Page 83 of Q: Satan's Fury MC

“Is it done?”

“Yeah, it’s done,” Ink answered. “We took him out to Handler’s Point, just like you told us.”

“Anyone see you?”

“Nah, there wasn’t a soul in sight. We made sure of that before we left the dock.”

“Good deal.” I gave him a pat on the shoulder. “Appreciate it, brother. Knew I could count on you.”

I should’ve felt relieved, but as I headed back out to my truck, I felt anything but.

The past few days had been hell.

James had been locked in Stitch’s holding room, and I’d spent days itching to get my hands on him. But I couldn’t go near him—not until Wyatt and Big had a chance to investigate him. Before I stepped foot in that room, we needed to know everything there was to know about him from where he worked to who he was associated with, and everything in between.

We also needed to know who he might’ve told that he was coming to Port Angeles to find Jules. Under normal circumstances, it would’ve only taken a day or so for the guys to find that kind of information, but the whole bullshit with Rooster and I being kidnapped and beaten put a strain on them. They spent hours on end trying to figure out who was behind it, but no matter which angle they took, they kept coming up empty-handed.

The warehouse where we were taken had been foreclosed on and belonged to one of the local banks. The van they’d used to take us had been ditched in a back alley, but it had been stripped and torched. They’d followed all the leads they had, but in the end, we were back at square one. Having no idea where to turn next, Big and Wyatt directed their focus on James.

It didn’t take them long to discover that there wasn’t much to the infamous James Bruton. He was a twenty-nine-year-old accountant with no friends or family to speak of—just a father in an old folk’s home that he hadn’t seen in over a year. He spent most of his nights down at a local bar where he occasionally spent time with a local prostitute named Jazeel.

We sent a prospect to hook up with her and question her about her regular client, and she didn’t have many nice things to say about him. In fact, she had nothing good to say about him. Apparently, he had a thing for roughing her up, but considering her circumstances, there wasn’t much she could do about it. She simply took his money and prayed he wouldn’t be back. But that was never the case—at least, not until now.

After a quick run of his credit cards, Wyatt discovered that he’d been staying at a dive motel on the east end of town. It wasn’t exactly the best area, but that worked in our favor. No one around those parts would give two shits about some stranger in town, so I was in the clear. I could finally have my moment with him.

Smokey and Clutch came along to make sure things didn’t get out of hand, but I wasn’t sure how much help they’d be. I got the feeling that Smokey wanted to end him just as much as I did. We were about to go into the room when Wyatt called out to me. “Hey, Q. Hold up.”

I turned, and when I saw him and Stitch coming toward me, I quickly asked, “Something wrong?”

“We got something you might wanna see.”

Wyatt had already shown me everything he and Big had found on James, so I was a little confused when he handed me another file. As I started to open it, I asked, “What is it?”

“It’s Jules’ medical records.” I looked up at him, and the second I saw the anguish in his eyes, I knew it was going to be bad. “That asshole has done a real number on her. She’s lucky to be alive.”

I started flipping through the different pages, and Jules had suffered everything from broken bones to severe lacerations. Hell, he’d even ruptured her fucking spleen. “Son of a bitch.”

“Yeah, he’s a real douchebag for sure.”

Seeing what he’d done to her fueled my rage, and I wanted to kill him even more. “She doesn’t want me to end him.”

“Seriously?” Stitch asked, sounding as surprised as I was.

“Yeah, and I don’t get it.” I ran my hand down my face and grumbled several curses under my breath. “How can she not want him dead after all this?”

“’Cause she’s one of the good ones.” Clutch placed his hand on my shoulder as she added, “She thinks there’s still hope for this asshole. It’s your job to go in there and decide if she’s right.”

“Something tells me that’s going to be easier said than done.”

“No doubt.”

Stitch and Wyatt waited in the hall while I went inside with Smokey and Clutch. As soon as we walked in, James stood, and the chain around his foot scraped across the concrete floor as he backed into the corner. He’d only been in there for a few days, but the time had not treated him kindly. His clothes were not only bloody but dirty. Both his eyes were black, and he had a gnarly, busted lip that didn’t appear to be healing well.

His eyes grew wide as he muttered, “What do you want from me? Why won’t you just let me go?”

“Because you’re a piece of shit who thought you could come here and put your hands on my girl.”

“Your girl? I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about. I haven’t touched your girl.” His eyes narrowed as he thought for a moment, and then, it hit him. “You’re the one who’s fucking Jules?You gotta be fucking kidding me.”

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