Page 109 of Throttle

He stands up and walks toward her.

Shit.

He unlocks her degrading cell. “Get out, little rabbit. I’m feeling in the mood.”

“Go fuck yourself.” She spits at his feet, but he grabs her by the hair and drags her out, kicking a booted foot into her rib cage.

“Stop! Leave her alone!” My scream of horror is met with the sound of Mya sobbing beside me as I grip the metal bars in front of me.

“Shut up!” The bruised woman yells at me, holding her side.

As they move toward the back, he secures her by wrapping his filthy arm around her slender waist. “Don’t worry, princess. I’ll return to you later. This one needs to be taught a lesson.”

Realizing her inability to fight him, she gives up. Defeat washes over her face and she becomes expressionless. It's almost like she has learned how to switch it off by now. Her emotions. Her ability to feel. Gone. Turned off.

I wish I could help. I wish I could save her. But I can’t. I can only lay my head back, sensing the cold, and cry while staring up at the endless ceiling.

I close my eyes, praying to anyone. Please let her present suffering be short.

THIRTY-TWO

Throttle

This is the most challenging task I've encountered, but I made a promise to Tequila that I won't go—I won't be present—and I already sent Brass. If I had to sit out on the sidelines while she broke that bastard's heart, then I sure as hell was sending someone with her.

It's surprising how I ended up liking the prospect. Trusting him with the most important person in the world to me.

I check my phone again. I was expecting a text from him by now, giving me the go-ahead.

What the fuck is taking him so long?

Tank walks over. “Chain’s calling church in five. Bullet had a lead on the tracker, but they must have found it because it’s sitting at the bottom of the lake,” he curses. “I also think Chain wants to discuss Pipe’s invitation to raid the men who killed one of their women.”

It took me a moment to notice that Tank had stopped talking. I couldn’t focus on anything except Tequila.

“Hey you good?” He leans an elbow on the bar, facing me.

“Something’s not right. I feel it.”

“With your girl?”

“Brass should have texted me by now. It's been too long.”

“Maybe they got held up or he’s beating the dude’s face in. Likely won't accept a refusal.”

I give Tank a death stare. If that happened, I wanted to be the one to beat his ass, not our prospect.

Just to double-check, I tap on Brass's name on my phone. Nothing. I call him, waiting for an answer, and when it goes to voicemail, my blood boils. “Fuck it. I’m going out there.”

“All right pretty boys, let’s start this meeting, shall we?” Chain shouts from the front stairs and Tank lays a hand to my back.

“Look, brother. If you need to leave, we get it. It’s your woman out there. None of us would blame you. Just promise me you’ll update me as soon as you get there.”

I nod, already jogging to my bike when Chain calls my name, but I ignore it.

I rev up my Harley and weave through the light traffic while following the address. The fact we live in a quieter area makes me as happy as a kid on a snow day.

What the fuck?

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