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“She’s dead,” Road said. There was no way she was getting out of this alive.
“Not yet, you heard her,” Brute said.
“What the fuck do I do? I can’t … he can’t hurt her. I won’t let him. I’ve got to turn myself in. I’ve got nothing to offer him in exchange.”
“You have,” Brute said.
“What?”
“Offer up the club.”
Road shook his head. “Fuck, no, I’m not doing that. I’m not a fucking rat.”
“Listen to me, Road, the guys are already on their way. You start negotiations by taking the blame for what happened at the docks. You tell him you give up yourself and the club. You go, he thinks you’re going alone, but we’ll be right there. All we need is the location, and the moment we get your signal, we’re hitting hard and fast. Your only job is to get Dinah.”
Road knew as a plan went, it was a long shot. A total long shot.
He ran a hand down his face, but he still didn’t like it. He never sold out the club, and would never turn his back on any of the men there. Anger and rage filled him as he wanted to end Golubev.
“He needs to die.”
“Then tonight, you make that shot. You make it count, and even if it injures him, you got what you needed.” Brute put a hand on his shoulder.
“Why are you doing this for me?” Road asked. “I don’t make your life easy. You have no reason to help me.”
“You’re my club brother, Road. You wear the patch that says it’s so, and even though we don’t see eye to eye, I know you’d die for me. Also, I know what it’s like to finally find your soulmate, and I know there is nothing more important in this world than my Faith and Jonah.”
It was the closest they had come to having a heart-to-heart. He was shocked.
“I’ve got to get her back. Even though she hates me.”
“Maybe this will help her see what you were dealing with.”
Chapter Thirteen
There were a lot of things in Dinah’s life that she had been afraid of. The darkness, horror movies, frozen garden peas. As a kid, they used to terrify her because they tasted like vomit. It was only as an adult that she got to see a huge benefit of enjoying peas, especially in pies, or curries, or as a nice bright color to a pasta casserole. She didn’t even know why she was thinking about peas right now.
She hated that she cried. She hated that he’d made her scream.
One of her fingers was twisted as Sergey had snapped her finger. He’d also made a cut in her thigh, giving her a taste of the blade that would be carving up her face. He told her to think about what her mother must have gone through—the fear and pain—but Dinah didn’t need to guess. She had witnessed her mother’s fear most of the days after she’d been attacked. Even though Angela had tried to hide it, there was no getting away from the fact that every ring of the doorbell, or knock, would send her mother into a panic.
Dinah knew it had gotten that bad, which was why she had stopped asking her mother to get the door, and even if she’d been dressed in a robe or had to run out of the shower, nearly killing herself in the process, she would get the door herself.
She couldn’t clench her hands. So far, he’d snapped one finger, and Dinah knew he intended to take all her fingers. She made a fool out of him. She spotted the bruises forming around his eyes, and he looked a mess, but she didn’t care. It gave her a delightful satisfaction, knowing he was hurting because of her, and there was no way he was getting away from it. This was good news for her.
She stared at him, waited, and continued to wait.
“Son of a bitch!” Sergey picked up a knife and hurled itacross the room.
Something told her this wasn’t good. Dinah stayed perfectly still. There was nothing more she could do. She was at the mercy of his anger.
“Little fucking bastards.” Sergey suddenly whirled around and he went for her. She couldn’t go anywhere as he had her tied to a chair. Her arms were tied, leaving her exposed to whatever abuse he wanted to do to her hands. Also, her legs were bound, and there was even a nice piece of rope around her midsection, and she figured that was to keep her in place.
He came toward her before she could even get over the blow to the face, and it was a full-on face slap, with his palm stinging so much she saw stars. Then, he wrapped his fingers around her neck, keeping her in place, not allowing her to breathe. This wasn’t good.
She always imagined that if she ever got the chance to confront Sergey Golubev, it would go down a lot differently.
“So, you intend to kill her, Father?”
