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“Please don’t start to freak out, Savannah. I’m sure everything will be alright. Nothing is going to happen to him. It’s not possible.” She gives me a small smile.

I want to believe her optimism. The only problem is that we’ve been here for several hours and we haven’t heard anything from anyone.

I stand to admire our work. He hangs before me in nothing. He’s just as bear as my sister was when he ruined her. I cut every piece of fabric from his body before the hooks pierced him. I want him to feel the humiliation, just as I’m sure my sister did. The hooks are embedded into Louie’s armpits, he hands secured about his head, zip tied to the metal bar. Every time he pulls at his hands, the thick plastic cuts into his skin more and more. His blood runs down his arms and joins the blood that’s spilling from the holes in his armpits. His chest puffs as he tries to bring enough air into his body to continue his fight.

“Lower him a little.” I tell my brother who’s working the controls on the hook. I hear the grinding of the worn out gears. I’m hoping they’ll hold under the weight of him. As soon as I see, the tips of Louie’s toes touch the concrete I give my brother the command to stop.

I squat and take in the sight before me. Everything about this man disgusts me. I feel no remorse for what I’ve done to him, for what I’m going to still do. I take the blade from my belt; the cool steel gives me strength. I run it along the hardness of the cement. Back and forth, watching the sparks at where the metal meets the stone.

I stand, clenching my teeth until my jaw aches. I crack my neck, trying to loosen the muscles in my shoulders. Taking a deep breath, I step forward, locking eyes with the man before me.

“First thing’s first.” I tell him as I bring the searing metal up to his skin. “You won’t be needing this anymore.” I stab at his MC patch tattoo. I push the metal of the blade in to his skin. I start at the top of the patch tattoo on his pectoral muscle. I turn the blade once it’s far enough in and pull down, flaying his skin. He groans as tears run town his face. I watch as the thick flesh falls from his body, folding under my blade. Once enough is cut and the patch is completely off his body, I pull the rest of it off. “Here.” I turn and throw the piece of flesh to my brother.

“Fuck you.” he spits.

“Wrap it up, tell Louie Jr. that the shame his father has brought to his club and his family is no more.”

Louie’s body bucks, the muffled screams are almost too much for me to handle. It almost makes me want to get it over with and cut the jugular of this mother fucker, but I know I need to do this. I know he needs to suffer. The white flesh turns red as the blood rushes on the surface. It builds up then trickles down his stomach. I hear the dripping of liquid and peer down to see that this fucker has pissed himself. I laugh at the sight. “Look at this, Cut. Big bad biker man just pissed himself.” I shake my head. “I guess the old fucker can’t hold it like he used to.”

Louie’s hair is now wet with perspiration. The coloring of his face is fading. He tries to pick up his head as it bobs in the air. Running the blade down his chest, I mark one row after another. I’m tempted to carve my sister’s name into his body, but then I stop myself. There’s no way I would ever want her name engraved on his body. He isn’t good enough to carry my sister’s name.

“What do you think?” I ask Cut.

He’s stood back the entire time I put my knife to the skin of the bastard who ruined our family. I watched him out of my peripheral vision when I was raking the blade down Louie’s body. I know he would never admit it, but there were times he winced at my actions.

“I think you’re pretty fucked up.” he nods. “And remind me never to piss you off to the point where you want to draw that blade on me.”

Louie’s body is riddled with cuts and gashes. I’ve taken the blade to him either cutting into his skin or digging pieces of flesh from his bone. There have been a few times when I purposely pushed my blade in too deep and it hit the bone. Each time he would flinch brought a smile to my face.

I pull his head back by the nape of his hair. His eyes roll back and flutter as he tries to focus on me. His face is covered in snot and spit. The duct tape has loosened in the process, but it is long after I started so he hasn’t been able to verbalize any words, just the typical moans and groans from the pain. “Are you almost ready?” I ask him, even though he’s in no shape to respond to me. “Can you feel them?” I ask again. “Can you feel the flames of hell nipping at your heels, motherfucker? Because I know that’s gonna be your next stop, you piece of fucking shit.” I push the blade into his stomach. I pull it out and push it in again. I feel the warm liquid of his blood cover my hand, making the grip a little harder to keep hold. His groans are interrupted by the banging on the metal of the doors.

“Cut!” Lick calls for my brother. Cut flicks the lock and the door flies open. “Tyson grabbed Savannah.”

At once, I ram the blade further into Louie’s flesh and pull it to the side, successfully spilling the intestines of the man who killed the one person I loved most. Now I’m about to kill the son of bitch who just took my world.

I hear muffled voices coming from the front yard. When I figure out there’s several and the volume begins to rise, I know that something is going on, and it’s not good. Chills roll through my body. There’s a sinking feeling and I suddenly feel as if I’m fighting for breath, the weight on my chest grows heavy as the anger in the voices continue to grow. I slowly pad to the door and hear Bubba arguing with someone. His voice is deep but I can tell it’s laced with confusion. “This isn’t how it’s supposed to go.”

“I’m done waiting.” I feel my blood drain from my face. Tyson.

A loud bang rings through my ears. The girls scream as the front door flies open, knocking me into the wall behind it. A searing pain shoots low under my rib cage. Two men step into the house, both armed with a gun in each hand. Bianca straightens her shoulders and takes a step forward. She reaches for both Jenni and Lily, pulling them behind her. A third man steps in and I know its Tyson. “Where is she?” He asks. Bianca’s eyes cut to me. He follows her line of sight and he sees me standing off to the side. “Savannah.”

“No.” I tell him.

“No? Are you really going to smart-off to me now?” He turns his head from side to side, watching me. There’s something different about him. I thought he was off the last time I saw him, but it seems to be worse now. “I’m tired of this game. I’m tired of the cat and mouse. It’s over. You’re coming home. I’m not about to have my child born a bastard. It’s too bad it’s a bitch. I can’t do anything about that. But I can make sure the next Redding isn’t a bastard.” He claps his hands together, like he wants me to hurry up, but I stand my ground. I’m done with him pushing me around. “Very well. Do it.” I hear the clicking of metal and watch as the two men raise their guns to the heads of Lily, Jenni, and Bianca. The three women stand there frozen as the tears stream down their faces.

“Wait.” I tell him. “I’ll go. Just please don’t hurt them.”

“Grab her.” He tells his goons.

Once they put their hands on me, I begin to fight. Pain rips through my side again and I go limp. “Knock her out. Just don’t hurt the baby.” A crushing pain pelts through my skull and I black out.

Cut can’t drive fast enough. So many different scenarios play through my mind. But there is common thread, I wasn’t there. Again. “It’ll be fine.” Cut tells me, but I don’t believe him. Nothing’s going to be okay. There’s no way that it will be. Tyson fucking Redding has more money than sense and he’s mixed up with the Mexican fucking sex trade. One job. I had one fucking job, that was to keep her safe, and I fucking failed. I thought about myself. I left and took care of something that’s been haunting me for years and because of my own selfish desires, the woman I love is gone.

Taken.

We pull up to Cut’s house. Doc is there on the porch with Bubba. Dyke steps out of the house and approaches us as we walk up. He raises his hands.

“I need you to listen to me.” He meets my eyes. I jerk my head. “Bubba hasn’t been good for a while. He’s been hitting the smack pretty hard lately and because everyone in his life knows not to deal with him or let him to get his hands on that shit, he went elsewhere.”