careful not to flash him. Panties and
one of Gage’s T-shirts have become my permanent wardrobe. Gage moved all my
stuff from Lonnie’s a while back, but it was pointless. I haven’t worn any of
my clothes. My kindle and MP3 player sit unused. He bought me a new phone
because the guy who attacked me smashed mine to pieces, but it also sits idly
on the nightstand. I haven’t even turned it on. He set up my art equipment in a
corner of the room, but that’s been untouched, too.

Tek keeps a close eye on me, no doubt gauging my mood.
“How’s your shoulder?” he asks.

“Better.”

“Good.” He taps his fingers on the chair, filling the
awkward silence.

I can tell he doesn’t know which way to tread with me. I’m
about to try and put him at ease when Gage steps out of the bathroom. He’s
wearing a pair of those sexy boxers I love, so I wait for the flutter in my
belly, the clenching of my muscles, but nothing happens. I sigh deeply and look
away. I can tell he’s shocked to see Tek, but he doesn’t comment.

“You got something?” he addresses Tek.

“Yeah. But we gotta move fast. Razor already left with the
guys. Told him where to meet up.”

“Five minutes.”

“Got it.” He springs out of the chair and heads for the door.
“See you around, baby girl.”

“Bye, Tek.”

Gage moves to his closet and begins pulling out
clothes—black jeans, black shirt, and black shoes. When he slides on his cut
and covers it with a black hoodie, I know he’s off to do what he says he does
best. Gage may have walked out of the bathroom, but it’s Reaper leaving the
clubhouse tonight. He grabs a black duffel bag out of the closet and drops it
on the bed.

“I’ll be back as soon as I can, but don’t wait up.”

Noticing the apprehension in my eyes, he takes both my hands
in his, and kisses my knuckles.

“Be careful,” I whisper.

“I will. The prospects will be here if you need anything.”

Then, he’s gone. Anxiety eats away at me until I can’t take
it anymore. I don’t want to be alone right now. I pull on a pair of his boxers
and head out to find the prospects. The blonde trick who was all up on Gage is
behind the bar. She watches me with disdain as I pass, but I ignore her. Ron
and Booker are on the couch smoking, two Hounds hanging off them. When Ron sees
me approaching, he shoos away the one next to him. I raise a brow at him,
wondering what Chrissy would do with this bit of information. Then again, they
may not even be together anymore.
Some best friend I am.
Gage gives me
messages from her, but I haven’t spoken to her. Not even a damn text. I need to
fix that.

“Hi,” I say as I stand before him awkwardly.

“Hey.”

I really don’t know what else to say to him, but he
instantly puts me at ease with an outstretched hand. I curl up next to him and
he places his arm around my shoulder. As I settle into his embrace, he offers
me his joint. I take a long, hard look at it and think
why not?
Maybe it
will give me a little vacation from my own head.

I accept it, place it between my lips, and take a deep puff.

***Gage***

Raven consumes my thoughts as we ride. We finally tracked
down the man responsible for the drug they used on her. They call it Dutch Wife,
after a fucking sex doll. After all, that’s essentially what it does—turns a
woman into a human sex doll. My hands tighten on the handle bars as my anger
rises. Not a minute goes by that I don’t think about her lying there helpless,
being used and abused. With all my talk of keeping her safe, I didn’t. I told
her my name would protect her and it did the opposite. It got her hurt.
I
got her hurt. The least I can do is find the people responsible and make them
pay. I have The Pharmacist in my sights, and there’s no way he’s living to see
another sunrise.

Tek and I meet up with the others at the rendezvous point
and I hop off my bike. I give Razor a chin lift and he walks up to me.

“Scoped it out. Seems to be a warehouse. Could be a lab,
too, with the smell coming out of it. Got two men on the perimeter, two loading
a truck, and the truck driver. Don’t know how many on the inside, but your guy
went in fifteen minutes ago.”

I nod and grab my duffel bag, unzipping it without a word. I
hand out gloves, radios, throat mics, and night vision goggles. They all know
the drill. Each man reaches into the bag, grabbing extra mags. I tuck my Glock
into the back of my jeans, strap another to one ankle, my knife to the other.
Razor and I pull out our rifles—SRS A-1 Coverts. I love this baby. It’s
compact, accurate, and has a thousand-yard capability. I attach the thermal
vision scope and suppressor, and then look around at my guys.

“Ready?” They all nod. “Let’s go.”

This place is in the middle of the woods. I don’t even know
how Tek found it, but I learned to stop questioning his methods a long time
ago. We approach carefully, cloaked in darkness. Even the moon decided to stay
hidden tonight. We may just be a group of bikers, but we move with the
precision of a SEAL team. Once the front of the building is in sight, I signal
to Motor.

“See if there are any other ways in.”

The place looks unassuming, if not out of place. It’s
nothing but a big barn, at least on the outside. Who knows what’s on the
inside. I put on my goggles and take everything in quickly. It’s just like
Razor said. I can take out the men on patrol easily enough; the others are a
little tricky. The driver is behind the wheel. If he falls forward, he lands on
the horn, alerting everyone. The other two are behind the box truck and are
mostly obscured by it. We get a break when the driver hops out of the truck and
heads toward the woods while saying he’s going to take a piss. I send Crow in
his direction. This just might work out. I probably won’t even need the rifle.

One of the men patrolling realizes the driver hasn’t
returned and tells the other he’s going to check it out. I alert Crow so he can
handle it, then I toss a rock, drawing the attention of the other man. He jerks
his gun up, pointing it where the rock landed before heading in that direction.
I send Venom to handle him while Razor and I move to take out the men loading
the truck. We use the truck to our advantage, hiding our approach, catching
them with their backs turned. I grab one, snapping his neck in one fluid move.
Razor takes his time, choking out the other. Motor’s voice comes through in my
ear.

“Found a way in the back, boss. Got six on the inside,
including our guy.”

“Weapons?”

“Nothing visible. They’re just talking.”

“Razor, Venom, you’re with me. Crow, Allah, you’re with
Motor. We’ll come at them from both sides. Tek, cut the lights on my say.”

Razor and Venom look to me for instruction once the others
leave. “Once Tek cuts the lights, Razor, we take out the straddlers. Briggs is
mine.”

Tek comes on the radio, telling me he’s in place.

“Motor, we’re going in blind. What’s Briggs’ position?”

“He’s the biggest motherfucker in the room, boss. Can’t miss
him.”

I tie my bandana over my nose and mouth while Razor and
Venom do the same. Like thieves in the night, we move through the entrance.
Just like I suspected, this is no barn. We enter a long corridor and I hear
voices ahead. There are stacks of boxes just outside the corridor we can use to
our advantage. I signal the men and we all drop down, crawling into the room,
hiding behind the boxes. I take a careful peek over them to assess the
situation. With all the equipment in this place, it has to be his lab. Briggs
is in the middle of the group of men, a huge grin on his face.
Not for long.

“Briggs is in the middle,” I tell Razor. “You take the two
on the left, I got the rest. Motor, stand down.”
Looks like I’ll get to use
the SRS after all.
“Let’s go night-night, Tek.”

The second the room goes dark, Razor and I move into
position. I hear Briggs tell one of his men to check the breaker. He only takes
one step before Venom drops him. I line up the others in my scope and take them
out before Briggs can finish asking what’s going on.

“Tek, let there be light.”

He cuts the lights back on and I rise to my feet, moving
toward Briggs with my gun pointed at him.

“Hands where I can see ’em,” I tell him.

He does as he’s told but has a condescending smirk on his
face. I can’t wait to get my hands on him. Venom pats him down, taking a Desert
Eagle from a shoulder holster.

“I want my lawyer,” he states as I place my gun and goggles
on a nearby table.

“You think we’re cops?” I ask. “Think again.” I get in his
face and pull my bandana down so he can see mine. “I’m your worst fucking
nightmare.”

All the guys are gathered now and Briggs looks around
nervously. Razor pulls cable ties from his pocket while Crow grabs a chair. As
they tie him down, Briggs starts rambling about us not knowing who he is and
what he can do to us. I remove my gloves, take a look at Raven’s name on my
knuckles, and then punch him in the mouth to shut him up. It works.

“Search the place,” I tell Tek and Motor.

Briggs watches quietly as I pull up a chair and sit in front
of him. “Do you know who
I
am?”

He takes a good look at me, but I don’t see recognition in
his eyes.

“I have no idea,” he answers, spitting blood on the floor.

“Doesn’t matter. Dutch Wife… that’s your product, right?”

“Aah.” He smiles, licking his busted lip. “My pride and joy.
Took me years to perfect that one. If you’re looking for a distribution deal,
this isn’t the way I do business.”

“Not looking to do business, asshole. I need information.”

“Why would I tell you anything?”

I pull my knife from the holster on my ankle and inspect the
blade. I’m dying to see his blood dripping from it. “Oh, I can be very
persuasive.”

“I don’t even know you. What kind of information can I
possibly give you?”

“Stony View,” I say. “Who distributes for you around there?”

“Never heard of it. I don’t do small towns,” he regards me
with a sneer. “Small money.”

“Okay. Who distributes for you in Atlanta?”

He doesn’t answer, just stares at me like he’s bored or I’m
an inconvenience. I lean in and show him the blade of my knife. “Notice
anything about it?”

“It’s a knife.” He shrugs.

“Not big or sharp. No good for cutting, slicing… but does a
hell of a job when I need to poke holes into things… people.”

He swallows hard but doesn’t make a sound. That is until I
sink the blade into his thigh with all the strength I can muster. He squeals
like the pig he is. “Feel like talking yet?” I ask as I twist the blade.

“Motherfucker!” he shouts.

“No?” I pull the knife out and slam it into his other thigh.
He howls in pain but still says nothing.
No problem. I can do this all
night.
I stand and show him my knuckles. “What does that say?”

“Raven?”

“Yeah. Raven.” His head snaps back at the first punch. By
the third, I feel a few of his teeth give way. I stop counting after ten.

“Boss, found this.” I turn to Tek, breathing heavily, and
watch as he approaches with a black briefcase.

“Can you open it?”

He inspects it then gives me a maniacal grin. “Sure. All I
need is a thumbprint.”

“I like the way you think, Tek,” I reply, knowing exactly
where he’s going with this.

“May I?” Razor inquires.

“Go ahead.” I gesture to Briggs.

Razor cuts the cable tie from one of Briggs’ hands and
removes a pruning shear from his pocket. Briggs begins to squirm. I guess he
can still see. For now.

“No. You can’t—”

His index finger is gone before he can finish his objection.
He screams like a bitch this time. He’s crying now, tears running down his
face.

“Oops. You said thumb, right?”

I chuckle at the expression on Razor’s face. Fucker enjoys
this kind of thing.

“Move out of the way.” Venom steps up. “You play too much.”

He grabs the shears and I revel in the sound of metal
cutting through bone. Seems the men want to have some fun because Venom took
the tip of Briggs’ middle finger, from the first joint up. It’s a little
cathartic listening to his screams. Raven screamed and no one helped her.

Allah steps forward next and Venom hands him the shears. He
actually removes the thumb then gives Tek a confused look.

“Did you want the left or the right?” he asks.

“Which one did you get?”

“Left.”

“I need the right then,” Tek replies with a grin.

Crow moves toward Briggs and pulls out his knife. It’s
nothing like mine. That shit has a nine-and-a-half inch, partially serrated
blade. He keeps it sharp, too. Briggs can’t keep his head steady. The smell of
blood fills my nostrils and it smells a lot like retribution. Crow drags a
table over to Briggs and cuts his other hand loose, splaying his fingers on it.
One clean slice and his thumb is gone. Briggs barely makes a sound.

Tek opens the briefcase, pulls out a laptop, and then starts
rifling through the papers in it.

“Why… why are you doing this?” Briggs asks, his voice barely
audible.

I stand and stare down at this pathetic excuse of a human
being, now as helpless as the victims of his drug. “What were you thinking when
you created Dutch Wife, huh? What? No woman could stand to be with a bitch like
you, so you decided to take their choice away?”

His head lolls back. He’s losing a lot of blood and may not
be conscious much longer. I need to get something out of him fast.

“Who’s your distributor?”

“Prez,” Tek calls out to me. “Found something.” He shows me
a document. “It’s where the truck was headed. Address in ATL.”

“Well,” I say to Briggs. “Looks like I don’t need you
anymore.” I jerk my head at Allah and Crow. “Torch it.” There’s no way I’m
leaving this place standing.

“Please,” he begs. “I’ll pay you… whatever you want.”

I pull out my Glock and aim it at his head. “I don’t want
your money.”

“Who
are
you?”

“Me?” I ask, right before I pull the trigger. “I’m the Grim
Reaper, motherfucker.”