Tuck's Wrath Read online

  Jana was starving, hating the fact she had to rely on whoever these assholes were to keep her alive. She knew William was behind all of this, and it was only a matter of time before he finally made his presence known. She missed her son, and Bobbie—hell, she missed Tuck and everyone at the club she’d gotten to be friendly with. Having everything ripped away, her entire life just yanked out from under her, was so jarring that she hadn’t stopped shaking.

  Taking a bite of the sandwich, she gagged when she tried to swallow it. She set it aside. She was worried, nervous, scared, and didn’t even know how much longer she’d be alive.

  Jana curled up on the cot, and the scent of blood, dirt, and something faintly metallic, filled her nose. She closed her eyes, let her body take control as she shook, cried, and pictured herself somewhere else. She didn’t stop herself from drifting off to sleep, didn’t try to stop herself from relaxing for a short time. Not being here, at least while she slept, was a small reprieve.

  Jana must have fallen asleep, because the sound of metal creaking and scraping against metal jarred her awake. She sat up, blinked until her vision cleared, and saw a large form in the doorway. The light from the hall made the person shadowy and dark, and impossible to identify. But she knew who it was, knew who watched her, waiting, tormenting her without even saying anything.

  “Just do whatever you’re going to do, William.”

  He stepped in after she spoke, shut the door behind him, and went for the belt of his pants. “Where is he, Jana?” William asked. Her vision had adjusted back to the darkness, and she looked into his face. He was handsome, but a thug, a drug addict and dealer, and so damn toxic in everything he did and represented that she hated herself for even being with him in the first place. The only good thing that had come out of that relationship was Braden, her sweet, kind, and caring little boy.

  “Fuck you,” she said, not caring anymore what he did to her. “You won’t have him. Kill me, rape me, beat me, since you’re so damn good at all that shit, but I won’t tell you where Braden is.”

  He stepped closer, his grin menacing, the crooks of his arms having track marks. For a drug addict he kept himself clean and collected, kept himself strong. But he wasn’t strong enough to get information out of her when it concerned hurting the people she loved.

  He pulled the belt free from the loops. He brought the belt down on her arms, over and over again until her flesh was hot, raised, burning. She refused to cry, refused to give him the satisfaction. But Jana couldn’t help the whimpers that spilled from her when the metal part cut into her flesh. That was when the blackness started creeping around the edges of her vision as the pain became too much for her to handle.

  Jana didn’t fight it. She let it carry her off, let it take her away from the disappointment, the fear and agony. She didn’t want to be here, so she envisioned the people she cared about, and that one day she’d go back to them … no matter what.

  ****

  Tuck walked into the seedy little bar, the cigarette he hadn’t lit yet hanging from his lips, and the nasty scent of sweat, cheap cologne, and vomit filled his nose. The strip club that he was currently in was a few towns over and a couple hours away from the clubhouse. It was a small piece of shit city that was barely a blip on the map, and was the home of druggies, pimps, prostitutes, and anyone else that wanted to get away with shit because the cops didn’t care.

  The stripper on stage looked about fifty, with saggy tits, a belly that hung over her G-string, and a face that looked like it had seen better days. Tuck didn’t discriminate on what a woman looked like. He liked all females, liked their bodies in different shapes and sizes, but that grandma up there, with the missing teeth, and the ones that were still intact black, was just nasty as fuck. She was probably snorting up before she climbed on that stage. The track marks certainly showcased a typical lifestyle in this shit town.

  Tuck went over to the bar, didn’t sit on the barstool because it probably had some fucker’s spunk spewed across it, and didn’t touch the counter for the same reason.

  “Where’s M?” Tuck called out to the guy tending the bar. The old man turned around, a dirty towel slung over his shoulder, and missing one eye.

  “Who the hell wants to know?” the old man said.

  “Me, obviously.”

  The man didn’t respond.

  Tuck leaned in. “Listen, you old motherfucker. Tell me where he is. He’s expecting me.” He lit his cigarette and inhaled deeply. The man didn’t move for a few seconds, and Tuck exhaled slowly. “Where. Is. He?” Tuck was getting even more pissed. He’d driven up here, hoping M could give him some information on where he might start looking for Jana, and this old bastard wanted to give him a hard time.

  Finally the guy tipped his chin toward the side of the room. Tuck looked in that direction. A scarred door was off to the side, the red paint peeling. He made his way over there, pulled it open, and immediately heard the moans of women coming from the four doors, two on each side.

  He moved past them without even caring, stopped at the only other door in this hallway filled with cigarette butts on the ground, used condoms in the corner, and dead cockroaches smashed into the faded grey carpet that looked like maybe blood, piss, vomit, and even shit was matted into it. God, he’d need to take a shower just from stepping inside this place.

  He brought his fist down on the door, and when he heard a muffled “Yeah?” come through he pushed the door open and walked inside. The stench of weed and booze filled Tuck’s nose. Seated behind a shitty looking desk was Maris, or M as he went by. Tuck had known M for the last twenty years. He was ashamed to admit he’d been heavy in heroin back then, not caring about anything or anyone aside from getting his next line and needle. That was how he’d ended up with the pretty mark on his face and neck. Damn, he remembered that night like it hadn’t happened so long ago.

  “Well I’ll be damned. If it isn’t motherfucking Boston Oakley up in my house after all this time,” M said.

  A bag of what Tuck knew was heroin was beside M, a pile of weed on his desk, and a baggie of white colored crystal next to that. Meth, that’s what that crystal shit was. Meth was a hot seller in this town, not only because it got people higher than a fucking jet, but because it was cheap. It was cheap because everything under the kitchen sink was cut in it.

  “I see you’re still sporting that nice ass scar,” M said, his grin wide and sporting off his gold-capped tooth. He ran a hand over his throat, and Tuck knew his beard covered part of his neck that the scar marked up. Like Tuck didn’t know where his scar was.

  “Yeah, still sporting that fucking scar,” Tuck said blandly. He looked at the two men standing on either side of M, their big guts on display under their dirty and stained white shirts.

  “I haven’t seen you in, damn…” M scratched his scraggly looking beard and grinned again. “Twenty years, right? Ever since that drunk cut you up real good.”

  Tuck gritted his teeth, telling himself getting into it with M wasn’t why he came here. “I need a favor.”

  M lifted an eyebrow. He leaned back in the seat, lifted his arms, and placed his hands behind his head. His blond hair was greasy, long, and Tuck knew that under that bandana there was a nice shiny bald head and scars that spoke of a harder, more violent life.

  “Well, tell me, Boston—”

  “It’s Tuck. Just fucking Tuck now, M.”

  M lifted his eyebrow again. “That’s right, ‘cause you’re in that biker club, right?” Tuck didn’t bother responding to that. Tuck had on his cut, but he wore his jacket over it.

  “So, what do I owe this honor of the meanest, most vicious fucking man on the planet coming and paying little ol’ me a visit?”

  Tuck’s past was as tarnished as they came, maybe even more for the shit he’d allowed in his life, but that was in the past, two decades ago when it was a different time and a different life. He was clean, had been and hadn’t touched H since he left all of this behind. “I need a favor,
and I need it done tonight.”

  “A favor, huh? That’ll cost you.”

  Yeah, Tuck knew this, but if he weren’t desperate he wouldn’t have come to this hellhole. The club wouldn’t have approved for him to come here alone, and he hadn’t asked them for their damn permission. He was running on pure adrenaline and need to find Jana right now. Going rogue on the MC was not good, and because he hadn’t passed this idea off in a meeting and had it voted on he’d done just that … gone fucking rogue.

  Chapter Four

  Despite Jana’s face burning, her arms and legs bruised from the beatings William had given her these last few days, she still struggled, still fought with everything in her. She couldn’t give up, couldn’t allow weakness to overcome her because then she’d surely be dead.

  William was cursing as she clawed at his hand that held her hair. He was dragging her down a hallway, and in the short time she’d been here she’d realized several things, and understood what was going on even if no one told her.

  He meant to sell Jana into a sex trafficking ring. The very idea William was that sadistic and that twisted, shouldn’t have been so surprising, but it was, and she hated herself for thinking differently.

  “If you would have stayed instead of running off like a fucking cunt, I wouldn’t have gone to such extremes,” William gritted out.

  No, she should have just stayed in an abusive relationship that was escalating. She would have been dead, and her son would have been left in the hands of a psycho. He hauled her into a room, and she slammed head first into the hard ground. Stars bounced in front of her vision, but she pushed that away, needing to try to stay in this moment.

  “I can see you’re still a fucking fat cunt.” He spat on the ground. “Look at you, still carrying around that weight. You make me sick, Jana, really damn sick. I would have thought by now you would have lost enough weight that you wouldn’t be a walking whale.” He spat on the floor again. “I shouldn’t be damaging the merchandise, but then again I have been waiting for this for a long fucking time, Jana.” He moved closer. “Besides, I have a buyer lined up that likes his meat tenderized, broken in for what he has planned.”

  Jana was used to this type of abuse, has lived with it for a long time. Yes, she was thicker, had been considered plus size while growing up, but she’d always appreciated her healthier frame. William hadn’t started spouting off his insults until much later in their relationship, and then once they started he hadn’t stopped.

  She didn’t respond, didn’t dare say anything because it would only make this so much worse. She looked over her shoulder, saw that he was on his cell, and quickly looked around the room to see if there was anything she could use as a weapon.

  “Yeah, I’m going to break in the merchandise before I put it on the van. Figure she needs to really see how it’s going to be with the clients from this point on.”

  It. To William and the men like him that’s all she was, a slab of meat, a piece of merchandise, and if she didn’t try to do something right now she’d be the “It” to a lot men. There was a cracked lamp, a nasty looking bed with stained sheets … and nothing else.

  “I’ll take as long as I fucking want to take,” William said to whoever was on the phone.

  She slowly rose from the floor, tried to blink past the dizziness that assaulted her when she’d hit her head on the floor, and looked at William once more. He had his back to her, and she quickly moved toward the lamp. It was her only weapon, her only chance of maybe hitting him upside the head and knocking him out. She didn’t know anything about where she was aside from the few pieces of conversation she’d heard from men walking by the cell she’d been trapped in, but she had to get back to River Run. She had to get back to Braden, Bobbie, Tuck … everyone.

  She unplugged the lamp, moved back toward William, and when she was only a few feet away he got off the phone and turned back to her. He smirked when he saw the lamp she held.

  “Come on, Jana. You know better than that.”

  “You think you can sell me off like I mean nothing?” she shouted, tears slightly blurring her vision.

  “You are nothing, will always be nothing, and it doesn’t matter if you tell me where my son is, because I found you.” He grinned. “I’ll find him, and then I’ll bring my boy into the family business.”

  Bile rose in her throat, and she felt her stomach churn. She dropped the lamp, heard it shatter, felt a sharp piece cut into her foot, but didn’t care about the pain.

  “There is that weak little bitch I controlled.”

  There was a knock on the door, and he turned his head to the side. Jana bent down to grab a large piece of ceramic that had broken off of the lamp.

  “I’m fucking busy in here.” He turned back toward her, and without thinking, without even contemplating what she was about to do, Jana just reacted and went to cut William. Anger, horror, sadness, and a plethora of other emotions bombarded her, consumed her, made her vision go hazy, and had instinct taking over.

  Jana brought the shard of ceramic to his neck. All she could see was this man trying to hurt her son and take everything away from her. She watched his flesh open up, saw the blood gush out in slow motion, then felt the hotness of the viscous liquid cover her face and chest.

  She couldn’t move, couldn’t even breathe as she watched him cup the side of his throat, his eyes wide, his mouth opened. He lunged at her, but she stepped back, instincts taking over. She felt stronger in this one moment, no longer shaking, no longer crying. Adrenaline pumped through her veins, her muscles ached from the rush of endorphins, and she was thankful her body was in control, if only for this one moment.

  He gargled something out, fell to his knees, and she saw the pool of redness cover the ground. Her feet were bare, and the blood seeped closer to her. She moved, reacted without thinking. He held his neck still, and held out his other hand toward her, as if he were trying to get to her, or maybe trying to have her help. Blood seeped from his throat, pooling right before her like a macabre scene. She’d done this, caused this, and she knew she had to react while she was still strong enough to.

  Lunging for the door, she opened it, looked down the hallway, and when she didn’t see anyone she took off in the only direction that she could. The sound of her bare feet slapping against the hard, cold cement was loud, but not as loud as the sound of her heart beating in her ears.

  She rounded the corner, came to a halt when she saw this overweight man with stains on his shirt, his zipper undone, and his comb-over looking like it was greasy as hell. He held a sandwich, his fingers filthy, covered in food, dirt, and grease. They stared at each other for a suspended moment.

  “What the hell?” he muttered. He looked behind him, then tossed the sandwich to the side. He came charging at her, but she had nowhere to run. If she turned around she’d be going down to a dead end, back to where William was. She could try to dart by him. He was big and probably slow, but as she tried to do that he grabbed her hair and yanked her backward. Before she hit the ground he had her spun around and pressed against the cold, dirty wall.

  “You want to run away, little girl?” His breath was foul, rancid, and he chuckled deeply when she didn’t respond.

  She tried to get out of his hold, but he wrapped his hand around her throat and started squeezing the air from her lungs.

  “You can’t run away when the fun’s just begun.” He leaned in, ran his tongue up her cheek. She’d felt William’s blood coat her face when she’d cut him, but clearly this pig didn’t care that it was all over her as he licked at her face. She struggled fruitlessly, and just as he had his hand on the button of her jeans this loud, booming sound rang out.

  Jana’s ears rang, but it wasn’t the gunshot that shocked her, but the fact there was now a hole in the side of the man’s head. He fell to the ground a second later, and she turned her head slowly to the side, feeling her eyes huge, her mouth open, and the ground rushing up to greet her.

  She looked at the man t
hat had shot her assailant. The man standing a few feet from her, a gun in his hand, close to his outer thigh, and this fierce, crazed expression on his face, was the one person she’d hoped, prayed, would come for her, even if it had sounded ridiculous even to her.

  “Tuck,” she breathed out. Safety, protection, and this warmth filled her, but she still felt everything tilt around her. Placing a hand on the wall, she held on, trying to stabilize her so she didn’t crash right now.

  “Come on, baby,” he said in a deep voice, and rushed over to her.

  She let him take her away, let him lead them out of the place that she’d been in for the last … God, she didn’t even know how long, but long enough that being with Tuck made everything feel okay.

  A man stepped out from one of the doors down the hall, his surprised expression evident. She looked at Tuck, saw him raise his gun, the expression on his face calm, collected … deadly. Jana looked at the other man, and as if everything was in slow motion the guy lifted his hands in surrender. But then everything rushed forward, as if someone pressed fast forward. Tuck pulled the trigger, the bullet slamming right between the asshole’s eyes. Then they were moving again. He was cautious as he made his way out of the building, but still fierce in the way he held his gun out, ready to kill anyone else. They continued moving out of the building, and when they were outside she sucked in a lungful of air, reality slamming into her. She was free. Free.

  There was a truck in the distance, and before she could move any further toward it Tuck had her in his arms and was striding toward the vehicle. She didn’t miss how he scanned the lot, made sure no one waited for them. She didn’t miss the two bodies on the ground just feet from the truck, and she swallowed her fear, swallowed the lump in her throat that was building because she’d been trapped in a nightmare for too long.