Page 88 of Property of Spike

I glance back through the window. Riley is stripped down, and her arms chained above her head like a piece of meat on display. Blood streaks down her back, her bruised body limp. They weren’t here long before I arrived, so they must have beaten Riley before they took her. Why the hell was she at the police station, to begin with? Where’s Asher? Where the fuck is Spike?

It took everything in me to wait for the right moment to strike.

For twenty fucking minutes, I had to stand there, listening to that sick bastard torture her. If I’d gone in too soon, the two idiots, both armed with AK-47s, would’ve dropped me before I reached the door.

So, I waited.

And, just like I suspected, they let their guard down. One clean shot to idiot number one’s head, and he was done. I needed answers, so idiot number two got a bullet to the knee before I knocked him out cold.

Even with my silencer, the shots were loud. But Chuck didn’t hear a damn thing.

Shitty fucking cop.

Lucky for me.

Unlucky for him.

I slip inside the warehouse, the thick stench of rust and old blood filling my nostrils. How often does our dear Commissioner bring people here to torture, I wonder?

The place is dimly lit by the few overhead lights that are struggling to do their job. Chuck stands with his back to me, admiring his own handiwork like the sick fuck he is.

Riley hangs limply from the chains, her body covered in sweat and blood. My hands clench into fists, but I force myself to stay calm. I need to do this right.

Silent as death, I step forward.

Chuck doesn’t even hear me coming.

By the time he senses something is wrong, it’s too late. My arm snakes around his throat, cutting off his air in an instant. He thrashes, trying to pry me off, but I’m stronger. He stumbles, his legs kicking against the floor as he gasps for breath.

I lean in, my voice a whisper in his ear.

“I’m gonna make this real easy for you, Commissioner,” I murmur. “Consider this my gift to Spike. A nice little package, tied up with a bow.”

His body jerks in protest, but his strength is already failing. I tighten my grip just a little longer until his body goes limp. I don’t kill him. I know Spike will want that pleasure himself. But he’s damn sure not waking up anytime soon.

I lower him to the ground and pull out my phone, typing out a quick message to Spike.

Me:Meat packing plant outside Palm Springs. Two men on the side of the building. One dead, the other out. But don’t worry, I’ll handle them.

Spike: Max? What the fuck? We’re already on our way. Thirty minutes out. Is Riley alive?

Me:I’m sorry about everything, brother. I hope one day you’ll understand why I betrayed you and the club. Just know that I never would have brought danger to your door. Also, keep an eye on that cousin of yours. He’s not who you think he is. Riley is badly hurt, but she’s safe and waiting for you.

I slide my phone away and turn my attention to Riley.

She stirs as I carefully release the chains, her arms dropping like dead weight. I catch her before she crumples to the floor, making sure to avoid the mess carved into her back.

“Easy, sweetheart,” I say, crouching as she shivers against me. “I’m gonna lay you on your stomach and cover you with my cut.”

Her lips part, but no words come out. Just a soft, pained whimper. It nearly guts me.

“I’m not going far,” I promise, brushing damp strands of hair from her face. “Spike’s on his way. I’ll be close until he gets here. You’re not alone, Riley. If you need me before he gets here, simply call out, and I’ll come.”

She nods weakly, her body sagging against me. I shift her into a more comfortable position on the floor, then step back.

Now, all that’s left to do is get rid of the two idiots. But I’m gonna need idiot two’s help with a few things first. I’m gonna take that fucking Cartel down even if I have to force my way into their ranks. I just need some inside intel from our local police department. Lucky me that I have a not-yet-willing participant to help me.

After tossing the two idiots into the back of my truck, making sure to tie idiot two up, I move into the shadows as I watch the entrance. It doesn’t take long before I hear the low rumble of motorcycles and the distant roar of an approaching car.

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