Torched (36 page)

“Why the fuck is this asshole still breathing?” Squid hissed.

Liv ignored his question and kept talking. “One night, when I was seventeen, I accidentally walked in on a deal. It wasn’t intentional, they’d left the basement door unlocked and it was time to go make dinner. I didn’t see it as a big deal, I’d already caught on to how they made their money, but Mitch and Vince felt the need to teach me a lesson in keeping my mouth shut. They drove me out to a forest in the middle of the night. I thought they were about to kill me, but they pulled a body out of the trunk.”

“Oh, come on,” Mace huffed.

She nodded. “They told me to dig a grave and bury him.”

Torch couldn’t tell what the fuck he was feeling anymore, aside from the feeling of his chest caving in from the weight of trying not to go postal.

“Something weird happened that night,” she explained, “I did what I was told—not wanting to end up like
that
guy—and somehow managed to impress them. For the first time, I didn’t get hit when I ran my mouth. And Mitch wasn’t as vicious as usual when we got back to the house. That was when I realized I had to play it from a different angle if I wanted to survive. I started volunteering to be their errand bitch. Pretty soon I was doing a lot more for them. I made drops, picked locks, played decoy, and drove getaway rides. Anything they asked really. Even the violence rubbed off on me toward the end, I got pretty good at getting information out of people by any means necessary. It bought me a bit of freedom and enough respect to where the abuse died down a little. They still got rough to keep me in line, but it wasn’t a daily thing anymore. Unfortunately, I hadn’t thought that plan all the way through, because by getting more involved in their business, I got in too deep to try running again. By the time my eighteenth birthday rolled around, I knew too much, too many people knew my face, the brothers had expanded into neighboring states, and Mitch even had cops on payroll. Anything half-assed would’ve spelled death for me. So, for the next couple of years, I kept up the charade and waited for an opportunity.”

Torch’s blood boiled at the thought of her being forced into a life of crime and violence. He could relate to that too, and understood why she’d done it, but women just weren’t meant to live those kinds of lives. It was all coming together—her distrust of the law, familiarity around criminals, and insistence on being able to handle her own business—but there was still one event unaccounted for.

“What happened at the warehouse, baby?” he implored.

She twisted her neck to stretch it out and cracked her knuckles. “That night, I went to the warehouse with Vince. They’d just had a shipment leave the day before, so it was empty. I had no idea why we were stopping by. We went inside and he left me alone to take a call. I was pacing around when I heard a scraping sound coming from upstairs. It was one of those buildings were the second floor wraps around and looks down on the first. I followed it to one of the rooms. There were ten girls in there, tied to cots and gagged. I freed one of them and she explained that they’d been picked up a few days before. They didn’t know what was happening, but they’d overheard two men talking about some kind of auction.”

“Human trafficking. Fantastic,” Torch mumbled.

Liv nodded and looked down. “I just… I lost it. I could deal with the drugs and guns and fuck else, but there was no way I could be part of something like that. I knew what it was like to be a slave. Right then and there, I decided I’d rather die than let another girl go through what I had. I knew I probably wouldn’t make it out alive, so I cut them all loose and pointed them to a fire escape. I told them to run and keep their mouths shut.”

Torch exhaled and scrubbed his beard. “Why didn’t you go with them?”

“Because I figured Vince would come looking for me at any minute. He was carrying, I wasn’t. I thought they’d have a better chance if I distracted him so they could get a running start, rather than having him catch all of us and start firing. One person’s life to save ten. It was the right call. When I heard him coming up the stairs, I decided to meet him halfway and go out swinging. I took off running and slammed into him right as he got to the last step. We both went flying down, but he took the brunt of the fall. I still don’t know how that didn’t at least knock him out, but before I knew it, he was swinging at me. I think he hurt his back though, he couldn’t move his legs. I managed to squirm away and grab his gun. That was when I saw his knife on the floor. When he started talking shit, I just… I snapped. I couldn’t see past the fucking rage. A bullet would’ve been easier, but I wanted to make him suffer. I attacked. I pinned him down so he couldn’t fight back, pushed his head to the side so I wouldn’t end up covered in blood, and cut his throat open.”

A blood-thirsty Mace hollered and clapped. “Fuck yeah!” Everybody else followed and joined in on the applause.

Liv looked around in surprise, then back at Torch. “Really?” she asked, barely audible over the ruckus.

“They like a happy ending,” he replied with a shrug. “Alright fuckers, calm down. Storytime’s not over yet.” They could talk about her strong stomach and homicidal tendencies later. She still hadn’t accounted for Mitch’s part in all this.

She smiled, shook her head, and kept going. “I don’t remember much after that, honestly. Vince was still gasping for air when Mitch surprised me from behind and threw me to the ground. I guess that was when he got his first look at what I’d done, otherwise I figure he would’ve shot me first. We struggled, he managed to wrestle the knife away, and at some point he went for my neck but missed and stabbed me in the shoulder instead. Next thing I know, I’m staring down a barrel and the cops are rushing in. I passed out and woke up a couple hours later at the hospital.”

Christ. The woman had taken on two crazy motherfuckers and lived to tell about it. A new sense of respect was emerging. “The report said there was a 911 call about a shooting—”

“I think one of the girls did that to help me, I don’t know who else would have. I wish I knew who it was though, they saved my life.” She looked like she was about to get lost in thought, but snapped out of it and kept going. “When I woke up there was a DEA agent waiting to question me. They’d been watching Mitch and Vince for a few weeks. I gave her the name Chloe James buy time and cover my ass. I was long past the point of being able to claim coercion in any of my crimes and I didn’t want to go away for being an accomplice. So I took the victim angle, feigned memory loss, and came up with an ambiguous story. I knew the cops would find my DNA in the house and some of the neighbors knew my first name, so that had to be explained.”

He was starting to see a pattern in the way her brain worked. Every angle, every decision, every possible outcome, she thought shit through before she made any moves. He suddenly felt like he was in a nature documentary again, this time looking at some rare, endangered animal. A bitch who didn’t fall apart and turn into a goddamn emotional mess under pressure? He sure as shit didn’t see many of those in the wild.

“How the hell did you get out of the hospital? Didn’t they have you under guard?” he asked.

“There was a cop posted at my door. I just used my mouth on that one and convinced him to let me take a walk around the floor. I called Lexi from a room on the floor below. I stole clothes from the patient who was sleeping in there, which was kind of a low point actually. After that, I walked right out the front entrance and waited for her and Neil to pick me up at a diner. She helped me dye my hair while Neil put a call in to Snoop. They gave me a car, some cash, and clothes. Neil followed me to a motel a couple hours away. I slept the next day and then drove straight to the Barrel. You know the rest.”

He shook his head. “No, back up. Why didn’t Neil and Lexi help you out before?”

“They didn’t know. Neil owns a strip club that Mitch would drag me to. Lex was a dancer there. She and I got to be friends, but I didn’t tell her anything. I mean, she was the only friend I had. I didn’t want anybody getting hurt. Mitch had a lot of pull.”

“I get it,” he nodded. “Go back to Mitch. How’d they pin Vince’s death on him?”

“You know how it is, Torch. They wanted him locked up and found a way to construct a believable story from what they had. The three of us were covered in each other’s blood and Mitch used the knife to stab me. It made sense that my blood was on it too. They explained away my fingerprints on the gun by saying I’d tried to grab it during the struggle. It was shoddy, but Mitch wouldn’t talk and took a deal.”

“Why would he take a deal instead of pointing a finger at you?”

She shrugged. “My best guess is pride. Something in that warped brain of his convinced him it would be better to be known as a man who killed his own brother, rather than admit they’d been bested by a twenty year old girl. I think he saw it as a business opportunity too. You know, street cred and all that. It takes a special kind of evil to kill family and he’s capitalized on the reputation. There aren’t too many people who wouldn’t be scared shitless to cross a guy like that.”

“Except you,” Torch pointed out. “Jesus, baby. We’re gonna find him and end this.”

“No,” she snapped, throwing him for a loop. “That’s exactly why I didn’t want to tell you, I knew you’d go after him.”

What the fuck? He didn’t even know how to respond to that. “Why the fuck
wouldn’t
we take him down after the shit you just told us? Don’t tell me you feel bad for the motherfucker like you did with your old man.”

“No,” Live smirked. “Mitch Henslow is a fucking monster, a hundred times worse now than when I knew him.”

“So what’s the problem? Sweetheart, the guy’s got money and contacts.”

“Oh, he greenlit me years ago. Almost took me out twice.”

How the fuck was she so casual about all this? Torch clenched his hands before they took over and tried to strangle some sense into her. “Baby, he
needs
to die. He’s gonna keep coming after you.”

She sighed. “I know. But it can’t be you. Not right now.” She looked back up at him with pleading eyes. “Please… I’m begging you, don’t go after him.”

What the fuck was he missing here? As far as he was concerned, the sooner they got rid of Henslow, the sooner she could move on with her life, and hopefully keep her beautiful ass planted in his Colorado backyard. “Why the hell not? You’re not making any sense. We fucking owe you our lives, the least we can do is—”

“No,” she repeated. “If you want to pay me back, do it by respecting what I’m asking. Stop. Let me handle it.”

“Handle what? You wanna take him out yourself? Give me a fucking break. You’re done dealing with this shit. Decision’s made.” He looked around at his brothers. “Table’s all here. Any objections?”

Liv jumped up and pointed at him before anyone could answer. “This isn’t your call to make, Torch, I’m not your old lady. And I know the rules, you can’t take a vote with me in the room, so don’t ask them to do that—”

“How we run this club isn’t your problem, darlin’.” He growled.

“It
is
my problem, you’re talking about my life here. You can’t just stage a fucking takeover.”

It was his turn to jump to his feet and give her a goddamn reality check. “Well, somebody fucking needs to because you obviously have a damn death wish.”

“Oh please, I don’t have a death wish,” she seethed. “I have a plan.”

“Yeah? What’s your fucking plan?”

“What the hell does it matter? You’re gonna do whatever you want anyway, right? Just send me home with a pat on the back and tell me you’ll take it from here?”

“Is that your fucking issue? Control?”

“Jesus, you don’t get it—”

“No, I don’t. Fucking hell, Livia, tell me what the fuck’s going through that head of yours. Because from where I’m standing, it sounds like you’d rather be on the run the rest of your life than take a step back and —”

“Torch, I’ve spent my entire fucking life watching my own back and taking care of myself. That shit’s ingrained at this point, just like it’s ingrained in you to jump in and fix things. It’s your code, I get it. I respect it a lot, but I’m not part of it. Again, I’m not an old lady. And that’s the way it needs to stay because I’m not willing to let
my
problems come down on all of your heads. It’s not just you men I worry about, I’m sure you guys can handle pretty much anything, but the women and kids would have to deal with blowback too.”

“Babe—”

“No,” she snarled. “Listen to me. I know the rules. I don’t have dick or a patch so I don’t get to be part of any decisions. I love this club, I love what it’s about. I’d
never
ask you to change or bend those rules. But you know what? In a situation like this, asking me to take a step back and let you handle it is a fucking disaster waiting to happen for all of us. I’ve spent
years
tracking Mitch, staying a step ahead, and gathering the information I need to take him down. The man I met with today—Bastien—he’s one of his accountants who wanted out. I helped him in exchange for the money trail. It’s about making the right moves at the right time, not creating a whole new set of problems with a knee-jerk reaction. Do you realize how connected this guy is? You can’t just take him out and hope his allies lay down. If you go on a warpath just to kill him, what happens then? Mitch gets the easy way out, somebody else steps up to the plate, the
entire
club has blowback to deal with, and I have to move again because now his buddies are after me. I don’t
want
to leave. I understand you’re worked up because you’re just hearing this shit now, but the scars aren’t fresh for me anymore. I don’t need you to kiss it all better. Trust me, Mitch
will
pay, but with more than a quick bullet to the head. I’m gonna take
everything
he cares about and make him live with that for a while,
before
pulling that trigger. I understand that your code says you can’t let me do that, but mine says I can’t let you stop me from trying. Can you get that?”