Page 73 of After the Chase

Behind me, I hear Ivan enter, and he stands on the other side of the bed, his hand resting on Tyler's shoulder, then he leans down and kisses Tyler’s forehead.

"Noah and I are leaving," Ivan says quietly. "We'll be back by morning."

"Be careful."

"We will." He looks at me, and I see the monster, fully emerged now. "Whoever did this won't survive the night."

Then he's gone too. I sit alone with my unconscious brother, listening to the machines that are keeping him alive, and I realize something. This is what it means to be part of this world. While the anticipation and excitement exist it is overrun by a much larger force, the consequences and inevitable blood spilled.

And I chose it anyway.

I chose Noah. I chose this life, just like Tyler chose his with Ivan. And I’m pretty sure even now he wouldn’t choose to be anywhere else.

I rest my forehead against our joined hands and finally, finally let myself feel the full weight of what we've become.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

NOAH

I’m standing in the “holding pen”, which is the name of the torture basement at the Kozlov brothers’ mansion. Ivan managed to track down the motherfucker who hit Tyler through some old contacts, one of which works with The Serpents. He happens to hate the guy we are about to destroy, so was very willing to spill the tea on the fucker we are about to hurt. The gossip is so crazy, that this guy won’t know how lucky he is that it’s us that found out before his own Prez of his plans, because what we will do to him is nothing compared to what I know The Serpents would have done if they had got to him before us. But I’m gonna play with him first before I drop that little piece of information.

The dickface is restrained to a metal chair bolted to the floor. His wrists are zip-tied to the armrests, ankles secured to the chair legs. He's conscious but groggy, I watched as Ivan used the ketamine during the extraction. Enough to disorient, but not enough to dull pain receptors. His name is Ollie Broman, approximately thirty-two years old and around five-foot nine, one hundred and eight pounds with the Serpents tattoo on his left forearm. His breathing is elevated, but he is working hard to control it to not give away fear. His pupils are dilated andhis eyes keep searching around the room, probably looking for possible weaknesses and escape routes. There are none.

I stand ten feet away, observing, as I know Ivan will want to be part of the main show since it is his man laying in hospital. It doesn’t stop me from being selfish though, I want a piece of action for the distress he has caused my man too. I don’t feel any guilt about why this has happened, as it’s part of the world. Doesn’t matter if you are involved in the work or not, friends and family are at high risk too.

Ivan circles the chair slowly, his movements more theatrical than what I’ve seen him do before. But he's enjoying this, the power dynamic and the knowledge of what's coming. This is personal so it feels different. This guy hurt someone he cares for and the reaction will always be more sadistic.

"Ollie Broman," Ivan says. "Do you know why you're here?"

Ollie spits blood onto the concrete. "Fuck you."

"Wrong answer." Ivan glances at me. "Noah, would you like to explain?"

I step forward into the light and Ollie’s eyes track my movement, and I see the moment recognition hits not of who I am, but of what I am. Chase has mentioned it to me many times that this reaction is due to the feeling of wrongness I portray. A shell without a soul that a normal, emotional, functioning human would pick up on as it’s abnormal. I know he has seen bad people before, but this will be different.

"Someone close to you confirmed you struck a man named Tyler Blackford before you fled the scene. We heard you were ordered to take him out in retaliation of the murder of that piece of shit from your club, who was a fucking thief, by the way."

Ollie’s jaw tightens. "Don't know what you're talking about."

"Yes, you do." I move closer, studying his face. "Tyler also happens to be Chase's brother. Chase is my man, which means you hurt something that belongs to me."

"I don't know any fucking guy called Chase."

I drive my fist into his stomach and the air leaves his lungs in a rush. He gasps, choking, his body convulsing against the restraints.

"Don't lie, it wastes time," I say calmly.

Ivan laughs in a low, demonic sound. I step back, giving Ollie time to recover his breath. He's wheezing, tears streaming down his face from the impact. Excellent. Pain focuses the mind.

"The whole thing was payback for the man killed at the Blackrose Saints clubhouse. You were told to send a message to the Kozlovs by targeting someone connected to us, an easy target."

Ollie glares at me through watering eyes. "You're gonna kill me anyway, why should I tell you shit?"

"Because," Ivan says, moving to a metal table against the wall, "how you die depends on what you tell us. And when."

He selects a knife from the array of tools laid out from his very own torture collection. Ivan is known to invent his own devices, but he doesn’t appear to be in the test mood today. He holds up a knife to the light, examining the blade.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Ivan murmurs. "German steel. Holds an edge perfectly."