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Protecting Candy. Protecting my brothers. Getting to the bottom of what the hell happened last night on more than oneaccount. Starting with the piece of shit I knocked out for trying to force himself on her in Room Six.
I take my bike to the empty warehouse next to Candy Canes and park the bike on its side stand in the car park round the back.
North said we couldn’t touch the rapist piece of shit that snuck into our club under a false identity. Not until we have answers at least. But I’ve got the green light to make the punk from Room Six sing like the proverbial canary.
I walk up to the warehouse and push open the fire door. The main lights are off, but plenty of daylight shines through the large but grimy windows, bathing the length of the building in a dusty glow. The rough concrete floor and industrial steel tables and chairs are stark, but it’s a look North and I want. It’s been a long time since we had to use this space, but it’s still functional.
Striding through to the back, I cross my arms against my chest and stop outside the closed door that leads into the room where he’s waiting. I listen for any sounds within, double check my gun is in my waistband – not that I plan to use it – and then take a deep breath.
Wrenching the heavy metal door open, I step into the darkened cell and flick on the heavy fluorescent lights overhead. The piece of shit that got way too handsy with Candy is strapped to a chair, and by the looks of him, one or two of my brothers got there first in reminding him what ’no’ means when it comes from a woman.
“Do you know who I am?” I ask him. He stinks like a dirty fucker, but then again, getting the shit kicked out of you does tend to make you sweat.
He’s muttering something through his swollen lips, but I can’t make it out. I grab his chin and roughly yank his head in my direction.
“I asked you a fucking question,” I say, my voice booming around the room.
“N-n-no…” he starts.
“I’m the fucking bouncer of the club you frequented last night, and I had my eyes on you the entire fucking time.”
“I’m sorry about the drink. I can pay for it!”
I laugh humorlessly, the sound grating and cruel in the small metal lined room we have him locked in.
“We don’t lock people up for stealing drinks out of their allotted allowance.”
“Then why—”
Fury fills me and my fist flies out to crunch against bone before I’m even fully aware I’ve moved. His whole body jolts, and the chair he’s strapped to wobbles beneath him.
“Because of her! Candy!” I roar in his face.
“W-who…” he hesitates, but I’ll be damned if his fucking confusion doesn’t fan the flames of my rage. How dare he treat Candy like that and not even have the decency to remember!
It takes several more hits – to his solar plexus this time – to remind him what I’m talking about.
“I’m sorry,” he coughs out, spitting blood at my feet. Like that’s going to cut it. “It’s not how it looked. We know each other—”
“The only reason you’re breathing right now is because I need fucking answers from you.”
“I’ll tell you anything you want to know. Just don’t hit me again. Please.”
“How do you know her?” I ask him coldly.
“Grace?” His eyes dart to the side and then widen in fear as he figures out that I’m not here alone. North stands in the doorway, watching the exchange with interest.
“Candy Grace Canse,” I grind out, my rage growing. My jaw actually aches from clenching it so tightly. “What the hell did you do to her?”
“Nothing! I swear! I was just having some fun.”
“Didn’t sound like she was having any fun at all, you rapist little prick.”
“What? No! We used to date and when a friend of mine said he’d seen her at the club, I came to check it out.”
“Why?”
“I wanted to see her again.”
