Page 20 of Tripp

“Call me if you need to. Okay?”

“Yeah.”

Uncertainty weighed me down as I walked out of the cabin, and while I had no idea why, I knew the woman standing on the other side of the door had just changed my life forever.

Tripp

The smell of burning flesh assaulted me as soon as I stood at the top of the basement stairs. Pulling my shirt up to cover my nose, I tentatively walked down the steps, curious as to what the hell was goin’ on down there.

“How does that feel, you motherfucker?” I heard Marek shout, the roughness of his voice quite unsettling. I knew Psych’s demise was being carefully cultivated by our leader, but it wasn’t healthy anymore. Not that any type of torture washealthy, but his revenge against Sully’s father was taking a toll on him none of us could have predicted. He was coming apart piece by piece, so quickly I feared there’d be nothing left to the man I followed without question and admired immensely. He was transforming into someone else, and there wasn’t a damn thing anyone could do about it. We just had to wait and see what hell he’d eventually succumb to when this shit was all over.

Stepping into the shrouded darkness of the basement, a single dull overhead light doing its best to illuminate the dank space, I saw Psych still shackled to the wall, hanging limply from the iron restraints above his head. The man was a shell of his former shelf, his dark, shoulder-length hair greasy and limp. He looked like death. Fuck, he even smelled like it.

Marek stood in front of him, a blowtorch in his right hand. The flames lit up the darkened corner of the room, and when the torch touched Psych’s chest, his garbled groans filled the air. I hated the leader of the Savage Reapers as much as anyone else, but what Marek had been doing to him since he’d taken him had become too much. I wanted to slit the guy’s throat and end it already, but I would never steal Psych’s last breath. That was for Marek to do. His final ‘fuck you’ to the man who’d been his biggest enemy. The man whose club had killed his father during a routine run. And the man who’d abused Sully her entire life.

The Knights and the Reapers had been at war for as long as I could remember, going back decades; that alone was justification for killing Psych. But add in all the evildoings that he horrifically subjected his own daughter to, and it was a recipe for . . . exactly what had been going on ever since they’d stolen him from the warehouse where he held Adelaide and Kena hostage.

“Prez.” I walked up behind Marek and placed my hand on his shoulder. He flinched but never turned around. Removing the torch from Psych, he lowered his arm, the flame still on and bright.

“’Bout fuckin’ time you got here, Tripp. What the fuck took you so long?”

“Sorry,” I said, continuing to talk to his back. “Had some stuff I had to take care of.”

“Does that stuff include the new stripper from Indulge?”

What the hell? How does he know about Reece?

I didn’t respond, instead trying to remove the torch from Marek’s hand, a gesture he didn’t appreciate. “I’m not done yet. Step back,” he ordered, raising his arm and bringing the torch so close to Psych’s leg the flame licked the hair before burning through the flesh of his thigh. Psych’s head shot up and at first I thought he’d tried to plead with me, but the sounds coming out of his mouth were nothing more than hallowed moans. Sounds of torment so unnerving I had to turn my back and block out the image in front of me.

After several minutes, Marek finally laid the torch on the metal rolling cart, the clanking sound grabbing my attention. I thought maybe he was done for the evening, that he’d grab his cut he’d laid over the chair in the corner and walk from the room without another word.

How wrong I was.

What happened next flipped my leader’s world upside down, ripping his guts from him, taunting and clouding everything he’d ever known.

Psych’s lips parted and incoherent sounds poured forth. He was trying to say something, but we couldn’t make out what exactly until he cleared his throat, wincing in obvious pain before attempting to speak again.

“What did you say?” Marek shouted, stepping close to the shackled man.

“Family.” One word, mangled or not, we both understood.

“You don’t know the first thing about that fuckin’ word,” Marek spit at him, his fists clenching uncontrollably. The vein in his neck throbbed and I feared for my leader’s life if he didn’t get ahold of himself.

“Maybe you should just ignore him, Prez,” I encouraged. “Nothin’ this piece of shit says is worth listening to.”

“I know.” Even though Marek acknowledged what I’d just said, it didn’t stop him from probing Psych to continue.

“Fuc . . . kin’ fam . . . ily,” Psych spoke again, the two words not making much sense to us.

Gripping the strands of his hair, Marek balled his fist and punched Psych in the face, snapping his head to the side from the jolt. “What are you tryin’ to say? Spit it out already.”

Psych inhaled a shallow breath before opening his mouth once more. “I said—” He coughed, garnering whatever strength he had left before continuing, “Fuckin’ family.” Another short breath. “How does . . . does it feel . . . to fuck . . . your family?” Each word was strained, each syllable rattling the unbearable tension in the air. Psych didn’t make any sense, but he pressed on nonetheless. The evil glint in his eyes proved he knew he’d gotten his captor’s attention. Even in his current state, barely hanging on to life, he reveled in fucking with Marek’s head.

“What the fuck are you talkin’ about? You’re not makin’ any sense,” Marek growled, his frustration rubbing off on me.

“Yeah, what the hell are you trying to say, Reaper.” His club’s name tasted like poison on my tongue, but I refused to say his name. Something tangible bristled in the air surrounding all of us, and had I known what it was I would have killed Psych before he parted his lips once more.

Shifting his feet, the clank of the chains binding him to the wall filling the air, Psych lifted his head the best he could and glared at Marek. “Why do you . . . think . . . this war started, boy? Huh?” He dropped his head for a brief moment, doing his best to gain momentum for what was coming next. With a broken jaw, it was hard for him to speak so when he did, he did so slowly, mumbling most of his words.

---