Chapter Thirteen Babe

CHAPTER THIRTEEN: BABE

As soon as Min drives away, we get busy with the gift she left us. After transferring the man to a club SUV, the prospect takes off with the SUV Min stole. The Chicago club owns a chop shop. They have a profitable side business of stealing cars, dismantling them into parts, and then selling the parts to the various Demon Dawgs' Chapters around the country. The chop shop hides inside a reputable salvage business. They're so efficient that the few times the cops have come knocking with a search warrant, the car they were searching for was already in pieces and shipped out of town.

Torque and I take the piece of shit back to the clubhouse. Scorch stays behind to keep an eye on the church. He'll let me know if he sees any activity. Like if my targets show up. Torque pulls into the clubhouse and circles around to the back, coming to a stop next to a squat brick building that might have been a house at one time.

"Welcome to the Shed," Torque says as he opens the back door of the SUV and drags out our guest. The guy doesn't move. Not sure how Min incapacitated the asshole, but she did a thorough job. "This was where the guard lived when our clubhouse was a furniture factory. We almost tore it down, but then we discovered it had a feature we liked. A basement."

The boarded windows keep the inside dark. Until Torque turns on the light. I can see the outlines of where walls used to stand, but they've broken through them to create a single room they use for storage. The room's a jumble of unused furniture, piles of supplies, and stacks of boxes. Torque weaves his way through the chaos and around a tall bookcase that reaches to the ceiling. Pointing to a file cabinet, he tells me to push it to the side. Once I do, I spot the hidden door behind it. With all the clutter, you couldn't see that wall on the left side of the building extends further in to make room for a staircase leading down into a basement.

I follow Torque downstairs and watch as he dumps the guy on the ground. He reaches up and pulls down several chains, complete with old-style handcuffs. As I help him string the guy up, I hear the door open and the sound of several men clomping down the stairs.

"Heard you brought us a toy to play with?" Bush calls out. When he sees the skinny guy we've strung up, he grunts in disappointment. "He won't take long to break."

Piston chuckles as he picks up a bucket and carries it over to the sink. "Come on Bush, don't be mean to our guest. It's been too long since we had someone down here."

Bush nods. "True. What has this guy done, and what information do we need?"

I give him a rundown on what Min uncovered while placing the cameras. "Min overheard the men complaining about how they broke the woman's jaw. They ordered this guy to dump her body off a cliff or a tall building to make her injuries look like they came from a fall."

"Is that so?" growls Bush, who gestures for Piston to do the honors.

Piston carries the bucket full of water over and heaves it over his head. The man sputters and curses until he sees the four of us standing in front of him. His skin turns an ugly shade of grey as his eyes widen in fear.

"Who are you? Where am I? What do you want?" he stutters.

"You forgot ‘when' and ‘how.'" Bush smirks. "We're the Demon Dawgs. Where we are is inside our torture room. What we want is for you to tell us where to find Jordan and his merry band of escaped convicts. As for when you die, that depends on how quickly you give us the information we want. Which also dictates how you'll die."

"Die?" He squeaks. "I don't want to die."

"But you will kill an injured woman by tossing her off a cliff?" I ask.

He gulps, but doesn't respond.

"Answer the man!" Piston shouts as he slams his fist into the guy's gut. Since he's shackled only by his arms, his body sways from the force of the blow.

"I was just following orders," he whimpers. "I didn't have a choice."

"Bullshit. There's always a choice."

"Who was she? What did you want with her?" I ask.

"I don't know," he stammers.

The four of us look at each other. "Do we believe him?" I ask.

Bush snorts. "Fuck, no. Maybe he'll be more forthcoming once we give him a taste of what they did to her." Without warning, Bush unleashes a barrage of jabs into our guest's gut and rib cage. The sound of bones breaking echoes around the room, along with the asshole's screams.

"Now, let's start with your name," Bush says.

"Kevin," he squeaks out when Bush draws his fist back.

"Good. Now, Kevin, who was the woman you were going to kill?"

"Her name was Angie, that's all I know. They never said her last name while they questioned her. Just her first."

"What information did they want from her?"

"They're looking for someone. Vivian and Colin Chambers. They owned Chambers Medical Group with her husband before they split up. They're trying to find out where they went."

"Why the fuck is Jordan interested in them?" I ask.

Kevin shakes his head, the sweat beading on his forehead flying off. "Not Jordan. Some Asian guy. He hired Jordan to help him find the doctor."

"Who's the guy?"

"Don't know," Kevin says, his eyes widening when Bush steps forward. "I swear. They never said his name. But I swear the guy is just off the boat from China. Or Japan. I can't tell them apart." I roll my eyes at his comment. No wonder other cultures hate us. We're too lazy to understand the world we live in.

"Did they say why they're looking for the doctor?"

"No. But he wants to find her. I heard Jordan crowing about how much the guy's paying him to grab women and hurt them. He said it's like what they say. Do what you love and the money will follow." He gulps when he sees the rage on our faces.

"Where is Jordan now?"

"I don't know. He has places all over Chicago. He prefers abandoned buildings. I think he has a house, but I've never been there."

"What about the men who flew in from San Diego? Where are they?" I ask.

"I don't know. They came to the church first, but Jordan sent them to a different location. I don't know where. I'm telling you, I know nothing. My job is to guard the property and watch over the—"

I narrow my eyes at him when his voice trails off. "Over the what?"

He gulps, and I know he's about to lie to us as his eyes dart around the room.

"Valuables."

"What the fuck do they have at a church that's valuable?" Rush asks with a snort.

"Girls," I supply and see my guess has hit the mark when our captive flinches. "Min found a young woman in the basement. Naked."

"You fucking piece of shit!" Torque explodes, whipping out a knife and slashing him across the chest.

His scream cuts off when Torque fists his hair and yanks his head back, placing the knife against his throat. Did you fucking rape her?"

His eyes widen in fear as he frantically tries to shake his head. "The girls are only there for Jordan and his chosen few."

"How many?" I shout at him.

"How many what? Men?"

"How many girls?" I ask Kevin. "How many girls has that bastard kidnapped and raped?"

"Ten."

"How many are in the basement right now?"

"Five. They don't last long. Jordan gets first pick. Once he's done with them, the rest of the guys pull a train. Five of the girls didn't survive. Just kill me. I can't take any more."

"How many?" I demand.

"How many, what?" He asks in confusion.

"How many of the girls did you rape?"

I know he wants to lie, but he glances at Bush before hanging his head. "All of them."

"You want to die? Okay, I'll make that happen." I grab a knife off the table and slice his dick off before ramming the blade into his asshole. Kevin screams until he's hoarse while we watch the blood flow out of him. He won't die quickly. But he'll die.

"We can't tell Min about the other girls," I tell Bush and Torque. "She'll never forgive herself if she finds out that she left them behind."

"She couldn't have known," Torque protests.

"Won't matter. She'll blame herself. Fuck, I blame myself. I never considered that they could have more women. And I should have. I know enough about this bastard Jordan. He thinks women are his to do with as he wants."

I glance at Kevin, who's stopped struggling and hangs limply from the chains. The image of Jordan replaces him, and I know that seeing him bleed out won't satisfy me. Jordan needs to die screaming.