Page 8 of Only The Strong

I turn to look at Finn as he leans against the table next to me. “Did you check to see if he had a tongue?” I hide my smirk by rubbing my hand over my jaw. “Maybe he can’t physically speak.”

The rat in the chair barks a laugh at my joke and Finn picks up the first thing his hand lands on, on the table and throws it at the guy, hitting him in the face and chest. It happened to be the empty five-gallon bucket used for waterboarding purposes, and there was a loud smack and more groaning. Finn glares at me. “I’m not a fucking amateur, Cale. He has a fucking tongue.”

“Prove it.” I incline my head toward the bloody groaning man in the chair.

Finn shrugs and picks up a scalpel and pliers from the tool cart. He walks over to the man and bends over in front of him. “Care to share who sent you to spy on the Outlaws?” He places his hands on the armrests, making himself eye level with his prisoner.

The chained up man spits in answer to Finn, his bloody saliva landing on the toe of Finn’s boot. Finn stabs him in the stomach with the scalpel, dragging it down a few inches before pulling it out again. The rat screams, doubling over again, his head landing on Finn’s shoulder, blood pouring out onto Finn’s hand. He stands up, making the man straighten with the movement. “Well, a corpse has no use for a tongue or eyes. Which should I take first then?” The man’s eyes widen with fear, the seriousness of this situation finally setting in. “Give me some answers and you can keep them,” Finn says, his head cocked to the side.

“I don't know! I don't know,” The man screams.

“Mmm. Not good enough.” Finn shakes his head.

“The Coalition. I work for The Brothers Coalition, but I don't know who hired me. Please.” He begs.

Finn turns to look at me, but I shake my head, not knowing what he’s talking about. “Okay. Thank you.” Finn says, turning back to our prisoner. He lets out a big sigh, relaxing a bit. In a flash Finn stabs the man in the eye and grabs ahold of his tongue with the pliers during one of his wails and pulls it out of his mouth, slicing it off with the scalpel. Finn drops the bloody tongue on the floor and walks around to stand behind the guy, grabbing his hair in his fist and yanking his head back, gliding the scalpel across his throat in one fluid movement. Blood spurts out in front of him, covering the floor at his feet, the man coughing and choking, making more blood release with his jerking movements. Finn and I lock eyes and he smirks, still standing behind the man bleeding out. “I didn’t specify what he got to keep.” I bark a laugh while he drops the man’s head, letting it hang over in front of him, and leans down to pick up his tongue. He walks over to me smiling, and I grab a bloody rag off of the cart already anticipating his next movement; he drops the tongue into the rag in my hand smiling like a fucking maniac. “Told ya he had a tongue.” I continue laughing and drop the tongue and rag onto the workbench I'm leaning against. Finn strides over to the utility skin against the wall and starts to clean his hands and arms of the blood. “What the fuck is The Brothers Coalition?” He asks without looking at me.

I stare at the man hanging limp in the chair. “I have no fucking clue.”

“Shit.” Finn hisses, turning around and wiping his hands with a paper towel. “Someone big is watching us. Someone who can train minions to withstand torture.”

Before I can add anything else to this brewing shitstorm my phone dings with a text.

Saint: Chapel ASAP. Shits gone down.

Well fuck, I grab Finn’s cut from the table next to the tool cart and toss it to him, he’s reading the message as well. I flick through my notifications, noticing one saying a Reese Thomas followed me on Instagram. Is that Reese from last weekend? I wouldn’t mind seeing her again if it were. Finn pats my shoulder as he walks over, breaking my train of thought from the redhead I should have made more of an effort to get to stay over. We both look over to the dead guy and shrug. Putting in a call to the prospects for a clean up as we head up the stairs and into the small cabin that the club uses to hide out at. Emergency church is only called when things have really hit the fan so we break a few speed limits to get to the clubhouse fast.

* * *

“DidSaint tell you what's going on?” Finn asks when we take our seats at the long rectangular table in the chapel. Everyone except our VP and President is here. There are six of us, everyone sitting around the table smoking, talking to the person next to them, or staring down at their phones. I nod to all of my brothers in a greeting.

“Nah, only that shit went down and to get our asses here.” I switch my phone to silent while I answer him. Don’t want my phone going off and interrupting church, instead of God smiting me, fucking Saint would do it instead; I don’t know who’s more fucking powerful.

Saint and Ronan walk in talking to each other in hushed tones, Saint rakes his hands through his long blonde hair when he takes a seat next to our President, Ronan. Fuck. Saint, our VP, looks stressed, this meeting should be fucking good.

“Now that we're all here, I'll let Saint go ahead and tell you all why we called you in tonight.” Prez rubs his temple as he talks, looking to his left at Saint.

“A friend of a friend needs some protection. The law school student that helped me out a few weeks ago has a friend that recently found herself a stalker. Dude seems fucking weird and a little dangerous. We’re gonna put prospects on it to watch her apartment, but of course, we have to vote on it. The girl’s a sweet one and she and our friend are pretty spooked over this. Allie called in a favor with us and I want to honor it.”

“Can we get the full story before we vote?” Tobias booms from the end of the table. “Not trying to undermine your friends, I just want the full story out there before we put our guys on it.” Tobias is never one to rush anything, being the oldest here he's always the most level headed of all of us young guys. Ha “young guys”, we’re all in our mid to late twenties but Tobi says he feels fucking ancient compared to us at thirty-five. It’s not about age, he says he’s just in a different place in his life than the rest of us. He’s got kids, a wife, and an ex-wife to care for and stress over. He’s been in this life the longest and has seen a few things in his time on a bike. Ronan’s a few years younger than Tobi both in age and in years in the club, despite Tobi being here longer we all still chose Ronan when our last Prez retired out. Nate is Ro’s age, and Saint, Finn, and I are all twenty-five. Our prospects are a mix, Mason is a few years younger, Wyatt is closer to Tobi, and Leo and Jack can barely drink legally.

“Of course.” Saint rubs his sharp scruffy jaw. “Reese Thomas was at Mickey’s on Saturday night and some guy was...” Saint continues recapping the entire story, but my heart dropped into my fucking stomach at the mention of Reese, I know I stopped fucking breathing because by the time he’s done talking I gulp in a breath, and Finn side eyes me; seeing the worry all over my face. He leans over and whispers, “That was your girl wasn't it?” I can’t speak over the lump in my throat so I just nod.

“There’s a police report,” Saint continues, “but since he broke into an apartment building and no one saw a thing, they’re pretty freaked. I’m sure it’s nothing, just a little college fuck with a crush that lives at the complex, but they want a tail just in case.” Saint leans back in his chair, looking at each of us sitting around the table. “Ready to vote?”

I lean forward in my chair and raise my hand to catch Saint’s attention. “Saint, I have something to add before we take a vote.” He motions for me to continue. “I know Reese, I met her Saturday and saw that guy grabbing on her. I want to be a part of her tail.” I look Saint in the eyes so he knows although this sounds like a request, it's not.

“Were you the one who beat his ass and put him in the hospital?” He asks.

I shake my head. “No,” I answer honestly. “Reese and I hung out that night and after I took her home, I went home and passed out.”

Saint nods slowly. “That’s what I thought, but I had to ask.” I nod along with him, not upset for him asking. It’s not like it would be that out of character for one of us to do something like that.

“You can manage the prospects and keep us updated.” Prez is leaned back in his chair with his hands clasped together in front of him. I nod, leaning back in mine again, trying to suppress my nerves but it’s fucking hard. Someone broke into her damn apartment and is leaving creepy ass notes.

We go around the table all voting yes to helping Reese; we always honor friends if we’re able to, and none of us like creepy stalker fuckers. Ronan raises the gavel, ready to smack down on the table and end the meeting when Finn clears his throat.

“Actually, Prez, we got one more thing.” This brings my head back into the game, focusing on Ronan’s face instead of the knots in my damn stomach. Finn spins his lighter between his fingers, his nervous tick. We all have great respect for our president, of course, and Ronan has never run this club like a dictator; we really do feel like brothers and like we’re more equal than the ranking hierarchy implies. Regardless of how comfortable we are within our friendships, this topic is incredibly sensitive and I wouldn't want to have to be the one to present it to the club.

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