Chapter 11

CHAPTER 11

“ B ack door,” Bulldog ordered to Bear. The Road Captain nodded and ran off into the snow. “How many?”

“One,” Demo said as he pounded up the stairs. He was not caring about a stealth entrance. Their headlights would have given them away.

The front door was already ajar. Demo shouldered his way inside. Not knowing where Paige was in the room, Demo kept the muzzle of his gun lowered and his finger off of the trigger.

A man in a disheveled suit stood in the living room. It took Demo a moment to see around the days-old beard and the stains for him to place Clifton Barrington. The once pristine, clean cut man from Keys’ pictures was not looking his best.

Paige stood on the far side of the living room. She had tears streaked down her cheeks and red-rimmed eyes, but otherwise looked unharmed. Demo could not afford to spare her a longer look.

“Who the fuck are you?” Clifton demanded haughtily. As he shifted his body, Demo saw the small snub nosed revolver in his right hand.

Demo raised his gun, gripping it steadily with both hands. “Drop the weapon!” A sharp pain entered his shoulder at the quick movement, but Demo ignored it.

Clifton went to step forward. His arm twisted as if he was debating on raising it, but then spotted Bulldog behind Demo and thought better of it. Movement from the other side of the living room showed Bear entering with his Glock raised. Demo’s club brother moved to stand directly in front of Paige.

Demo could not let himself outwardly show his relief. Not while her stepbrother was still armed.

“Who the fuck are you?” Clifton repeated.

“The man telling you to drop your weapon or I will fire mine.” Demo might have been trained with a firearm, same as the others, but unlike his fellow club brothers, Demo had never fired his before.

He would do so now without hesitation if it meant keeping Paige safe.

Clifton glanced between Demo and Bear, whose large body completely hid Paige from sight. Slowly, he squatted down and tossed the revolver onto the beige carpeting of Paige’s living room. It hit with a muffled clunk . Once he stood straight again, Clifton backed away from the weapon with his hands raised.

“Sit,” Demo ordered shortly.

Clifton parked his ass on the couch.

Bulldog stepped to the side of Demo to pick up the snubby. As soon as Bulldog had possession of the weapon, Demo flipped the safety on his M17. He tucked it into his jeans at the small of his back as he rushed across the living room to get to Paige.

Bear stepped out of the way.

The fear Demo had been trying his damndest to suppress rose to the forefront as Paige came into view. She was shaking, her beautiful face coated in rivers of tears.

Demo wrapped her up in his arms, not caring in the slightest that the movement caused fire to burn through his shoulder and up the side of his neck. He’d burn for real for this woman and her two kids.

He clutched her tightly to his front, one arm around her shoulders and upper back with the other arm wrapped around her head. His fingers and face were buried in her thick brunette locks. Her scent of lavender, lemon, and peppermint permeated his nose…and he just breathed her in.

“Longest fucking ride of my life,” he murmured into her hair.

She had her arms locked tightly around his back. Her entire body shook as she cried into his chest. It took him a moment to realize she was asking about her boys.

Demo raised his head enough to look over his shoulder at Bear and Bulldog. “The boys. Upstairs, second door on the left. Mikey was trying to move a chair in front of the door.”

Bear nodded once and then left the room. Demo could hear his big boots pounding up the stairs. Mikey and Nelly Bean knew both Bear and Bulldog from playing with their kids.

Just then Steel and Lucky came bursting into the house with their guns drawn. As soon as they saw the living room, they immediately lowered and holstered their weapons.

“Upstairs,” Demo told Lucky. They knew Bear, but they would be more comfortable with their uncle.

Lucky went running up the stairs after Bear.

Steel turned his icy gaze down on Clifton as he stepped up beside Bulldog. The man flinched and looked away.

Demo carefully lifted Paige’s head up. She was a mess with red blotches on her cheeks, puffy eyes, tears, and snot. It made his heart hurt to see her so wrecked, yet it did nothing to diminish her beauty or strength in his eyes.

“Are you hurt?” he asked gently. He should have asked that first, but his priority had been getting to her.

She shook her head. “He just scared me. I thought it was you at the door.”

Demo scowled. “I told you, I will always text you first. You should never answer your door without knowing who’s on the other side.”

Anger replaced her fear in an instant. “You think I don’t know that?” she snapped. “I made a mistake, Demo. You don’t need to treat me like I’m a child?—”

He stopped her with a gentle kiss. Raising his head, Demo started to use his sleeves to gently wipe her face. “I know. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. I’ve just never been so goddamn scared in my life.”

She snorted. “You used to face down bombs for a living.”

Demo gripped her face between his hands, forcing her to look up at him. “Never been so goddamn scared in my life,” he repeated.

Paige turned her cheek into his right palm. “How did you know?”

“Mikey called me on your phone,” he told her. “Said there was a ‘scary man’ in your house.”

Paige glared at Clifton sitting docilely on the couch with Bulldog and Steel standing over him. “More like a fucking coward!” she sneered.

She made to step forward, but Demo kept her back. They still hadn’t checked Clifton for any more weapons he could have hidden on his person.

Finishing wiping her face, Demo moved her curls away from her eyes. “Why don’t you go check on the boys?” he asked her gently.

“Lucky’s with them,” she argued. “I want to watch you beat the crap out of Clifton the Coward.”

Clifton blanched at her words and looked ready to bolt. A quick and terrified look between Bulldog and Steel had him changing his mind. He slumped further into the couch cushions.

Demo raised an eyebrow. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Bulldog and Steel exchange a look.

“Oh, please,” Paige pushed her way past Demo. “I might not be in your ‘inner circle’ but I’ve been around you guys enough to know you take security and family very seriously. You’re not going to let him just walk out of here without at least a few broken fingers. Not when he entered my house with a gun.”

Demo had no idea what to even say to her. Did he confirm her words? He wasn’t sure what the others told their women. “Umm…”

Just then Bear came down the stairs holding a bundled up Nelly Bean in his arms. Demo saw the second Paige’s priorities changed from bloodlust to maternal instinct. She rushed across the living room to meet Bear in the hallway. Demo couldn’t help the sigh of relief that came out of his mouth as his shoulders slumped. He had no idea what he would have said to Paige if Bear hadn’t come down the stairs with her son.

Looking up, he caught Steel’s eye. Shifting uncomfortably, feeling like a little boy being caught cheating on a test by his teacher, Demo gave an awkward shrug. It wasn’t like he’d told Paige anything. He couldn’t help that she was so smart and observant.

As Paige took Nelly Bean from Bear’s big arms, Lucky came down with Mikey on his shoulders. The five-year-old was holding onto his uncle’s head tightly with his little hands but sitting up tall like a king. He even had his chest puffed out. Lucky had a good grip on the boy’s ankles over his shoulders.

“Hi, Mommy!” he shouted loudly. “I did good, right? I called Demo to save you from the scary man!”

Paige reached up to touch his back from his added height on Lucky’s shoulders. “Baby, you did really good. You were so smart to call Demo.”

“Uncle Lucky said I was brave too!”

Paige wasn’t the only adult who chuckled at the boy’s not-so-subtle attempt for additional praise. “You were extremely brave,” she told her son with true admiration. “I am very proud of you.”

The little boy beamed from atop his uncle’s shoulders. “Can I have a cookie?”

Demo had gone grocery shopping with Paige and the boys a couple of days ago. Paige had scowled at him for throwing in cookies, snacks, and some of the more expensive produce into the cart. He claimed he wasn’t buying them for her but for him when he was over at her house. He just happened to let the boys know that the food was in the kitchen and they were welcome to it any time their mom said it was okay. Paige was not the sort of mom to allow her pride to stand between her boys and a good meal.

“Yes, baby,” Paige said with a small laugh. “I think you’ve earned it.”

“Nelly Bean too!” Mikey shouted down to her as Lucky carried him into the kitchen. Both Mikey and Lucky had to duck down so he could squeeze under the door frame, making the little boy laugh. “He was really good, Mama! He didn’t cry or anything!”

“I think Nelly Bean fell back asleep,” Paige said as she followed Lucky through the kitchen door while holding her youngest. “Why don’t you save him a cookie for tomorrow after lunch?”

Demo heard Mikey’s voice but not his words. He tuned out the conversation from the kitchen as he rounded on Clifton.

The man was ten years his senior but looked twenty. There was a grayish pallor to his skin and Demo had to wonder when the last time the man showered. In all the pictures Demo had seen of the man, he was always polished and well kept. His white dress shirt had food stains down his front, his tie was loose and not professionally knotted, and his pants had drying wet marks around his ankles and calves, making Demo think he’d walked through high snow at some point in his loafers and suit.

Demo didn’t see a jacket or trench coat anywhere and wondered if the man left it in his cage.

“So how many fingers do you want to break?” Bulldog asked Demo. His voice was low so it didn’t carry into the kitchen, but there was no masking the amusement in it. Good, at least his SAA wasn’t pissed about Paige’s comments.

“Who says I’m just going to break them?” Demo retorted.

“The fuck?!” Clifton shouted. He tried to sit up, to look important and powerful. But it was all a facade. “Do you have any idea who I am?”

“I know exactly who you are,” Demo answered darkly, “and I don’t give a fuck.” He looked between his club President and SAA. “Do you have anything we can tie him up with? I don’t want to do this here.”

Which was code for, I want him in the cellar .

“Yeah, Angel should have something in her cage—” Bulldog started but then a pair of flex cuffs flew over their heads to land on Clifton’s lap.

Clifton let out a shout as if someone had just dropped a grenade on him.

Bulldog let out a growl as menacing as his namesake was capable of. “Scar, you son of a bitch!” He rounded to face the former enforcer, who was standing behind them as if he’d been there all along.

On Scar’s chest was a vest worthy of Batman. The club used to joke it was Scar’s Bat Vest. It used to be hidden under Scar’s club cut, but now he wore it openly. The vest consisted of many pockets that held things, like flex cuffs, in addition to the number of knives, daggers, and throwing stars in sheaths all along it.

“Outside, now!” Bulldog shouted, pointing an accusing finger at the scarred man. If Scar were anyone else, Demo was fairly certain Bulldog would have scruffed him to force him outside. Thankfully Scar followed Bulldog without argument—or vanishing into thin air like a fricken ninja to avoid whatever confrontation was about to take place between the two friends.

Demo wasn’t sure if he could even classify Scar and Bulldog as friends . The word seemed too casual and familial. He knew the rumors around the club were that Bulldog and Scar had served together prior to the club. That made the most sense since Bulldog had chosen Scar to be his enforcer before Scar had left the club. But Angel had served under Bulldog’s command and she claimed that she’d never seen Scar before she joined the club. Therefore, the history between Bulldog and Scar remained a mystery.

Unfortunately, the two seemed more at odds than any other pair of friends Demo had ever seen before. Demo knew that Bulldog trusted Scar and Scar had given up his place in the club for Bulldog. But Demo had to wonder what sort of conversation was going to happen outside in Paige’s driveway. Besides a one-sided one, that is…

Clifton tried to scramble away but Steel threw him to the floor and held him there with a knee to his back. With ease, Steel cuffed the man’s hands behind his back.

Demo helped Steel raise Clifton up onto his knees. “What was your plan, tough guy? To scare a woman and her two little boys into giving you money she doesn’t have?”

“The bitch turned us over to the FTC! If it wasn’t for her, my dad wouldn’t have gotten arrested?—”

Demo threw a punch at the man’s chin to shut him up. Clifton’s head snapped back with a sickening crunch. “That was for calling Paige a bitch,” Demo sneered. “I would choose your words more carefully in the future,” he warned. “Though, where you’re going, it’s not going to matter much.”

Paige took Demo up on his offer to stay the night. She was honestly grateful for it, not sure she could have gone to sleep otherwise. Demo told her he would sleep on the couch downstairs, but Paige took his hand and led up up the stairs to her bedroom. He took what was usually her side of the bed, the one closest to the door, while Paige slept on what used to be Richard’s side. The boys slept between them.

Steel, Bear, and Lucky said they were taking Clifton to the sheriff’s station. Paige couldn’t help but wonder if there were going to be any pit stops between her home and dropping him off to the police. She hadn’t been kidding when she’d told Demo she’d picked up on how the club handled some things. She hadn’t seen anything herself, but she’d heard some of the ol’ ladies’ vague words, and more importantly, seen some of their pointed looks between each other. As if to warn one of them to not say anything incriminating or too openly. The men of the club were not the sort to let something like breaking into her house with a gun slide.

She wondered if she was going to need to go down to the station in the morning to make a statement, but Demo told her that it wasn’t pressing.

As she fell asleep with her boys cuddled between her and Demo, Paige’s hatred for her house increased. She couldn’t wait until she was financially stable enough to move out of it. She hated everything about it—including her bed. She hated that she couldn’t even afford to replace the mattress Richard had once slept on with her.

Maybe someday, Demo and she would go mattress shopping for a bed of their own. That was a nice dream to hold onto.

After he spent the entire next day with her and the boys, Paige was sorry to see him go. She tried to contain her sadness as she walked him to the front door.

“I wish I could stay,” he whispered against her lips. “You have no idea how much, but I need to get back. Steel’s called a meeting for the officers. I’m already running late.”

Paige nodded solemnly. “Is it childish of me to say that I understand but I don’t like it?”

Demo chuckled. “Not at all.”

“You know…” Paige started and then bit her lip.

Demo used his left hand to raise her chin up. “I know a lot of things, beautiful, but I don’t have the ability to read your mind. Just tell me.”

Eased by his attempt at humor, Paige went on. “I was just thinking that maybe you’d like to come back here after your meeting.”

Demo was silent for a moment. “It might be late.”

“I can give you a spare key.”

“It would mean remaining here all night.”

“I was hoping it would.”

He studied her face carefully. “Are you sure? As much as I want to say ‘yes’, I want to make sure you’re really okay with that.”

“I am.” When he said nothing, Paige shifted uncomfortably. “Maybe I hope I am. I want you to spend the night, Demo. I just…” She shook her head. “Never mind. It was a stupid idea. Forget I asked.”

“No.” He used his left hand to move her face back towards him when she tried to move it away. “I won’t forget, because I love that you asked.” He leaned down and kissed her. “But my answer is also ‘no’. I respect you too much to push you too soon, Paige. Last night was an exception, I get that. As much as I want to spend tonight too, I won’t until you can ask me with confidence.” He touched his lips to hers again. “Because, I’ll be frank with you, I won’t be able to leave your bed once I’m in it for real—as in, without two little boys between us. So make sure that’s the move you’re ready for us and I’ll jump into it so fast I might break that one too.”

She chuckled. “You better not.”

“I make no promises.” He kissed her forehead. “I really do have to go.”

Paige nodded sadly. “Thank you.” At his raised eyebrow, she explained, “For seeing I wasn’t ready, even though it’s what we both want.”

“Your safety and wellbeing will always come first, Paige,” he vowed. After one final kiss, Demo left her house.

Paige quickly threw the deadbolt and lock. Walking back to her bedroom, she peeked in on the boys first. Both were sound asleep. Paige was a bit jealous of that ability to sleep so soundlessly after what had happened the night before.

Deciding to get some work done on her finances, Paige headed to her room. She spent the next few hours going through her accounts. Over the last week, Demo had been helping her get everything organized. He knew about the insurance checks and how Paige had been putting the money aside to help pay off her stepfamily. Though Demo was confident that she did not have to pay back Richard’s debt to them, Paige was not willing to risk touching that money until the restraining order was finalized. Demo advised that she pay current debts first and worry about future debts later. So her goal for tonight was to figure out which debts were most immediate and what to pay off first with the money she’d been putting aside.

They had also discussed her declaring bankruptcy. That was a scary thought in and of itself, but mostly because of the stigma surrounding such an endeavor. Paige needed to do more research on it and speak with a bankruptcy lawyer to figure out if that was a better option for her. Demo mentioned that he didn’t know enough about it to advise her with specifics. However, he did know that it was generally better to file for divorce first and then declare bankruptcy.

Paige hadn’t heard anything from Steel about what his PI found regarding Richard’s whereabouts. Next time she saw him, hopefully he would have answers. If not, she would ask.

Ding!

Paige glanced at her phone and was instantly disappointed when she saw it wasn’t Demo sending her a message. It was a notification from the foot fetish site.

Since going out with Demo, she’d only done a handful of requests to help make ends meet and none since they’d started sleeping together. It hadn’t felt right. Not like she was cheating, per se, but close to it. It felt dishonest if anything. She’d told him about her debts and the financials for the clinic…but she hadn’t told him about this.

Paige was about to swipe left to ignore the notification, but her finger paused when she saw the message. Her eyes nearly bugged out of her head. The request was for two thousand dollars!

She’d never had a request that high before. She was honestly surprised no one else had grabbed it up by now. This wasn’t the first time some of the requests had sat there longer than she would have expected. But two thousand dollars? That should have been grabbed up faster than a winning lottery ticket.

More curious than anything, Paige opened the app. As tempting as that dangled carrot was, she had no intention of accepting the request.

Private Request: Place donuts (big or small) on your toes. Smear them in toppings of your choice. Then eat them. I want to hear you moan. Be naked.

Paige gagged. Eating donuts off of her toes? No, thank you. As much as two thousand dollars would help her, she had her limits. Plus, she didn’t have any donuts in the house and she couldn’t leave the boys to go get them…

Or did she? Demo had brought them donuts the day before for breakfast. Were there any left over? He always bought too much, saying he wasn’t sure how much the boys would eat. Paige knew it was bullshit, but she didn’t call him out on his generosity. He was being sweet while also respecting her wish for him not to swoop in and save the day with money and objects. In all honesty, he’d found the one loophole she couldn’t refuse: feeding her boys.

There potentially was a partial box of donuts in her fridge downstairs.

Paige put her phone down, shaking her head. No, this was crazy. She was not going to accept a private request to eat donuts off her toes. Even for two thousand dollars.

Her eyes landed on the Past Due notice for her clinic. Business had picked up so much that Abby had been coming in on a part-time basis to help her out. But she still was past due on her rent. Her landlord could pull her lease at any time and then where would she be?

She was still seventeen hundred dollars short on her notice. The request would cover that. Even with the fees taken out by the site, she would have some leftover to replenish some of her dwindling supplies.

Paige stood up. Leaving her phone where it was, she decided just to check her fridge. If she had donuts left and if the request was still there when she got back, then maybe she would answer it.

One last video.

“Where is he?” Demo demanded as soon as the Chapel’s doors closed.

“In the cellar,” Bulldog answered him. “Carlos made it look like he made bail and left town.”

Demo raised an eyebrow. There was a time when Carlos wanted nothing to do with the club’s grayer side of their lifestyle. “I hope that didn’t cause an issue between you and him.”

Bulldog shook his head. “The man threatened Paige with a loaded gun with her boys upstairs. Trust me, no persuasion was necessary.” Bulldog turned to Steel. “He did specifically ask that he knows no more about where Barrington is, though, or his fate.”

Steel inclined his head in agreement. “Carlos doesn’t know about the cellar and the latter is club business. Barrington hurt and threatened Paige and her boys. She’s one of us and will likely become an ol’ lady?—”

“More than likely,” Demo interjected. Looking around the table of his fellow officers, he declared, “She’s mine. She might not wear my cut yet, but she’s mine.”

Steel’s hard expression did not change, but Demo saw the approval in the older man’s eyes. “I take any threat against an ol’ lady and club kids very seriously. Demo has the right to choose Barrington’s fate.”

Demo didn’t have to think about that answer. “Because of him and his father, Paige has been drowning in debt for months. So much so, she hasn’t been putting the heat on fully in her house because she couldn’t afford the electric bill. I plan to drown him just as slowly.”

“Don’t use the pond,” Lucky warned him. He was sitting on Demo’s left. “Our kids ice skate on it during the winter and swim in it during the summer. Breaking the ice on it could weaken it even if it freezes back over.”

“I hadn’t considered the pond,” Demo said honestly. “I plan on having the prospects bring a bathtub down to the cellar and running a line below. Strap him down with weights. Some days I’ll bring it up high enough to make him think he’s going to drown while others I’ll let him be.”

“Diabolical,” Ghost said with a vicious smile. He offered Demo a fist bump. “Love the symbolism too.”

Demo was feeling a stroke of genius for it, even if he didn’t say so himself. “Eventually, I just won’t turn the water back off and he’ll drown.”

“It’ll be more complicated than that,” Bear said from across the table. “Human skin starts to breakdown from prolonged submersion in water. He’ll get sores and fungal infections. The pressure of the constant water on him will also decrease circulation. Depending on how long you plan on dragging that out, he’ll likely suffocate without even being fully submerged.”

Demo shrugged. “End result is the same as far as I’m concerned.”

Bear didn’t argue with any of Demo’s points. “Just be prepared for the smell.”

“Barrington’s fate has been decided then.” Steel pulled everyone’s attention back to him. “But Merrick’s hasn’t been yet. Given the evidence collected, I plan to call for a vote.”

“He’s seen our faces,” Bulldog reminded Steel. There was a slight warning in his voice. “He knows who we are, even if he doesn’t know where he is.”

“I will not execute an innocent man,” Steel argued back. “If we believe he’s been framed then we deal with it. I will not risk punishing the wrong man and allow the actual culprit to plan another attack on us unawares.”

Ghost leaned forward. “It’s been two weeks. There’s been no evidence of a second attack or anything else happening to indicate that he was working with another.”

“We’ve condemned others with less evidence,” Bulldog pointed out. “But,” he added pointedly, “Cage is still holding strong that Merrick is not smart enough to have created that bomb.”

Steel nodded slowly. “Barrington’s fate is Demo’s, but I won’t make the call about Merrick’s on my own. Not with the club at odds about his innocence. We’ll meet with the others tomorrow.” Steel turned to Bulldog. “I’m giving you until then. Any means necessary. Either get a confession or we figure something else out. Clearly, we are all too undecided amongst ourselves to take a vote.”

Bulldog nodded solemnly. “I’ll head down once we’re done here.” He looked across the table at Demo. “You coming with me?”

Demo had never been down to the cellar before. There’d been no point—and, frankly, the place creeped him out. But to exact his revenge on Barrington for his treatment of Paige and daring to enter her house with a loaded weapon?

“Fuck yeah,” he seethed without hesitation. It was time to get his hands dirty.

There were donuts in her fridge. Paige begrudgingly carried the half-filled large box back to her room.

Crap. She was not looking forward to this. But it wasn’t like the request would still be there. Someone else would have grabbed it up for two thousand dollars.

Paige looked at her phone and felt her eyebrows shoot up. The request was still there. Fuck.

Feeling sick to her stomach, Paige hit the Accept button. It’s not cheating… It’s not cheating… If she did this—and it was no longer an if because she’d already accepted the request—then this was it. Her last video ever.

Getting her camera setup out of her closet, Paige looked at the request once more. She had up to fifteen minutes to start the video. She needed the toppings it requested. Christ, she hadn’t even checked her kitchen for ‘toppings’. She had no idea what she had or what ‘toppings’ went on a donut other than sprinkles.

Down in her kitchen, she found a jar of jelly, some peanut butter, a bottle of syrup, and a can of frosting. The frosting was expired, but she had no intention of actually eating the donuts off of her toes. Gag . Since her face was not required to be on camera, she could bring her foot off camera, take the donut off of her toe with her fingers , and then just make chewing and moaning sounds that the request asked for.

Ugh. This was probably the most disgusting video she’d ever done. It was a good thing it was going to be her last. She was done with this. Utterly and completely done.

Demo could never know. If he ever did find out, she didn’t know what she would do. Die of humiliation? But he would understand. Right? He was a reasonable person. He commended her for the sacrifices she made for her boys. He would understand that she did what she needed to do to survive.

God, what if Demo had a foot fetish?

Arms full of the requested toppings, Paige paused partway up the stairs to her bedroom. Demo had never indicated he had a foot fetish. After these past months and the number of requests she’d done, Paige was pretty sure she had the opposite of a foot fetish. If Demo ever tried to touch her feet, she might just vomit.

God, she hoped she would never find out if that was true.

Knowing time was running out, Paige hurried to her bedroom. She quickly stripped out of her pants, leaving her panties on. The request had said naked but there was no way in hell she was abiding by that.

Realizing just how much of a mess she was going to be making, Paige hurried to the boys’ bathroom. She removed the clear shower curtain as quickly as she could while also trying not to make noise that would wake Mikey or Nelly Bean.

Once back in her room, she laid out the curtain to protect her carpet. If she ever did get a chance to sell this ridiculous house, she did not want to have to spend money on replacing the carpeting because of jelly stains.

Sitting back, Paige checked the angle of the camera to ensure nothing personal was in the shot. Then she placed a donut over her big toe like the world’s largest toe ring. The cooked dough was too big and squished between her toes.

Paige hoped to God she was able to fake the necessary eating and moaning sounds. If she didn’t do a good enough job convincing the payer, he could refuse that he was satisfied. The moment she’d hit Accept, the money went into an escrow account. If he—and Paige was using ‘he’ as a generic gender—refused to pay, she could appeal. Then someone from the fetish site would review the video and choose if the money would go to her or back to the payer. The result from the appeal could mean either she or he would have their account suspended or removed from the site.

Not that Paige would care about her account being removed as this was her last video, but she did want to get paid.

Taking a deep breath to calm herself, Paige pressed the button to start the live video. She picked up the squeeze bottle of grape jelly and poured it all over the donut, her toes, and her midfoot.

The stench of stale, acrid air wafted up from the cellar upon Bulldog pulling the hidden latch. Demo stared down the rickety, wood stairs, but not with trepidation as he thought he would. In the past, when other officers had gone below, he’d stayed above. One reason had been Jumper, so he would not be the only officer not going below with the others. He could even argue the lack of space and his presence not being required. But the truth of the matter was that the cellar always wigged Demo out.

Bulldog clasp Demo on the shoulder. “Ready to pop your cherry?”

Demo snorted. “Other than the smell, it’s not as daunting as I thought it would be.”

“Yeah, it can get pretty rank down here. We send the prospects down to wash it, but I think the smell of fear has seeped into the walls. Kinda leaves a permanent pungent stench, you know.” Bulldog reached into his pocket and pulled out a small jar. “Menthol rub, if it gets too bad. Just dab some under your nose.”

Demo accepted the jar. “Is it usually this quiet?”

Bulldog started down the stairs first. Demo followed, pulling the hatch closed behind them. Even though it was late, they couldn’t risk someone walking into the clubhouse that should not know the cellar existed. “Nah. Cowards are just hoping if we can’t hear them then we can’t see them either.”

The dim lighting below only added to the eerie atmosphere. Demo knew that four sets of chains had been drilled into the ceiling by Cage when he’d added the soundproofing. A single drain in the middle of the concrete floor allowed for easy cleanup. Since the cellar was below ground and not part of the above HVAC system, it could get extremely hot or cold depending on the time of year. A small space heater was in the room, but it didn’t really break the brisk chill of the room.

Chains rattled from the two hanging on the far right. Neither clothed, Billy Merrick and Clifton Barrington hung by their wrists. Even in the low lighting, Demo could make out the bluish tint to the men’s lips and fingertips. Demo was sure Bear was monitoring the room to ensure the occupants didn’t die of hypothermia. But being cold only added to their torment.

Nathan Moore was not hanging from the ceiling. The child rapist was currently nailed to a wooden chair, slumped over. If it wasn’t for the puffs of visible air coming from him, Demo would have thought the man was dead. He recalled seeing Moore the day Ivy had dropped him off at the clubhouse as a ‘gift’ from Scar. Nearly seven months of constant, daily torture had turned the man into a skeleton. Flesh hung off of his emaciated form. He had no fingernails, toenails, or teeth from when Angel had removed them. His long hair was matted, greasy, and falling out in clumps. Demo couldn’t see from where he stood, but he was pretty sure Angel had removed the man’s eyelashes too. Either that or was planning on it soon.

All three men faced the wall where torture devices had been hung up neatly. Demo thought that was a nice touch. To always remind them of what was coming.

Demo walked over to where Barrington hung. The man was barely tall enough to be able to stand with his toes touching the floor. Blood coated his arms from where the manacles were digging into his wrists from trying to relieve his legs and letting his body weight hang from his wrists. Under his nose and mouth were still splattered with blood from when Demo had socked him at Paige’s house.

“What the fuck did you think you were going to accomplish by going to Paige’s house?” Demo asked him, getting up in the man’s face. “Do you think she has millions just hidden away in her house?”

The man’s teeth rattled as he answered, “Wanted to make her pay…”

“Your failures are not her fault,” Demo snapped. “You made a deadly mistake by going to her house. If you’d gone there only to talk to her, I may have just broken some fingers and let you on your way. But you brought a gun into her home. You scared her little boy—your nephew! That I cannot and will not let go.”

Demo gripped Barrington’s chin and forced him to look over in the corner of the room where Moore sat, naked and nailed to a wooden chair. “Your only saving grace is that you did not harm Paige or her boys—or you would be nailed to a chair right next to him. I won’t make your death last quite so long.”

Tears started streaming down the man’s face. A new stench rose up as Paige’s stepbrother lost control of his bladder and bowels. Demo stepped away to not get anything on his boots. He might need that menthol after all.

Bulldog’s expression was a mixture of disgust and amusement. “Made a man shit and piss himself. Not bad for your first time.”

Demo chuckled. “Man’s too much of a coward. A butterfly would probably have had the same effect on him. Not sure it really counts.”

“Take the win,” Bulldog offered. He went over to the wall of devices. “Besides, it’ll take a day or two for the prospects to get the bathtub down here. He can enjoy the scenery while he waits.” Bulldog picked up a pair of brass knuckles. “Merrick, here, is a different story. His time has come to an end. Whether he tells me what I want to know or not.” Turning over his shoulder so he was speaking directly at Merrick, Bulldog added, “Telling me what I want to know only makes the end more painless.”

Merrick, dirty and cold, tried to hock a loogie at Bulldog but was too dehydrated. Demo was pretty sure he said something along the lines of “fucking moron”.

Demo leaned up against the table that was against the wall of torture devices. There were no chairs in the cellar—except for the one Moore occupied. He crossed his arms over his chest. “Got anything to take off fingers?”

Bulldog handed him a pair of pruning shears.

Demo accepted them, but didn’t approach Barrington. Being in the cellar reminded Demo that the wall of torture devices hadn’t been set up for Bulldog, but for Scar. The line of daggers and throwing stars were all the former enforcer’s. Demo carefully turned the shears over in his hands. “Can I ask you something?”

Bulldog threw a punch against Merrick’s jaw. The man’s head snapped back. “Of course.” Bulldog used the fist with the brass knuckles to deliver a blow to the man’s right kidney.

“What’s up with you and Scar right now? You always seem angry at him.”

Bulldog took his right hand to cover Merrick’s mouth and nose, depriving the man of air. He held on tightly. Despite the man’s struggles beneath his grip, Bulldog’s voice was even. “I’m not angry with him. I’m concerned for him.”

The concept seemed so weird to Demo. “But…it’s Scar . He’ll be fine.”

“And you think he was ‘fine’ when he got that scar across his face? How about the ones on his neck, arms, torso, and the rest of him?”

Demo shifted uncomfortably. He’d never known Scar without those markings, but he could admit that Bulldog had a point. It wasn’t as if Scar had been born with that scar on his face. “I guess he just gives off this air of confidence that it makes him seem infallible.” Demo looked down at his left hand with its missing fingers. “I of all people should have been more sympathetic. I mean, none of us walked away completely unscathed.”

“Some more than others,” Bulldog added. As Merrick’s struggles started to lessen as he suffocated, Bulldog waited another few seconds before letting the man’s face go. Merrick sagged from his chains, unable to hold up his own weight as he gasped for breath. “Why do you ask?” Bulldog turned his back on Merrick to look at Demo.

Demo shrugged. “The few times he’s been back, you always seem pissed at him.”

Bulldog waited a heartbeat before saying, “I didn’t ask him to go rogue. I didn’t want him to. I brought him to the club so he would have a sense of family, a home , after what he’d gone through. For him to just throw it away?” Bulldog shook his head. “And for me ? I’ll never forgive myself for that.”

“You didn’t ask him to,” Demo reminded him softly, remembering the Church meeting when Scar had turned over his cut to Steel. “I know both you and Steel feel guilty about him leaving, but it was his choice.”

“I know that,” Bulldog admitted. “But he was supposed to find peace here. Not going off hunting child predators and human traffickers.”

“Is that what he’s been doing?” Demo asked. “I mean, I knew he was going after certain people,” he tipped his chin towards Moore, “but I wasn’t sure if he was still doing it. He just randomly pops up places, so I figured he was hanging around town.”

“From what I can gather, yeah. He and Ivy are working on a list.”

Demo hesitated before asking, “Look, you can tell me to go fuck off, but I’ve got to know: does he talk to you? I mean, he can talk, right? I always figured he could and stayed silent for the creep factor.”

Bulldog raised an eyebrow. “The creep factor?”

Demo shrugged, slightly apologetic, but didn’t say anything. Bulldog couldn’t be blind to how some of the club were freaked out by Scar’s silence.

Bulldog turned back towards Merrick. Without a word to Demo, he started on the suspected bomber like he was a living punching bag. Bulldog even circled around him, delivering heavy blows to the man’s back.

Merrick gagged, grunted, and heaved, but nothing came up. Demo doubted there was anything in the man’s stomach to come up.

When Bulldog took a breather, Demo threw him a towel from the basket on the table next to him for Bulldog to wipe himself with. Bulldog caught the cloth with ease.

“I think the rest of you take for granted how easily you walked away from your tours. Even Jumper with his torments…” Bulldog shook his head. “I’m not even sure he would understand. Scar wasn’t just injured while out on patrol. He was captured for weeks. Tortured by the Taliban and watched as his teammates were slaughtered in front of him. Those scars you see on his neck?” Bulldog pointed up at the manacles around Merrick’s and Barrington’s bloody wrists. “I wonder if any of you have even pieced together how he got them.”

Demo’s eyes went to the prisoners’ wrists. Where blood seeped out from them trying to relieve just a little bit of pressure off of their legs. He swallowed sharply, finally understanding Bulldog’s meaning. The marks on Scar’s throat… They were put there by something tight around his neck.

“I didn’t know he was captured,” Demo said softly.

“For weeks,” Bulldog repeated.

Demo looked down at the shears in his hands. “That sucks.” Which was probably the understatement of the century. He wasn’t sure what else to say at the revelation.

“Scar’s silence isn’t a ‘creep factor’ or something he does to give him an air of mystery,” Bulldog admonished. He took the now soiled towel and threw it on the table next to Demo. “I wanted him to find peace here with the club. Instead, I sent him down an even darker path. You asked if I was angry with him? I’m not. I’m terrified for him. There’s so little of my friend that walked out of those Afghani caves that I’m utterly terrified that soon I’ll lose him entirely—and I know that there’s nothing I’ll be able to do to bring him back again.”

The two men were silent for so long that Moore regained consciousness for a minute before passing out again.

Finally, Demo said, “I don’t think I ever realized… I don’t think any of us ever did. We took Scar for granted without seeing his torment. He was always just… there .” Looking up at Bulldog, Demo vowed, “I’ll do better. We all will. I’ll talk to the others. The next time one of us sees Scar, we’ll do more to encourage him to stay.”

Slowly, Bulldog nodded his head. “I appreciate it, but I fear it won’t be enough. Scar has it in his head that he’s better off away from us but I don’t know why.”

“Has Ivy said anything?” Demo wasn’t sure what Ivy and Scar’s relationship was, though he was fairly certain that it was more of a tenuous partnership than anything else. He had a hard time imagining it being physical, with how anti-touch Scar was.

Bulldog shrugged. “I think she knows less than I do.”

“That’s not good.”

“No, it’s not.”

“I meant what I said,” Demo told him. “If I see Scar again, I’ll try to encourage him to stay. I know you don’t think it’ll do much, but maybe if he hears it from more than just you, it’ll finally sink in.”

“Thanks, man.” Bulldog pointed to the shears in Demo’s hand. “Need some help with that?”

Demo looked over to Barrington and stood up off of the table. “Nah. I got it.”