Marx strikes quicker than a man with his injury should, cupping Lovely’s face in his hands and dragging her in for a kiss. It must work because she softens against him even further when he wraps his arms around her.
Chewy lets out a huff then stomps to stand in front of the Prez and his Ol Lady, blocking our view of their makeout session. “Right, so, can I get back to work now or what?”
Joy
“Where the fuck did he come from?” Marx asks as he wanders into the processing shed behind us.
He’s slower than usual, leaning on Lovely, but he’s still the man in charge. Even Gallows stepped down from trying to keep us in line after they did that man hug thing where they poundeach other on the back. I’m not sure how Marx stayed standing given that Gallows is huge like Switch.
“Marx, meet The Foreign Ginger. We were just getting to the good part. As you can see-” Chewy waves at the Foreign Ginger’s privates, “- that I have already disintegrated his junk. I was about to move on to his colon before you interrupted me.”
“Well, shit, don’t let my presence stop you,” Marx says, waving a hand at the hanging ginger who starts thrashing again.
“Say bye bye to your colon…” Chewy mutters as she starts busying herself behind her captive.
“No! No! Please, I’ll talk, fuck!”
“Did you get any up there?” Pops mumbles with a raised brow.
“No,” Chewy grumbles, “and it would be rude of me to do it now that he’s gonna talk.” She rounds on the man. “Talk. Who are you working for, what was your business here and anything else you can think of. Aaaand go!”
He sniffs up a line of snot that was escaping his right nostril before swallowing hard. “I contract to an ex-military crew. We get contracts through Thompson, McDonald and Associates.”
“Associates?” Wire murmurs under his breath before he and Remy start tapping away at their laptops. I didn’t even notice them bring them in, but I guess it’s part of their role in the MC.
I wonder what my role would be? I’m not brave or clever, I’m just me. Not that it’s a bad thing. I know I have strengths and things I am good at, I just haven't quite figured them all out yet.
“Yeah, some Russian guy. But he’s pissed because they’ve fallen through on some deals. That’s why I’m here. I was scouting out that lady’s house and I saw when you took the others. I followed and waited and then followed you here. Please don’t ruin my ass!”
Chewy ignores him instead narrowing her eyes at him. “So, you found us. What was the plan?”
“I’m meant to call it in, but I figured if I was quick enough I could snatch up the kids and get outta here. There’s a bonus if I do that. Keeps the Russian happy and all that.”
Kids? I’m not the only one questioning things as we all share the same confused look.
“Kids?” Pops echoes, head tilted.
“Yeah. There's the red head one, and there are two more that were meant to be delivered to the Russian but something went bad with that deal.”
“That bastard!” Loyal growls, her fists shaking with rage, the same as mine. “No one is getting my daughters.No one!” She spits at the Foreign Ginger before letting out a frustrated scream.
“You gonna tell them there are two more?” A rough voice barks from behind us, making me jump out of my skin.
“Baby! You’re back!” Chewy beams, waving goofily at her Ol Man, a grin on her face.
Rhodie stalks across the floor, his long legs eating the distance between him and his Ol Lady, although he does stop long enough to scowl at his brother who rolls his eyes.
I avert my eyes when he and Chewy start making out, instead concentrating on Rhodie’s words. “Wait, you said there were two more?” I ask, brows furrowed in concentration. There can’t be two more. Travis only sold Kit, Addy and Bree.
“You gonna tell her, or am I?” Rhodie raises a brow at the man who whimpers.
It could be Rhodie’s powerful arched brow, or the DRMC men who filed in behind him. Not my man, unfortunately. Calling him my man both feels right and makes me giddy. My insides fizz at the thought that I could make Switch mine, but before I can talk myself out of it, the truth of it settles in my gut. Switch,Reid, deserves a woman who can smooth his rough edges, who can bring quiet to the chaos in his life, who can care for him asmuch as he cares for others. That is my job. That is what Reid deserves. And I deserve Reid.
“Come on, dude. My Ol Man already spilled the beans. Tell me who you are here for,” Chewy says, poking her prisoner, making him sway as he hangs from meat hooks.
“We were sent here for Hitchens’ three kids, and two others. All I know about them is one is around three years old with brown hair, the other is two with black hair. I’m sorry!”
Chewy stiffens, the expression on her face neutral as she stares at the man begging for his life. Quick as a flash she has her syringe in hand and she’s behind him. HIs screams bounce off the walls as Chewy injects caustic soda into his anus. Tears stream down his face, mixing with the snot that bubbles from his nose.
