Page 36 of Gunner

I bring the torch over to him before returning my attention to Snake. “Where is Caleb?” I repeat.

“Eat… shit,” he chokes out, twisting in his chair as Crusher pries the fucker’s hand open.

I sigh. “Fine by me if you wanna make this hard.” I nod to my friend.

Crusher smiles, lightly clamping Snake’s thumb between the blades of the pruning shears. “Still don’t wanna talk?” he taunts, but doesn’t wait for an answer.

He clamps the shears closed, severing the digit while Snake screams in pain. Blood sprays onto the floor as his wails bounce off the concrete walls. Crusher flicks the open wound a few times with his finger, causing Snake to twist with agony. Then, he lights the small blowtorch and cauterizes his flesh to stop the bleeding. The smell is awful, but it’s a necessary evil. We aren’t done with him yet.

I grab a fistful of his hair, yanking his head back until his gaze meets mine. “We got nine more to go.” Snake tries to jerk his head away. “Let’s try this again. Where is Caleb?”

I have to hand it to him; he held out far longer than I expected. I think it was out of sheer spite. The bastard didn’t give me what I wanted until we took all the fingers on his right hand and carved up his thighs, removing slivers of flesh. But once Crusher tore off the bastard’s sweaty, dingy shirt, ready to start slicing into his chest, Snake tapped out, as most men would.

My eyes flick over to Crusher, who seems disappointed that his playtime is being cut short.

Snake slumps in the chair, his clothes soiled with vomit, blood, and piss. The stench combines with that of burned flesh and it’s a wonder I haven’t thrown up myself. His head lolls to the side. “I’ve told you what you want. Now…” he pants as if he’s run a marathon. “Let… let me go.”

Crusher cleans his hunting knife with a rag, checking it once over before storing it in its sheath. I silently withdraw my SIG and hold it at my side. “Who said you could go?”

Snake's eyes widen and he lifts his head. “Wait, I?—”

He doesn’t get to finish his sentence before I aim and pull the trigger. The look of fear permanently etched on his face.

“Have the prospects take out the trash. Let’s go.” I holster my gun and head for the door, Crusher following close behind me.

This ain’t the last bit of blood I’m spilling today.

15

GUNNER

This fucking day just won’t end. Is it even the same day? I don’t know anymore.

The sun went down hours ago. Just one more bastard on my shit list and all will be right again. We only need a small crew for this job, but it won’t be easy. Striker is holed up in a house in an abandoned subdivision on the outskirts of Carnage. Looks like the developer ran out of funds or maybe stole someone’s money and skipped town. Whatever the reason, it left a cul-de-sac of houses to rot in an unfinished neighborhood.

When I pull up with Crusher, Sentinel, Throttle, Venom, Reaper, and Country, my stomach drops at the state of the property. Dried bushes line the front of the house with trash littering the yard and graffiti spray-painted on the siding. A few of the windows are broken or shattered, but surprisingly none have been boarded up. I guess no one gives a shit about an abandoned house? It’s not like anyone’s gonna live there.

It’s a modest one-level building that would’ve made a decent starter home for a new family. But now it looks like the set of a horror movie… and a good location for holding a hostage. My jaw aches as I grit my teeth, knowing Caleb is in a place like this.

Noticing my clenched fists, Sentinel rests a palm on my shoulder. “Keep your head on straight, brother. We’ll get your boy back soon enough.”

Damn fucking right, we will.

Sentinel is the best at strategizing, so he planned our attack. That man can see things from a perspective most would never consider. He’s always watching, devising, thinking of various outcomes for scenarios that may never exist. But that’s how he got his name; he’s the watchman for our club.

“Striker is mine,” I confirm with my brothers. “And that fucker doesn’t walk away alive.”

“That’s a fucking given.” Throttle grins.

“We knew it’d be some shit when you claimed your woman.” My head snaps in Venom’s direction and he gives me a placating look before his tone turns deadly. “But if they’re yours, then they’re ours. And no one fucks with our club or our family.”

I’ve asked a lot from my brothers today and every last one of them has come through without hesitation. This is what it means to be a brotherhood. We live together; we die together. We protect each other at all costs. And we don’t take those values lightly.

The others nod in agreement.

“Then let’s go get my boy.”

Maverick gave us the details on this location before we left the clubhouse. We knew there’d be no one around, so pulling up on our Harleys was out of the question. Luckily, there’s a small ridge at the back of the property, butting up to another neighborhood. We all parked our bikes there and left Doc on standby, waiting in his SUV in case Caleb needs immediate medical attention.

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