14. Colton

Layla's words confused me. I didn't have any clue what she was talking about, but I could see the hurt behind the mask and instinctively knew that it was something I was doing to put it there. What that was, I wasn't sure. I feel like I've been in an angry fog ever since I watched the life drain from my father's broken body. An angry haze that stung my skin every time I brushed against it. I shook my head and tried to focus on Layla to understand her better.

Was I mad at her? I didn't think I was, but she did, and that's all that mattered. Her decisions got us here? If it weren't for her, my father's body might still be lying in that fucking dirty room. She made sure that he would be taken care of with dignity, the way he deserved. Clarity suddenly struck, and my stomach twisted, realizing that she thought I was mad at her and blamed her for Dad's death. That couldn't be further from the truth. Dad's last wishes were not to let Layla blame herself, and I was already fucking it up.

"Hellcat," I rasped, my grief-laden voice unrecognizable to my ears, "I'm not mad at you, and I don't blame you."

"Are you sure?" she asked, worriedly nibbling her bottom lip.

I reached across the car and snagged her wrist, hauling her into my lap so that she was straddling me. "I'm not really sure what I did that made you feel this way. I've been in a fog since Dad died, but I am in no way angry with you, and I sure as fuck don't blame you for his death, baby." I prayed she believed me because I wasn't sure how else to convince her.

"Really?" she asked quietly.

"Really, really," I replied. Layla wrapped her arms around my neck, and I wrapped mine around her waist, holding her to me so that there wasn't any space between us. Alone in the car with the love of my life, I finally let myself go, dropping the wall I had erected in my mind to hold back the bulk of my grief. I sobbed into Layla's neck like a child, mourning the loss of my father. Unlike the rest of my brothers, I had a great relationship with my Dad, and when Zach officially moved in with us, so did he. He wasn't like a lot of the men who were in the organization at the time, who beat their wives and children for the hell of it.

He was a good man and a fantastic father. And now that he was gone, I felt like I hadn't appreciated him as much as I could have. Now, it was too late. Layla let me pour all of my grief into her as she softly tried to soothe me. When I had cried myself out of tears, I held her, slowly becoming more aware of her tight body pressed against mine. The human body reacts to grief in all sorts of odd ways sometimes, and now that I had cried myself dry, I was ready to try something new. Layla's hips rotated slightly as she felt me hardening beneath her.

She leaned back to study my face. "Really?" she asked.

My eyes were glued to her lips, inches from mine. "Really," I whispered, licking my lips and moving her against me harder. "I need you, Hellcat. I need you more than I need oxygen."

"Then take me," Layla whispered. "Take whatever you want from me. It all belongs to you, anyway."

I groaned as I tangled my hand in her hair and crushed her lips to mine, nipping at them to open, too impatient to wait. I kissed her hungrily, my desire spiking as she submitted to my demands. Being with Layla was always like waging a small battle. She wasn't so great about being submissive, making us earn every inch we got towards dominating her. So, the fact that she was fully submitting to me now burned like a fire in my veins.

I pulled her shirt and bra over her head and then reached between us to remove my belt. I wasn't wasting a single second of this opportunity. I put her arms behind her back and used my belt to secure her wrists together. This position caused her breasts to jut forward, and I took my time devouring them. Sucking each nipple into a taut peak and enjoying Layla's moans, I used my grip on her hips to keep her sliding steadily against my rock-hard cock. I teased us both until we were nearly feral with need. Only then did I flip her onto her stomach on the seat in front of me and yank her leggings over her ass.

I pulled my dick out and stroked it as I knelt behind her in the cramped space, shifting her so that she was lying across the seat at an angle to give me more room to move. I teased the tip of my dick through her folds to get it wet before I pressed the head through her entrance. I grabbed her hips in my hands and yanked her back as I thrust forward, my balls bouncing against her clit as I bottomed out in one hard move.

Layla cried out, the sound a mix of pain and pleasure at the sudden stretching of her pussy. I didn't pause to give her time to adjust because, at that moment, I felt like my very salvation would be found between her thighs. That all I needed to make the last hours tolerable was Layla. I pulled out until I almost slipped from her warmth completely and then surged forward again. I kept this steady pace, and my desperation for her had my balls tightening after a few more pumps. I gritted my teeth, pausing deep within her to regain my control so that I could make this last a little longer.

Layla rolled her hips impatiently, and I growled as her movements stimulated my cock and made it twitch. "Hold fucking still, Hellcat," I ordered, slapping her ass. She froze obediently, and I ran my hand down her back and then back up her arms to where her wrists were bound at the small of her back. "Good girl," I praised. I gripped the belt with one hand and snaked the other around her to toy with her clit. Feeling back in control, I used my grip on the belt to hold her in place as I resumed pounding into her.

This time, I wasn't stopping until I came, and I'd make sure that Layla came with me.

"Let me hear you, Layla. Let everyone within hearing range hear how well fucked you are." My obedient girl did as she was told and moaned loudly as I hammered her pussy relentlessly.

"Such a good girl. Such a good fucking girl," I moaned, my control quickly unraveling.

I increased the pressure of my fingers on her clit, sliding it between two of them and pinching slightly. "Come with me, Layla, fuck, you better come with me, or I swear on everything holy I will edge you to insanity before I let you leave this car," I growled.

Her cries intensified as my hips snapped against her ass. I felt my cock start to swell just as Layla let out a hoarse scream as she came on my cock. The pulsing of her pussy was the final push I needed, and I wouldn't have been able to hold back if I tried. A deep growl vibrated my chest as I came deep inside of her. I collapsed on top of her, still buried to the hilt, and it wasn't until she started to fidget beneath me that I remembered her hands were still tightly bound.

Groaning with disappointment as my softening cock slipped from its home, I shifted to the side and loosened the belt. Layla sighed in relief but didn't move from her position except to let her arms fall to her sides. I moved to the inside of the seat behind Layla and rolled her into my arms. The grief I felt was still a raw wound inside of me, but I also felt a sense of peace. The anger-tinged fog had lifted, leaving clarity in its wake.

"Would you be willing to put a bounty on Matteo and Sal's heads for their live capture?" I asked.

"Absolutely," Layla responded. "You didn't have to ask. Whatever you want, whatever you need, it's yours. Their lives are yours, and if we have to pay someone to deliver them to our doorstep, then so be it."

"Thank you," I replied. I let my eyes fall shut, the exhaustion from the day hitting me like a brick wall. If we spent the night in the car, so be it.

Eventually, we ended up dressing and dragging our asses into the house. When we got inside, she kissed me and searched for Zach to check on him. I immediately went to my office and sent out the bounty memo to every contact in the city that I had. When I spoke to Bear, he promised that they would start the hunt for them, and if a Triple MC brought them in, they wouldn't accept payment. After getting that squared away, I went to bed.

I was back up before everyone and was now sipping my first cup of coffee and going over funeral arrangements. I knew Layla would be more than happy to help me with them, but I felt it was something that I had to do on my own. I'd get Zach's input when he woke up, which wouldn't be long if I knew him. He suffered from insomnia when he was in turmoil, and this could undoubtedly pass as turmoil.

As if my thoughts had summoned him, my adopted brother stepped into my office without knocking minutes later.

"Hey, bro," I greeted as he fell into the seat on the other side of my desk.

"Hey," he replied sleepily. He leaned forward and stole my coffee, gulping it down until the mug was empty. I glared at him but didn't comment. He must have needed it more than me, and I could always run back to the kitchen to get another if I became desperate.

"I'm glad you're here. I'm on the funeral home's website trying to get an idea of what we want for Dad." I turned my monitor so he could see the screen, and he dragged the chair closer to the desk to look.

"I like that shiny black coffin with the gold accents," he replied.

I nodded. I had been eyeing the same one before he came in.

Zach sagged back in his seat. "Fuck man, I can't believe he's gone." His voice broke at the end, and I watched him struggle to maintain his composure.

"Neither can I," I replied. "Somehow, it doesn't seem real, but my memories of what they did to him remind me it is. Layla approved a bounty for their capture, so I'm hoping we'll have them tied up downstairs by the end of the day."

"Good. I need to spill blood, preferably theirs, but if I'm being honest, I'm not feeling terribly picky. Anyone would do at this point," Zach replied.

"Maybe you should go work on one of your cars until we have them," I suggested. That was usually a good outlet for him when he felt recklessly stabby.

Zach shook his head. "I don't think it's wise. With how much anger I have inside me now, I'd end up causing more damage than I would repair."

I searched my brain for anyone Zach could pummel but came up empty. Besides the usual suspects, we don't have anyone on the line right now—not even men within our organization who needed to be taught a lesson. I would suggest that he go hunting for someone, but I didn't want him out on the streets in this mood. The last thing we needed was for him to show up on Anton's doorstep.

"Want to spar?" I asked. Beating the shit out of each other could be mutually beneficial.

"You mean it?" he asked, his green eyes brightening with excitement.

"Yeah, let's go," I replied, locking my computer. We didn't bother going back upstairs to change into workout clothes. Jeans would have to do; besides, in a real-world scenario, the other bad guys didn't exactly give you the opportunity for a wardrobe change. We emptied our pockets onto the table and taped our hands before hitting the mat and circling each other slowly.

Zach and I have done this dance more times than I can count since childhood. Back in the day, it was more often than not out of anger, but as we grew up, we learned to handle our disagreements more diplomatically. Now, we use it for times like these or to keep ourselves sharp. Because we knew each other so well, we knew each other's tells, which made it trickier to land blows on each other.

I knew that if I remained patient, Zach would lose his and throw the first blow impulsively, likely leaving himself open somehow. Seconds later, he lunged forward, his fist swinging wide. Sometimes, you couldn't be afraid to take a punch if it meant getting a more solid hit to your opponent, so I stepped into the pocket he left open and absorbed the blow to the side of my head as I planted my fist into his stomach, causing him to stumble back a step. I darted out of range before he could land another punch and resumed circling him.

"Every fucking time," Zach growled.

I couldn't help smirking at him. "You would think you'd have learned by now," I replied.

"Whatever, asshole. Now I'm focused, and that will be the last punch you get," he replied.

"We'll see," I laughed. It wasn't the last punch I landed, but he got more in than I did. When we were finally winded, we collapsed onto the mat to bleed a little as we caught our breath.

"Thanks, man," Zach said, holding up his fist.

I bumped the side of my fist against his. "You're welcome," I replied. "Feel better now?"

"For now, I do," he replied. "Might have to find someone else to go a couple of rounds with if we don't find them today."

"I'm sure Sean or Drew would be willing to help," I replied.

"Not Tyler?" Zach laughed, knowing that while Tyler appreciated the art, he didn't enjoy partaking in brawls. He was too "sophisticated" for them.

"I mean, if you really play up the dead dad thing to him, he might," I suggested with a chuckle. Honestly, if you couldn't laugh about your tragedies, what could you do?

Zach sat up quickly and looked down at me. "I might just do that," he said excitedly. "For years, I've had to hear about how his fighting skills are superior to mine but that he wouldn't lower himself to prove it. Maybe now we can settle it once and for all."

"If you get him to agree, let me know," I replied. "That's a showdown that I wouldn't want to miss."

"I'm gonna go start pestering him now. I'll have him worn down by lunch," he replied as he jumped up, grabbed his stuff, and ran from the gym.

I chuckled as I scraped myself off the mat, grabbed my stuff, and headed to the kitchen for another cup of coffee. Cordy was in the kitchen when I arrived. She took in my haphazard appearance without commenting on it.

"Sit. I'm making eggs and bacon," she ordered.

"I have to figure out the rest of the funeral arrangements, Cordy," I said apologetically as I poured my coffee.

"Nonsense. That can wait. It will still be there after you eat a good breakfast," I opened my mouth to argue more, and she turned to face me with her eyebrow raised and a spatula in her hand. Nope, I'd rather go ten more rounds with Zach than go one with Cordy.

"Eggs and bacon sounds wonderful," I replied as I sat at the table.

"Good boy," she replied. "I know you have a lot going on, and your appetite might not be at its best, but keeping up your strength is important. We don't want you to fall ill."

"I know, Cordy," I replied, "I wasn't planning on skipping breakfast altogether."

"Good," she replied with a nod. We sat silently while she cooked breakfast and then took the seat across from me when she brought my plate over. She waited until I had scooped a bite of eggs into my mouth to say whatever was on her mind.

"I want you to know that your father was a dear friend, and I am so sorry for your and Zach's loss. I hope you get those bastard traitors, and if you need help making them bleed, I keep my kitchen knives extremely sharp."

I nearly spit my eggs out at her declaration. "I'll keep that in mind," I replied.

"I'd appreciate that," she responded.

Layla shuffled into the kitchen at that moment, and Cordy jumped up to start her breakfast, ending any further conversation about her dipping her toes into torture.

"Morning, baby," I greeted.

"Nughhgh," Layla groaned. More mornings than not, she was a zombie before coffee.

I pulled her into my lap, and the first thing she did was snatch my coffee off the table and start drinking it in large gulps. Maybe I'd be able to drink my third cup.

"Morning," she finally said when she placed the nearly empty cup back on the table.

"Did you sleep well?" I asked.

"I did. How long have you and Zach been up?"

"I've been up for a while. Zach got up a little bit ago," I replied. I stabbed a piece of egg with my fork and held it to her lips. Layla accepted the bite and chewed slowly. "I started working on the funeral arrangements for Dad and almost have them finished. When I do, I'll run to the funeral home."

"Take people with you," Layla ordered. I tried not to bristle at her insinuation that I couldn't take care of myself. "Nobody leaves this house without backup until this is settled. That goes for you, too, Cordy." Jennifer and Autumn came into the kitchen as she spoke. "Same for you two. Everyone is on lockdown until Anton is dead. Nobody leaves the house without guards and my permission first."

Jennifer nodded as she slid into the seat across from us. Autumn wrapped her arms around Layla in a tight hug before sitting beside her mother. "We have nowhere that we need to go," Jennifer replied.

"I have to do the grocery shopping," Cordy argued.

"Have the groceries delivered," Layla replied firmly.

"When we do that, they always send subpar produce. I'd rather pick it out myself," Cordy replied, not backing down.

"Dammit, Cordy. I'd rather have crappy fruits and veggies than see you in a fucking body bag or watch your torture. This isn't up for discussion. I will not lose another member of this family."

"Fine," Cordy sighed as she started waving her spatula in Layla's direction, "but when your mangos arrive almost rotten, I want you to remember this."

Layla left my lap and went around the island to wrap Cordy in a hug. "You're more important to me than mangos, so thank you." She released Cordy, poured herself a cup of coffee, and then brought the carafe to the table to refill my coffee with a wink.

I snatched it off the table before anyone else could and drank half of it. Cordy set plates for everyone else, and I watched Autumn and Jennifer as we ate. They were getting along well. Any initial hesitation Autumn had was gone, and the kid couldn't stop smiling at her mother. It warmed my heart to see, and I was happy we could make this happen for her. When I finished eating, I left the girls to finish their breakfast and returned to my office to finalize the funeral arrangements and make an appointment with the funeral home to review them.

When I finished that, I tried to get some work done and go over the pile of potential recruits Sean had chosen. They were all solid choices, and with the lockdown, we would need more guards at the house to cover everyone who lived here if they were to venture off the property. I also arranged to have two guards assigned to Jennifer. Autumn had her guards in place, but I didn't want their attention split with Jennifer. Autumn was their priority, and I wanted it to stay that way.

I was still contacting our new recruits to call them in for interviews when Zach burst into my office. "Guess who just came through the gates with a special delivery?"

"Who?" I asked, shoving the files into my desk and locking it. I followed Zach to the front door, which he swung, letting in the roar of motorcycles.

"Bear," Zach grinned. "And from the looks of it, he has Matteo with him."

This news perked me up. I hadn't expected to see Matteo or Sal in my interrogation room this quickly.

Bear stopped at the foot of the front steps and tipped the hooded person he had draped over his lap off. Matteo fell to the ground with a thud and a groan. Bear grinned up at us triumphantly as he cut his engine. "Mind if I stick around to watch?" he asked.

I looked around expectantly. "Monika isn't with you?"

"Nah, she's back at HQ with my boys. She's safe," he replied as he dismounted and dragged Matteo up the steps.

"How did you get him so fast?" Zach asked as we led him inside and to the basement.

"Matteo has a gambling problem, and his bookie owed us a debt. Called us as soon as he walked into his establishment to do business," Bear replied.

As soon as we entered the room, Zach lowered the chains so that we could string Matteo up. I quickly texted our group chat to let everyone know that we had him in the basement and would be starting. I had no interest in waiting for the others to get down here. I wanted to make him bleed. I wasn't usually hands-on when we had someone in here. Today, I'd be making an exception. As soon as Matteo was secured, I removed the hood from his head and stared into the eyes of one of my father's murderers.

"Hello, Matteo," I said, "you really should have left the city while you had the chance."

"You don't scare me, boy," he snapped, "and you can't force me to spill my guts."

"I'm not here to scare you, and I don't give a shit what information you think you have," I replied as I selected a knife from the wall.

"You're here to pay for what you did to our father," Zach said as he wheeled over a car battery setup similar to what they had used on Dad. That must have been what he'd spent this morning doing. "You'll be begging for our forgiveness by the time we're through with you," he told Matteo confidently.

I stood before Matteo and considered where to make my first cuts. I wanted him to suffer, but as I dragged the blade down Matteo's torso, I had to fight the urge to cut deep enough so that I could disembowel him. We'd get there, but not yet. He didn't deserve a quick death, and he wouldn't get one.

"You know I've never witnessed a torture like this before," Bear commented as he carried a chair to the middle of the room and sat. "We don't usually bother with torture and simply shoot the bastards."

"Well, if you ever want to use our room, you're more than welcome to," Zach replied. He pulled out his knife and began to drag the blade across Matteo's skin in intricate patterns as the door opened, and Layla, Sean, Tyler, and Drew entered the room.

As soon as Matteo saw Layla, he almost seemed to relax. "Layla, call off your dogs," he demanded.

Layla's eyebrows rose at the demand. "And why would I do that?" she laughed.

"Because I'm your uncle. I helped raise you!" Matteo yelled. "Is this the thanks I get?"

"You don't deserve my thanks," Layla replied. "You've been working against my father and I all this time, and you think I will thank you? Far from it. When I learned of your betrayal, you would always end up here. The only difference is that instead of doing the torture myself, that privilege falls to Colt and Zach."

"It was just business!" Matteo yelled.

Layla shrugged and pulled herself onto a table to watch the show.

Emboldened by her presence, I walked behind Matteo and began slicing his back, enjoying his shouts of pain while Zach worked over his front.

"What if I tell you where you can find Sal?" Matteo screamed.

"If you could tell us that," Zach replied, "maybe we won't drag out your death."

"He has a safe house in Ducktown! He went there to lay low after we killed Carmine." He quickly rattled off an address, and Tyler nodded at me to tell me he would dispatch a team to check it out. If he were there, they'd bring him in.

"Thank you for your cooperation," I told Matteo as Zach and I set our knives down. I stepped back as Zach rolled the battery cart that he made over.

"Wait! You said if I gave Sal up, you'd kill me quickly," Matteo said in a panic. He didn't want the electricity, and I couldn't blame him. Then again, neither had my father, and it hadn't stopped him.

"You really need to listen better," Zach replied, shaking his head in disappointment as he jammed the first jumper cable into Matteo's soft belly. "I said maybe. Maybe we won't drag your death out. I never agreed to kill you quickly, and as it so happens, maybe turned to a yes."

"You little fucking shit bastard," Matteo roared. His face turned so red that it looked like it would pop off or explode at any second.

"I mean... you killed my father," Zach replied as he attached the other cable to his arm. Blood dripped from the wounds the cables caused. "Did you really think I would let you off easy for that? You really gotta use your brain more."

"He wasn't even your fucking father," Matteo argued. His eyes raised to meet mine, and surprisingly, I saw an emotion I hadn't expected. Sympathy. Or maybe regret. For a brief moment, I felt like he was trying to apologize, and then he screamed in agony as Zach grabbed a knife and stabbed him in the thigh.

"He may not have been my biological father, but he raised me and showed me how to be a man," Zach growled. "I didn't need his fucking DNA to claim him as my dad." He left the knife where it was and turned his back to Matteo. We met each other's eyes, and I nodded. He was my brother, and I knew that my father had considered him as much his son as I was. Surprisingly, I had never once been jealous. Dad always treated us exactly the same and never let one of us feel inferior to the other.

Zach nodded back, flashed me his lopsided grin, and flipped the switch on the battery.

Matteo's screams were like music to my ears, replacing the memories of my father's.