Page 6 of Her Angel: Elias

I shook my head at my brother, silently warning him to stay quiet.

Chance shifted, jerking on his own restraints attached to the other hook, but before he could start running his mouth, Heavy punched him in the face. My cousin went limp, the only thing keeping him upright, the hook. His dead weight caused the cord attached to it to loosen, and another two men had to rush to secure it.

Bronco stepped in front of me, his face twisted in frustration. No doubt, he’d thought he’d have all the information he needed to overtake Creswell Springs by now.

“Let’s start with something easy.” He picked up a torch and a branding rod, something similar to what ranchers used to mark their herd. Only this one had the insignia of the Obsidian Souls at the end.

Like everyone else, I was in only a pair of boxer briefs. All my ink was exposed, and Bronco’s beady eyes kept going to the tattoo over my heart—the Bieberstein’s crocus that I’d put there for Sammy.

“You Reids have a stake in the most lucrative businesses in Creswell Springs.”

I turned my head left and right, trying to ease some of the strain on my muscles. He wasn’t exactly wrong, but he wasn’t right. Other than Barker & Reid, which was the most successful construction company in three states, my brother and I had very little control over the businesses in our small town. But there was one Reid who did.

Max.

His mother was the current mayor, with his sister ready to step in and lead once Raven got tired of running the town, and his family operated the only garage in the county. Then there was Hannigans’, the bar that was family-owned on his mother’s side. He had shares in it, although he didn’t have a say in day-to-day operations. That would be Kingston and Jack. And Kingston also had Aggie’s, the best diner in all of Northern California. Not to mention Sanctuary, the women’s shelter that Jack and his mother ran.

It wasn’t the Reids who held all the power back home; it was the Hannigans. But Bronco didn’t understand that, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to get that intel from me.

“How much protection does Vitucci give each business?” Bronco asked.

That surprised a laugh from me. “You think Vitucci gives us protection?”

“Obviously, you pay for it,” Bronco clarified. “How much do they take to keep the town so quiet?”

“Nothing,” I answered honestly. Creswell Springs wasn’t so “quiet,” as he put it, because of Cosa Nostra affiliations. It was a safe town because my MC protected what was ours.

However, some of that quietness Bronco was so interested in could be linked back to the sheriff, Ben Davis, who was also Max’s brother-in-law. Finn, Ben and Lexa’s son, was currently a deputy, but one day he’d take over for his father. That was just how it would be, because Finn was a member of a legacy family. Finn’s last name might be Davis, but his mom was a Reid. His grandmother was a Hannigan. He was basically royalty in Trinity County.

Not liking my answer, Bronco lit the torch and started heating the brand. The scent of metal heating mixed with the faint residual odors of scorched hair and charred skin from the last time the brand had been used.

“Vitucci doesn’t skim off the top or include his protection in your contract with him?” Bronco asked next, his gaze on the brand as it began to glow red.

“Nope.” Again, I answered honestly, because his line of questioning was ridiculous.

“Who is your direct contact within the Vitucci organization?”

“Are you asking for yourself or for a third party?” I asked, curious. It was sounding more and more like Bronco was interrogating me about Vitucci, not simply trying to get intel on how our own system ran. He was focused on the Vitucci family more than he was on our operation.

“Just need to understand how Ryan Vitucci handles things,” Bronco said with a shrug, continuing to heat the brand. “What kind of percentage will he charge us when we take over?”

“You think it’s that easy? Take us out, move in to our town, take over our businesses, and Ryan Vitucci will just accept the shift?” I snorted. “I don’t know who you’ve worked for in the past, Bronco, but that’s not how Vitucci has ever handled anything.”

“Once he realizes it’s us or no one, he’ll come around,” Bronco said with so much confidence I laughed again.

“Ryan Vitucci isn’t even your biggest problem, man,” I warned. “Ryan doesn’t give a single fuck about what goes on in Creswell Springs. It’s not his territory. It’s ours.”

“Bullshit,” Bronco spat, dropping the torch onto a table and stepping closer with the brand handle held in both hands. “Everyone knows Vitucci rules everything from New York to that little shit town you call home.”

Eyeing the red-hot metal, I cocked a brow at the idiot standing before me. “Everyone who doesn’t matter knows that bullshit, because that’s what we allow them to think. Anyone who is privy to the truth is aware of who the most powerful people are in our community. And trust me, Ryan Vitucci is at the very bottom of any list when it comes to Creswell Springs or Angel’s Halo MC.”

Before I could blink, Bronco had the brand pressed to my chest. At first, it felt ice-cold, but that reaction immediately shifted to blinding agony. The sound of sizzling flesh barely registered as my ears began to ring. The scent of my flesh burning turned my stomach, but I wasn’t sure if it was the smell or the pain that triggered the nausea.

Yet, the pain was also invigorating, a rush of adrenaline filling my veins along with a shot of rage hotter than the brand itself. He’d marked the tattoo of my baby girl’s favorite flower.

With a roar, I headbutted Bronco, causing him to stumble back. The brand dropped to the floor with a clang. Blood bloomed from Bronco’s nose, a dazed look filling his eyes as he tried to steady himself, while the men holding the cable attached to my hook jerked it harder, lifting me higher off the floor.

From the cage, Reid made a feral noise, and Kingston was demanding to know what was going on. His swollen eyes made it impossible for him to see what was happening. The noise level caused Jack to groan and lift his head, while Chance began to wake up. Max, however, was still out cold, probably from another dose of Versed they’d given him before dragging me out of the cell.