Filed to story: The LORDS Series Free PDF by Shantel Tessier
“That was the only kindness I’m going to show tonight,” I say, sitting down on the coffee table to face him. I know she was part of it. The camera didn’t lie. I was able to access the cameras inside of the club from my home computer. I saw everything right up until the fire started. She lured my wife to the bathroom where Bethany was. The how and why doesn’t matter. It happened, and now we’re moving on. Now all I care about is finding Lake. Every second she’s missing is a second that I could lose her forever.
“Where the fuck is my wife?” I ask him, reaching up and yanking the tape off his lips.
“Please…” He looks at the dead blonde behind me. “I didn’t do anything,” he cries.
“What did you do?” I ask, knowing he had a part in it.
“Bethany came to me. Said I needed to get out of the club. That something was going to happen. I didn’t know.” He sobs, rocking back and forth, his arms tied behind his back.
“Who was she?” I ask, referring to the dead girl behind me.
“She came with Bethany. That’s all I know.” He hangs his head. “I swear I didn’t know anything would happen to Laikyn.”
I punch him in the face just for mentioning her name, pushing him down onto his side in the cushions. “In the parking lot, you told me that you saw Lake in the cage. Why didn’t you help her out of the club if you knew something was going to happen?”
“Because I didn’t know what was going to happen,” he growls through bloody teeth. “I already told you that.”
Standing, I go over to his kitchen and start opening cabinets. I find what I want and go back to the couch. He gets up to run, but Ryat grabs his arm and forces him to his knees in the middle of the living room.
“No!” he shouts before I begin to wrap the cling wrap around his face, making sure to cover it all from his forehead to his chin. Ryat releases him and pushes him to the floor, and we both watch him flop around like a fish out of water, trying to breathe with his hands duct-taped behind his back along with his ankles.
The clear plastic wrap sticks to his tear-streaked and bloody face. His chest heaves and he bucks wildly. When his movements start to slow, I kneel next to him and push my fingers into it, breaking a small piece around his lips so he can suck in a breath.
“Who and where did they take my wife?” I ask calmly, but inside I’m on fire. A burning sensation that I can’t put out. I hate feeling helpless, and I hate it even more that I have no clue what is happening to my little darling. Is she being tortured? Raped? Is she dead? She’s innocent. So whatever is happening to her is because of me. They are making her pay because I love her.
Until she’s back in my arms, I’m going to burn every person that helped take her from me.
“I … don’t know.” He sobs, rolling onto his stomach. The cling wrap so tight on his face it’s got his eyes closed, and cheeks squished, smearing the blood on his skin.
Standing, I pull out the flask and pour it over his legs.
He kicks around his taped legs. “What are you doing?” he rushes out, unable to see.
I take the lighter out of my pocket and bend down, lighting the gasoline I just sprinkled on his legs, setting him on fire.
His screams fill the room and I stand back, watching him try and roll around as the flames lick up over his skin. I didn’t drown him in it. The plan is to make it hurt, fucking painful. Fire is unpredictable, but one thing about it is that it can be quick. And that would be too easy for him. He deserves to suffer like I know Lake is right now.
The smell of his burning flesh fills the room, and I smile as I watch him try to put it out but it’s not going to happen.
Ever so slowly, the fire crawls up his legs and catches his T-shirt. I walk over to the girl and light her on fire as well. I’m not going to go through the trouble of removing them from her apartment and burying them behind the Cathedral. I’m going to leave a trail that says I’m looking for my wife, and anyone who stands in my way will burn.
This is my statement to anyone who had a hand in taking my wife. I’m coming for you.
We fall into Ryat’s car, and we watch people start to run out of the apartment complex as flames start to crawl over the building. I’m not sorry for what I’m about to do. For all the bodies I’m going to leave in my wake.
Why? Because the villain doesn’t give two shits about the world. All he cares about is the one thing that calms his demons, and that person for me is Lake. If I don’t have her, they take control, and all they know is to destroy.
Ryat holds up a cell phone and I take it from him. It belonged to Beau. I pull up his messages and start to read over them. It doesn’t take me long to find what I need.
FIFTY-THREE
TYSON
My wife has been missing for five days, and I’m no closer to finding her. I thought I was losing my mind, but I’ve officially gone manic. Lack of sleep will do that to you.
I pace the room, my bloody hands down by my side. Some mine, mixed with others. “Where is my wife?” My voice is as rough as I look. I can’t even remember the last time I showered or ate something.
“I … I don’t know.”
I swing, my fisted hand connecting with the guy’s jaw, making him cry out like a little bitch. I’ve always preferred to fight with my hands rather than a gun or a knife. Hand to hand is so much more personal. It sends a message that I’m not afraid to fuck myself up, and I’ll take anyone down with me.
“And you?” I walk over to the other man hanging from the ceiling. His arms tied above his head as he still rocks back and forth from the last fist to his stomach. “Still don’t know where she’s at, I suppose?”
His head hangs back, his body pulled tight. He’s naked and covered in blood. I took a knife to his leg a few hours ago just because. He’ll hang here like the piece of rotting meat he is until I get what I want or decide to kill him.
“She’s … dead,” he grinds out.
I refuse to believe that. It wouldn’t make sense for whoever has her to kill her. I’d give up my life for her. That has to be their plan, right? A trade? Me for her? Otherwise, why would they take her from me? “You better hope not.”
I punch him in the throat and his body jerks in the chains while he coughs and sputters. “Beau sent you a text the night of the fire. Told you that Lake was at Blackout. Why?”
It’s ironic that the two guys I was chasing down the night of the fire are the same two who were at Blackout. I don’t have concrete evidence that they had help in kidnapping my wife, but why the fuck would they care that my wife was up at the club? I don’t believe in coincidences.
Neither of them says anything, and I pop my split knuckles while Ryat sits over in the corner of the room, straddling a chair backwards with his arm lying across the top. He’s helped me the last few days. After I set Beau and his bitch on fire, we’ve watched these two for two days. It was all I could take. They weren’t leading me anywhere and I was tired of waiting.
Lowering my hand, I twirl my bloody wedding ring, my body so tense I’m about to snap like a rubber band.
“Did you contact Bethany and tell her that Lake was there?” I demand, trying to put the pieces together. None of it makes sense. Beau messaged them that my wife was at the club, but their phones had nothing to Bethany. How did she know Lake was there?
These two have to be the ones who took Alex and Jenks out. They both said they were attacked with men wearing masks. Lords’ masks. My security guards are Lords, but they’re juniors this year. They’ve worked for me since I opened the club. I don’t see why they’d want to double cross me now unless someone got to them. But then again, I didn’t think that Beau would do that either and look what he did. They’re all working for someone, but who?
I look over at Ryat, and he shakes his head at my silent question. Nothing on their cell phones other than the message from Beau. So they have to have more stashed somewhere. I’ll go into the house of Lords after I finish them off and tear their rooms up until I find what I want.
Marco and Steve hang side by side, silently whimpering like little bitches. If you’re going to piss off someone that you know will chase you down and torture you, you better be ready to get your ass fucking beat to death and take it like a man.
“Who the fuck took my wife?” I scream, my voice bouncing off the concrete walls and floor.
They stay silent as they swing from their chains. I begin to punch the one I’m standing in front of over and over. His body rocks back and forth from each blow. My body is vibrating with rage. I’m pretty sure it’s the only thing keeping me going at this point. I’m afraid if I lie down, I’m going to pass out for days, and I can’t afford to lose that much time.
I have to keep going. I have to keep demanding answers.
My bloody and sweaty fist slides across his chest, and I lose my balance. I fall to the floor and slowly get to my shaking legs.
I hear the sound of the chair scraping across the floor of Ryat’s bunker as he gets to his feet. Since I no longer have the basement at Blackout, Ryat is letting me use the bunker that he has in the middle of the woods behind his house. I needed somewhere to bring them for the time being. I wanted answers, but it’s getting me nowhere.
Looking over, I see Ryat now standing there, both of their cell phones in his hands. Turning, I make my way up the stairs, and he turns off the lights, shutting them in behind us. We walk silently through the dark woods to his house. The lights from it filter through the large floor-to-ceiling windows showcasing the backyard.
Once I get inside, I go straight upstairs and undress. When I step into the shower, my body shakes with madness. Placing my bloody hands on the wall, I bow my head. I want to fucking explode.
“Where are you, little darling?” I ask desperately as my throat closes up on me.
All I ask is for her to please be alive. I can handle anything else. I just need to get her back and we’ll figure the rest out together.
Does she think I’ve given up on her? That I don’t fucking care where she is or what is happening? Probably not because I haven’t made her believe otherwise. The last time I was with her was different. I felt it, and I know she did too, but did I tell her? No. I just expected her to know.
She lies underneath me in our bed while I hover over her. My tongue licks my lips, wanting another taste of what my mouth just did between her legs. Fuck, she’s so addicting, I want to devour her over and over again.