“The plan was real simple: infiltrate the Hangmen, move through the ranks, and shoot the intel back to Prophet David and the elders. And I did. Did it to damn near perfection. It was us who undercut the Russian deal—I told them the details—began to phase the Hangmen outta the gun game. We got better guns. Russians had no complaints. Your old man going to the boatman was just the icing on the cake. I mean, his young kid, a mute bastard, taking the gavel? Putty in our f**kin’ hands.

“It was us who put the bid on your head with the Nazis. Pit eventually took the fall. It weren’t too hard to make you think the prospect was corrupt—like taking candy from a baby. But then Mae turned up, bleeding out. Everything changed for me. The whole f**kin’ game changed.”

Rider stroked his brown beard and a smirk appeared on his lips. I made a silent promise to myself to cut off Rider’s head and mount it on my wall, a trophy to smirk back at every day for the rest of my life. I’d never wanted to maim and kill a motherfucker so much. I wanted him to feel pain… lots of pain, so much pain that’d he’d beg me to end him.

“I didn’t know who Mae was at first.” He continued.

I tried my best to refocus. Anything he said could be useful. I needed to listen to every damn word out of this traitor’s brainwashed mouth.

“I’d never seen her before. I was kept away from the commune, kept away to study The Order’s leadership, study our teachings… study medicine, and learn how to heal. I was to be secluded until called upon to ascend. Things changed, though, and I was given a different mission: to infiltrate the Hangmen. I’d lived outside of commune, knew about life. I was the obvious choice to fit in with an outlaw MC.

“I’d heard of the four ‘Cursed Sisters’ of the commune, of course; the famed four beauties of The Order. We all had—Salome, her two sisters, and one other, Delilah. We, the brothers, were warned to stay away from them. They could tempt any man, cause them to fall. Salome was rumored to be the most beautiful of them all, but f**k, the rumors of her beauty were underestimated—that hair, those eyes… that sinful body. It wasn’t until I saw the tattoo on her wrist and the marks on her skin that I knew she was one of my own. I just couldn’t understand how she’d escaped. Then I got word from Gabriel that Salome had run away on her wedding day and I knew who you’d just taken in—one of the Cursed… the prophesized seventh wife of Prophet David. Taken her in and set out to make her your own. You turned her into your whore. Swayed her from The Order’s path of righteousness.”

Rider suddenly snarled and rushed me, slamming his fist into my stomach. The blow almost had me puking. I sucked up the pain. This asswipe would never break me. My hatred of him and his brothers was keeping me numb from pain.

“I wanted nothing to do with Mae. I had to let The Order know where she was, to organize the pick-up, and never get too close to risk all my work. She is Prophet David’s. But then you go and push her on me! You made me want her! Made me obsess about her!” He gripped my cheeks in his hand. “You ruined me! And now I have to deliver Mae back to him. My time’s up, keeping her away. I have to give her back!”

My lips curled over my teeth. Breathe. Swallow. Speak.

Fuckin’ speak! I ordered my throat.

But no words.

Yet again.

Fuck!

Rider laughed. “Still nothing to say, Prez?” he stepped back. “You’re pathetic. You couldn’t even grow a pair and speak to your woman when she was calling for you… crying for you. You never deserved her.”

I jerked so far forward off the gate my limbs bent too far. I felt my shoulder pop, probably dislocated, but I welcomed the pain. It would drive me. Fuel me on the path to revenge.

Rider edged in to say quietly, “I ain’t gonna kill you. No, it’d be too easy, and I don’t need no more blood on my hands. I’ve sinned too much for this club as it is.” The rat’s face fell at that, but then it immediately hardened the f**k back up. “I want you alive, Styx, knowing Mae is out there, knowing you ain’t gonna see her again. See how you like living the hell I’ve been through over these past few months. And don’t bother looking. You’ll never find us. No one ever does.”

“Brother Cain! We must leave now!” one of the men shouted from the yard.

Rider stalked off and never looked back. My heart pounded as the van engine started and I fought and fought against the ties until I had nothing left. I watched, strung up like a damn crucified mute pu**y as the van rolled south, down my country road. Hauling away my woman.

I shook with uncontrollable rage, and opening my mouth, I released a long, silent scream.

***

“Styx! What the f**k!” I opened my heavy eyes and saw Ky, Tank, and Bull dismount their Harley’s, running my way. Rows of burning-with-rage eyes watched me. Tens of brothers sat on their bikes at the compound’s entrance, staring at me hung up, naked and beaten, in some ancient Roman execution pose. The Hangmen had finally returned from the ride out and I had no idea how long I’d been out here, but only one thing was on my mind: revenge.

And Rider: dead.

Bull pulled out his Swiss Army knife from inside his boot and cut me down, some brothers propping up my weak ass when I couldn’t f**kin’ stand on my own.

“Who the f**k did this?” Ky hissed, his voice like a scream in the quiet of the watching brothers.

They killed their engines and the brothers quickly moved me inside. Once through the main doors of the bar, they dropped me on the nearest couch and someone threw a blanket over my beat-up, naked body.

Beauty.

The psycho trio stood before me, seething, fidgeting on anxious feet. The whole club seemed to pulse with rage. “I said what happened?” Ky pushed again.

Letti came gunning into the bar from my apartment. “She’s not there,” she said flatly. Shit. I’d never seen Letti shaken, but her dark eyes were huge now she’d found Mae’d gone.

“Where’s Mae?” Tank asked tightly. They already knew she’d been taken.

I sat forward and ran my fingers through my hair. AK pushed a bourbon in my hand and I knocked it back in one, feeling the slow burn down my throat.

“Who was it, Prez? Neos? Mexicans? We need to take out more of the Klan?” Flame growled as he constantly paced the floor like the goddamn f**khead he was—the brother was thirsting for blood. Good. I’d need him soon enough. There was a whole lotta blood to be shed.