Page 22 of Sweet Revenge for the Bikers

“Let me ask you again. Why. Are. You. Here?”

Angry dark eyes glare at me from the floor. “You happy now, bitch? First they killed Red, now Turk’s probably dead. Your daddy must be so fucking proud.”

Ice floods my veins. “Someone killed Red? When?” I might not have liked him, but I didn’t want him dead.

“At the fucking rally. When do you think?” He sneers. “Was it before or after you spread for the fucking Eagles?”

The accusation hits me like a slap. “I…”

“Something you want to say, Melody?” Rebel asks, his voice deceptively calm.

The guy on the floor lets out an ugly, wet, laugh. “Trouble in paradise?”

Mad Dog kicks him in the side. “Shut the fuck up. I’m sick of hearing you whine.”

Rebel pulls the knife out of the carpet and cuts a long slice off the bottom of the guy’s own shirt before balling it up and shoving it in his mouth. He uses more of the butcher’s twine, wrapping it a couple times around his head before tying it off in a bow right over his mouth.

Riptide closes the distance between us and looks down with those stormy blue eyes. “I think maybe we need to have another talk.”

I knew it couldn’t last, but a stupid part of me had hoped that I could give them enough to help, while still staying loyal to my father, but now I’m caught out in being more than I seemed, and not in a good way.

Rebel’s expression is locked down, giving nothing away. Mad Dog looks angry, and unless I’m wrong, hurt. I’ve only known them for two days, but it feels much longer. Like I owe them more.

“I know, and I will, but in front of him, okay?” I’m not sure I could bear it if I had to confess everything in front of the guy taking so much glee in my downfall.

They give me time to pack a few things, and I spend the whole ride back behind Rebel, trying to remember every bit of it because it might be my last.

13

REBEL

PUT HER IN THE PIT.

Fuck.

Fuck.

Fuck, fuck, and more fuck.

The steps down from Eagle-eye’s meeting room feel much longer than usual. I understand why he made the call he did, but that doesn’t mean I like it.

It was a long, hard ride back from Melody’s house. Riptide stayed behind with the hostage. He’s waiting for Outlaw so they can finish the interrogation and deal with the body of the guy he found sneaking around the back.

How did things go to hell so fucking fast?

Melody sits at the table in the common room, flanked by Mad Dog and Preacher. She looks fucking miserable, just staring down at her hands while she waits to hear what we’re going to do with her.

Obviously she didn’t pull the trigger. The three of us can give her an ironclad alibi on that front, but it’s also really fucking clear she’s been holding back information. She knew who Red was, and we all heard that fucker talk about her daddy. She didn’t look confused when he said it. She looked guilty.

Shit, even now I wanna give her the benefit of the doubt. My gut says she isn’t really a danger, but I don’t fucking know, and that pisses me off. Even if she isn’t the enemy, it doesn’t mean she isn’t being used against us. Eagle-eye made it perfectly clear that no matter what our personal feelings are, we gotta put the club first.

“What’s the call?” Mad Dog asks, his voice unusually flat.

“It’s real fucking late. She’s spending the night in the Pit. We’ll bring her in and do a new interview in the morning.”

His eyebrows go up in surprise, but he holds off on saying anything.

“The Pit?” Melody looks at me in horror. Her eyes are like two shadowed saucers. “Are there spikes, or snakes, or…? It sounds like you’re putting me in a dungeon!”