Page 47 of Ronny

Elliot will not be leaving here alive.

The door is thrown open again and Brian, Olivia’s dad, makes his way inside. His eyes go straight to mine. “She okay?” he asks, and I know he is referring to Olivia.

I nod. “She is.”

Once all of the members are here and the door is locked behind us, the only way in or out is if you have the code.

“This can go one of two ways.” I step forward in front of Elliot, eyeing him, thinking of the ways I want to choke the life out of him. His arm that was shattered is hanging limply at his side. You can see the bone underneath the skin, looking like it’s going to break through.

I laugh at the agony on his face, the blood dripping from his head wound and down his temple. I don’t have an ounce of sympathy for this fucker, he could have seriously hurt Olivia when he pulled her down on the floor.

“You can tell us exactly why you were at the club and why you were trying to fight my brothers, going after his ole lady.” Lane steps in front of them.

“Our gang, we are here to save the children. Elliot and his wife, Olivia, were paid to give us children in bad situations to a home where they will be happy,” he says this with a smile on his face, his nose busted to the point it’s almost completely flattened to his face.

“So, kidnapping children from bad homes, and then they are sent somewhere else?” Lane asks.

He nods, grinning like we are just going to let him go. “But the problem is, Elliot and Olivia owe us either kids or money, and I was there to collect from him and his wife.”

Holy fucking shit. What the hell has Elliot been doing and why did he get my woman involved?

“Where do you send the kids to?” Lane asks, and I have to fight with every ounce of my power to not run over there and rip his head off.

The gang members turn their heads in sync to look at who was speaking.

He shrugs. “Some hippies out in the boonies. They give us a shit ton of money and we don’t ask many questions. We paid those two the money to hand us some kids over and they didn’t.”

“How many kids have you taken there already?” Lane asks, and we all look calm, but you can feel the rage radiating from everyone.

He shrugs. “Elliot was good about giving us kids until last week or so, and then he went off the deep end over his wife running off.”

I flinch when he calls Olivia his wife, because she is mine.

I look at Elliot to see if he is awake. He has one eye open, looking up at us, the other swollen shut. I can’t fight the urge to split the distance between us, so I reach into my back pocket and take out a pair of gloves.

“Elliot, I believe it’s time to stop pretending to be asleep and start talking.” I bend down in front of him, his head hanging toward his lap.

His breathing grows rapid the closer I move. “Aww, it looks like someone is pretending to be asleep, so I guess I will have to wake you up then.”

I wrap my hand around his broken arm, and he starts screaming and kicking his legs out at me. “Stop!” His face turns red, spit rolling down his chin with blood mixed in. A tooth is hanging out over his lip from being knocked out.

“I knew you were awake, Elliot.” I tsk and back up. “Are you going to answer for yourself? How many kids have you given away or sold?” I cross my arms over my chest, waiting, my hands clenching over and over.

Elliot is sobbing now, but I don’t have any sympathy for this fucker. He dragged my woman into some kind of trafficking shit and she could have been hurt, or fucking worse—killed.

“You broke my arm. I think I need a doctor, man. The bone is almost sticking out.” His look at his arm, turns his head to the side, and throws up on the floor, getting it on the gang member beside him.

“What the fuck, man! That’s nasty.” The member gags, and that starts him off, throwing up himself, and he makes sure to throw up on Elliot.

Fucking disgusting.

All of my brothers are cringing at the smell, then Elliot is back to screaming once again, and I try not laugh. “You are having a really bad day, huh?” I pretend to be sympathetic.

“But guess what, Elliot? I can make it ten times worse, and I will start cut by cut. Nail by nail, until you are nothing but pieces.”

His one eye widens at what I am suggesting, and I mean every fucking word. He swallows hard, looking to each person in the room to see if anyone is going to help him.

“No one is going to help you, but they will help me cut you into little, bitty pieces.” I walk back up to the wall and grab a knife before making my way over to Elliot who is trying to push his seat back.

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