“Step outside, please, Tats and Toxic,” Ash orders. “Thanks for your help.”
I assume they leave because I hear the door open and then shut with a resoundingbang.
“Where is Guerilla?”
“I’m not going to tell you shit,boy.” Thunder grins, blood coating his teeth.
“You will.” Ash steps forward, regarding his uncle like he’s a piece of shit. “If only because I’ll tell you what happened to Cutt.”
His eyes widen. “I fucking knew you had something to do with his disappearance.”
Ash shrugs. “We didn’t kill him; one of our allies did for his sins against them.”
This is news to me, and it looks like news to Pix, but not to Bane, and I now understand why Ash asked Tats and Toxic to step out.
“You son of a bitch!” Thunder screams. “You fucking—”
I punch him in the face again. “Tell me where Guerilla is.”
Ash might think his approach will get Thunder to talk, but I don’t have time for this. I need answers, and I need themrightnow.
“Pix, slice his shirt off,” I say, taking control of the interrogation.
“I want Thunder alive, Army,” Ash warns. “He needs to be brought before the club for his sins, and so we can finally kill the threat of the old guard’s mutiny.”
I stalk over to the shelves where supplies are kept, ignoring the wall of tools we use for torturing our enemies. I grab some barbed wire.
When I turn back to Thunder, and he sees what I’m holding, he starts to squirm like a worm on a hook, trying to kick Pix away while staring in fear at me.
This was one of Zeus’ signature methods of getting enemies to talk—wrapping the wire tight around their torso, then dragging it down. No doubt, Thunder had been present more than once while his brother did this.
“I don’t know where Guerilla is!” he shouts.
“I don’t believe you.”
Pix cuts his shirt off, and it lies in ribbons on the stainless-steel floor. Bane has a hold of Razor, who looks like he’s going to puke, and Ash just watches me, letting me have control, as long as I don’t kill his bastard uncle.
Wrapping the wire around Thunder’s torso, right at his exposed armpits, I cinch it tight, not caring that the barbed wire cuts into my hands as I do. Then I grip between the barbs and pull it down his torso, cutting, raking, and pulling out chunks of his flesh as I do.
His choked screams echo off the stainless-steel walls. “I don’t know where he is!” When I grip the wire, ready to pull it up his body, snot and spit fly. “But he’s supposed to be calling me on the burner cell,” he forces out between haggard breaths. “It’s in my room. Loose floorboard under my bed.”
I hear the door open, and Ash gives Tats and Toxic the order to retrieve the burner cell and bring it here.
I return to my task of working Thunder over, but Ash jerks me back. “I need him alive, Army. He won’t survive long if you do another pass over him.”
Thunder’s torso currently looks like shredded meat, with some deep wounds, and blood steadily dripping onto the floor.
I step back, obeying Ash, because I know I will kill Thunder if I continue.
I pace, feeling caged while Ash talks to his piece of shit uncle. Pix watches me, knowing I’m on the edge of losing control, and Bane stands over Razor, who sits on the floor, back propped up against the wall with his head hanging low.
When the door to the Cell opens, it’s Digits, who runs in holding Thunder's burner cell and his laptop. “There are multiple missed calls. I’ve got a tracer running that will pinpoint the origin, even if Guerilla tries to bounce the signal. But I need the call to be connected for at least thirty seconds.”
He hands me the phone, and I see that one number has tried calling the burner cell at least a dozen times. I nod at Ash, and he ties a gag over Thunder’s mouth, preventing him from shouting a warning to Guerilla.
I put the call on speakerphone, and the ringing echoes around the space while I pace.
I feel every weapon on my body: the guns in my holsters, the one shoved in the back of my jeans; the knives in my boots. Murderous rage and toxic worry blend inside me, creating a perfect storm.
