Page 17 of Torching Vixen
“Yeah. So last night, after we watched the videos, I did do what the girls asked and delete them, but I also took some screenshots of the traitor and ran them through a program I designed to help us identify people. They aren’t lying. We have a rat.” A picture of Ox pops up on the television behind Prez.
We are completely silent. Ox has always been one of us. Hell, he grew up in the club. His dad was one of our Enforcers. We fuckingservedtogether. There is no way that this could be true.
“Not possible.” I shake my head, “Razor, there is no way that can be true. Your program has to have made an error.”
“That’s what I thought. So, I looked at the code, and there are no errors,” he replies, shaking his head.
“Blue noticed last night when Ox walked up and started talking to the girls. They both went pale and stiff as boards,” Prez says, looking aged and tired.
“Let’s put it to a vote then,” I reply, feeling like a rock has taken up space in my throat.
The slow and sad yeses echo throughout the room. So, we take the time to come up with a plan to get Ox to the basement. We must be careful because we have no idea what Ox is up to or on. It takes us about an hour to come up with the plan, and we decide to deal with that threat before we go after the Snakes.
After that, Prez ends church, and I decide I need to ride. Storming by everyone in the common room, I know that if I open my mouth, I’m going to torch whoever it is. I need to fuck some shit up, no I need to fuck Fire up and burn that little piss ant of a club to the ground with all those sick fucks in it. I’m brought back to the here and now when my brothers start their bikes. I look over at Duck and give him a nod. We tear out of the club needing to just ride. We should be worried about what’s waiting on the other side, but with the fire burning through me right now it’s the last thing on my mind.
* * *
Icome to, and it’s dark. Why the fuck do I feel like I’ve been run the fuck over? I go to wipe the wetness off my face, but I can’t. Chains rattle instead. What thefuck?
I’m chained to the fucking wall with my hands above my head. I hear another groan and squint through the darkness.
“Fucking bullshit,” I hear Wesson say.
“Damn it, motherfucker,” Duck growls out. I start hearing more chains rattle and realize that there may be more than just us three.
“Roll call,” I croak out. Fuck, my head hurts.
“RC, not serious,” Duck replies.
“E1, dislocated right shoulder,” Smith advises.
“E2, not serious,” Wesson growls out.
We set this roll call system up from when we served and could possibly be prisoners of war. We don’t say our names just our roles, so the enemy doesn’t know who is more important. The only problem is that we all have our cuts this time, so whoever did this knows who we are. We just have to figure out where the fuck we are.
“VP? You good?” Duck asks from my right.
“All good, a little headache but all good,” I reply, closing my eyes and trying to focus on the sounds and smells around me.
“Can anyone tell us what happened or what the fuck they remember?” Smith asks with a groan.
“All I remember is pulling out of the gate and everything going fucking dark. What fucking happened?” I ask, hoping one of the brothers can tell me.
The door above us opens, and horribly bright lights flash on, making me squint. But what I see makes me furious. We are in some basement or bunker with one row of cells. From what I can tell, there are ten in all. They were smart enough to separate my brothers and me, but in the cells between us are women who look scared or so high they have no idea what is going on. Who the fuck could have done this, and where the fuck are we? There is no way this is going on in my town without my club knowing about it. If anyone in our town’s criminal element was aware this was happening, they’d have informed us. Yes, there’s honor among thieves, but most still stop at that ledge of involving women and children.
In the cell between Duck and I, a tiny redhead whispers. “Just be very quiet and do what they ask, and they won't beat on you too bad.”
“How long have you been here?” I ask, probably more harshly than I mean to but fuck me, what have we gotten into? Is this related to Ox and whatever the fuck he’s into? The slip of a woman squeaks before recoiling away from me.
“Now, now that’s no way to talk to my toys now, is it?” an unfamiliar voice asks from the stairway. I look up toward the sound and immediately recognize the two motherfuckers flanking the well-dressed asshole. They are going to die, slowly, painfully, with a lot of blood and screams.
“Well, well, well, if it isn’t Mister High and Fucking Mighty,” Ice drawls out like he doesn't have a care in the world.
“Oh, yay, I see Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dumb dragged you into this party. Mind telling me who you are and why in the ever-loving fuck we are here?” I completely ignore Ice and Fire. They’re dead men walking anyhow, so giving them attention is useless.
“Fire has offered safe travel for my shipments if I help him with one little problem, and who would believe that solving his one little problem would solve one of my biggest problems!” says the man in the fancy suit.
“And what problem is that?” I ask, still trying to figure out what in the fuck is going on and who in the fuck this guy is.
