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Shooting a look around at the houses nearby, I wondered if the neighbors would call the sheriff. We weren’t exactly in the boonies. Ashbourn was a proper town and the Rodgers lived on a cute little street, their neighbors at most fifty feet away. There wasn’t a peep, nor so much as a nosey twitch of curtains, even in the middle of the day.
Real nice neighborhood, I thought, spitting on the ground.
The white picket fences and carefully trimmed roses made me want to barf as they became forever associated with Winter’s marbled complexion. The battered and bruised wave of destruction displayed proudly by her tormentor on her exposed skin. From the ragged false claiming mark to the red of her blood seeping down into the parched earth, it was an exact match to the exquisitely tended roses out front of her folks’ place.
“How long you think he’s gonna be in there?” I took out my own smoke and lit up after he handed back my lighter. “The girl never said word one to me.”
“She communicates with him,” Grimm drawled. He shrugged and took a long drag. “Never seen him so turned around by a female. Maybe she’ll be good for him.”
“Hope so.”
Grimm grunted in agreement and we sat a while in silence, sucking on our smokes and watching the world turn by.
Mr. Rodgers’ pleas and Mrs. Rodgers’ indignant screams wafted out into the calm street.
Normally I wouldn’t condone violence done in front of a woman, but these humans had sold their own kid to the Bone Crushers. To become a sex slave. A forced mate. The Goddess only knew the atrocities that piece of shit I’d dragged behind my ride had thrust upon her.
Winter hadn’t let anyone touch her. No one had tended her wounds, not even Doc. Only our omega and our Enforcer had been able to get near her. And Carbon—her own mate—had been stuck with a handful of silver for his kindness. My brother didn’t begrudge his mate the act of defending herself, though that hand had to be stinging like a bastard as he went to work.
Some wounds went much deeper than blood.
“Take it, you filthy animal!” Mrs. Rodgers screeched. “Just take it and go.”
Moments later Carbon appeared in the doorway, wiping blood off his face with his bandana then tucked it away into the back pocket of his jeans. Over his shoulder, a fluffy, pink stuffy—bunny, it looked like—was poking out of his pack, and he was holding up something metallic and round between his raised fingers.
“Took a little persuasion to get Winter’s grandma's ring,” Carbon grumbled as he trotted down and threw a leg over his seat. “But I got it.”
Our brother slid the ring over his pinky and started his bike up.
Grimm looked pained as he flicked his smoke to the ground. “Tell me you didn't cut her finger off, man, ‘cause you know that shit ain’t cool.”
“If I’d taken off her finger, I would’ve brought it with me. For Winter.” The Enforcer rolled his eyes like his statement was completely obvious. “I’m not an idiot.”
“Nope,” I replied, kicking my bike to life. “Just a psycho.”
“I beat up on the husband a bit,” he admitted and hitched his pack up higher, the bunny flopping about over his head. “But I didn’t touch the wife. She’s just pissy about the state of her old man.”
“Fair enough.” Grimm pulled his bike out of the spot in front of the Rodgers’ house.
“Anyone else think it's weird that the neighbors didn’t even look out the windows to see what was going on?” I mumbled, fixing my helmet.
“Bone Crushers went to Louise’s house. Guess they were here, too,” Carbon shrugged. “That or they’re used to the screaming. Bet it's the latter. ‘Cause Winter freaked out when I took off my belt to get my shoulder holster free. Pretty sure she was beat on the regular before she got sold.” He spat on the ground. “Fucker.”
Grimm and I growled at the same time. Wife and child abusers were right up there with the sick bastards running the skin trade. “Wish Silver was here now.”
“Why?”
“To burn the house down,” I grinned.
“Winter only put two things on her list,” Carbon shrugged. “The bunny and the ring. I threw in the beat down of her pops for bonus points.”
I took one last look at the sickly-sweet suburban house on its idyllic little street and my stomach rolled again. Nausea climbed the back of my throat. My wolf scrambled under my skin, needing to get our claws wet on something. Anything.
Maybe we should have visited Sasha’s uncle first because my thirst for vengeance had only grown the more I saw.
And humans called us animals.
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