Rough & Rugged (Notorious Devils Book 3) (21 page)

“No. They’re wearing masks, and I can’t tell by the voices. As far as I knew, all the
Bastards
were pretty much dead. I couldn’t even guess at where these guys even came from,” I murmur, pulling up my phone and starting the video before handing it to Fury.

I stand behind him, unable to watch the video in its entirety again. I know when his woman’s name is mentioned because his body goes rigid and he lets out a low, deep growl. Then he hands my phone back to me and takes a deep breath.

“They didn’t tell us how to get her back, except to sever the contract with the Ruskies. How would they know if we succeeded unless they have a mole planted?” Fury says, as if he’s thinking aloud.

“What if we just pretended and had Kirill tell his men that the contract has been severed?” Drifter suggests.

“The mole could be fucking anywhere. Could be here, Canadian club, the original charter, or in with the Russians.
Fuck
, I don’t know what to do, and we only have hours left. This was sent last night and we’re already getting into late evening,” Fury mutters

“They’ll call back, then you find out where your girl is and how exactly they want proof of the canceled contracts,” Vault suggests.

“I don’t want anything to happen to her. She’s—she ain’t a whore. She’s Hattie, and she’s only nineteen,” I ramble.

I’m unable to think of anything but Hattie, finding her and getting her back. I’m never leaving her side again. This aching in my chest can’t be ignored. I don’t care what I have to give up or change about myself, I’ll do whatever she wants. I just want her back and safe.

“We’ll get her back,” Fury mutters. I look up to see that everybody has left. It’s only the two of us in the room.

“I spent the night fucking Harmony and Tasha and this was sitting on my phone the entire time. What was happening to her while I was getting my dick wet, Fury?” I ask looking at him, pleading with him to assure me that nothing was happening to her, that she’s fucking perfectly fine.

“I don’t know, Johnny. But whatever it is, when we get her back, you need to help her with it. You want her, then you need to step the fuck up. It ain’t a game anymore. We don’t know what these guys are capable of, because we don’t know
who
they are,” he says.

“If they did something to her, if they hurt her, I won’t be able to help her, Fury. I don’t know how to feel sympathetic or sad. I only know anger,” I explain.

“You think I feel sympathy for anybody but Kentlee and my babies? You think I feel anything for anybody other than them? You’re my brothers and I love you, but if it comes down to it, my wife and my children will always come first. If Hattie is yours, if she’s the one you’re meant to have, you’ll be able to be what she needs you to be when she needs it.”

I watch as he stands, then his eyes cut back to me and he speaks once more.

“I’ll be in my office making plans for lockdown, come and get me when you get a new message from those fuckheads,” he grunts right before he walks away.

I sit down and stare at my phone, feeling fucking helpless and worthless. I try to keep from imagining the horrors that Hattie must be facing at this exact moment. I’ll kill them all,
slowly
. I’ll make every man who even thought about touching my princess suffer with excruciating pain. There is no other woman for me. Had I manned up and not let her leave, she wouldn’t be hurt.

It’s all my fault.

Everything is all my fault.

My phone vibrates in my hand and I look down, hoping to have answers about Hattie, but it’s my mother. If I ignore her, she won’t stop. Against my better judgment, I answer the call.

“Johnny, I need money,” she says shakily. She sounds like she’s coming down, hard, from a high.

“I just gave you a grand last week,” I balk.

“Your father took it all, baby. I’m in so much pain,” she cries out.

I don’t doubt that she is indeed in pain, and I don’t doubt that my father took the money I gave her. He probably spent it on other bitches, or maybe he gave her some drugs and is now making her pay for something she said or did. Fuck if I know. They’re so fucking screwed up, it’s ridiculous. Unfortunately for my mother, her drug addiction is the least of my worries. Today, I give not one fuck about her problems.

“I’ve given you enough money over the years to buy a house with cash, mom. I’m done,” I say nonchalantly.

“Johnny, I gave you life. I took care of you. I’ve suffered for you. Please, baby, please,” she begs.

She’s correct in only one thing. She gave me life. She didn’t take care of me and she’s never suffered
for
me. She’s suffered, but not for me. Not to give me a better life as a child; not to make sure that I didn’t go without.

No, she’s an addict, solely focused on herself and her next fix. I’ve given in time after time, because when she would try to clean herself up, she wasn’t all bad. But those moments were always few and far between, and the past decade they’ve been nonexistent.

“You’ve done nothing but bully, moan, bitch and whine money out of me for years. I’m done. I have more important shit on my plate right now. I don’t have time to hear you complain about not having any poison to inject in your veins,” I announce before I hang up the phone. Then I do something that I should have done a long fucking time ago. I block her number.

My focus is on Hattie, who can’t help herself. She is in a situation because of me, not because she’s put herself there. She’s completely, one hundred percent innocent, and she’s most likely suffering unimaginable things because of her affiliation with me.

Fuck
.

T
he only positive thing about my situation is the fact that I’m still in my own apartment. The bad news is that there are four big ass, creepy bikers in here with me. Currently, they’re eating my food and watching my television while they smoke and drink beer. I’m chained to my headboard in my bra and panties.

I thought they were going to rape me; and when they made that video for Johnny and dragged me off of the bed by my hair, I knew it was going to happen. But then the head honcho just tied me up and has pretty much left me alone. I’m not going to complain one tiny bit about that.

I don’t know who they are or why they’re here, but it has something to do with Johnny. I know that much. I heard what they said when they were recording a message to him. They’re going to whore me out and sell me if Johnny doesn’t break some kind of contract with some Russians.

I don’t know what any of it means. I want to believe that Johnny is going to burst through my front door at any given second and save me, but as the hours tick by, it looks less and less likely that that will happen.

“Your man don’t really give much of a shit about you, does he?” one of the men asks as he takes a bite of a sandwich. He looks dirty,
scummy
, overly thin with pockmarks on his face. I’m actually surprised he’s eating and not sticking a needle in his arm.

I don’t say a word, refusing to speak to these monsters—these men that have groped and threatened me. I’m thankful that, at this point, they haven’t done more to me, but I’m under no illusion that they won’t. If Johnny doesn’t meet their demands, I have a feeling that what’s left of my life is going to be extremely cruel.

“It’s time. Call him,” one man yells out. The man standing in the doorway grins.

“Get ready, baby, this call determines your fate,” he chuckles.

I watch as he picks up his phone and hits a couple of buttons. Then his eyes fly to me and he smiles widely as it rings. It’s on speakerphone, and the other men gather around him, their gazes focused on me, as if they are animals waiting to pounce on their prey.

“Dirty,” I hear Johnny bark into the phone. My whole body starts to tremble.

I’ve remained calm during most of this whole thing, praying and trying not to react to these monsters. But hearing Johnny’s voice, hearing how tired and defeated he sounds—it hurts.

“Now we haven’t received word that you’ve gotten the Devils to cancel that contract with the Russians,” the man who called says into the phone.

“Where’s my woman?” he grinds out.

“She’s safe for now. Unfortunately, for you and her, that won’t be for long. You have one hour to do as I’ve requested, or we fuck her for as long as we want her, then we sell her,” he says nonchalantly.

“You touch one hair on her head and I’ll fuckin’ torture you,” he screams into the phone.

“Dirty, you’re showing how much you care about some little whore. Tsk tsk,” he guffaws. “One hour.”

I watch as he pushes a button, ending the call.

The four men are all staring at me hungrily. They look as though they’re ready to pounce on me. Then, to my surprise, they all leave the room.

I breathe a sigh of relief and pray that Johnny finds me, or that Andy comes over, for whatever reason, and saves me. It feels hopeless to pray, but I do it anyway. I’ll do whatever I can at this point. I do not want them to get a hold of me. I won’t survive it if they do.

One hour.

It isn’t long enough.

Once the women and children were secured at the clubhouse, a group of us loaded onto our bikes and rode to Sagle. The video they sent me was in her bedroom. Odds are, she’s still there. It would be a risk to try and move her from her building, but these fuckers aren’t very smart, so it’s a fuckin’ toss up if she’s still there.

I listened to that fucking video on a loop for about an hour, unable to actually watch it. I know who it is. Blow.
Fucking Blow
, the ex-president of the Canadian chapter of the
Notorious Devils
. He’s a dumb motherfucker, too. A piece of shit that used to be my brother but couldn’t stay away from the hard shit. Turned into a fuckin’ crackhead and ran his club into the damn ground. It took four charters full of men and his own crew turning against him to get him out of power. We should have killed him on the fucking spot.

Fury, Drifter, Sniper, Vault, Grizz, Torch and I kill our engines about four blocks from Hattie’s apartment complex. We fuckin’ hauled ass to get here, breaking every speed limit between Bonners Ferry and Sagle, shaving fifteen minutes off of the drive too. We dismount and walk the rest of the way in silence. We’re loaded with guns and knives, ready to take on these motherfuckers. I’m not letting them touch Hattie. No way in fuck.

I was serious when I said I was going to torture Blow.

I will, with no hesitation.

Though I said I would do it only if he touched a hair on her head—
I lied
. I’m doing it anyway. That piece of scum is going to die, slowly. He’s a traitor and a liability. He must be put to ground. I grin as I climb the stairs up to Hattie’s apartment as quietly as I can. I look over to Fury as I put my ear to the door and my grin turns into a fucking giant as shit smile.

I can hear the television and men’s voices through the door. They’re here, which means Hattie is here, which means it’s time for them to pay and die. How fucking stupid can they be?

I lift my foot to kick the door down, but pause. They’re stupid as fuck, yeah, but I don’t think they’re this stupid. I put my foot down and back away, signaling for the men to follow me. We hurry out of sight and around the corner of the building.