Biker's Claim The Broken Angel is Mine (Cora and Jake) novel Chapter 138

<Chapter 138

Chapter 138

Demetri POV

+25 Points

Hacker arrived with the names of the men who trashed the front. We had someone bring in the four we had already identified, and it was time to have a little chat with them. We still have to talk to the other men we captured and hopefully get some answers before Wednesday’s delivery vans arrive in the area again. Hacker has the run schedule and will keep checking for any last-minute changes.

Tuesday, my men will go on a run, breaking up into two groups, and camp in the bushes, not far from where we believe the shooters position themselves according to what reports we have found. They are looking forward to getting out there and getting their teeth deeper into this investigation. They love it when they are out in the field, and this investigation means more to each of them, and that was partly because of Cora, not just because she’s my daughter. Still, they said she was a really nice chick, which made this investigation, on a personal level, something that had never happened before. They agree with me; we feel that some part of this was linked to Cora, but we couldn’t pinpoint when it started to include her. The first shooter reports happened a good month before Cora moved here, and she said that was the day she saved Gunner. They couldn’t have known she was moving here, so was it originally against the bike clubs? There were too many variables that didn’t match up, and that was what was annoying my men and me. We like clean, defined lines, and there are none, not yet, other than we believe we know that the shooters are from that delivery business and linked to the gun club. The real reason and targets are not properly defined. I think there is more to this than shooting out tyres.

The cells were as I remembered. I had asked Oddball if it was all right for me to bring one of my men down with us. Screw was my best man for getting information out of people.

“A good place down here, I feel I am home.” Screw spoke softly next to me as we walked down the hallway to one of the cells.

“Thought you would like it down here, want a room here?” I joked back, because he would sleep down here.

The first cell we entered had two men in it, tied to chairs.

Both looked like the lads had used them as punching bags; they had dried blood on their faces and on their shirts, and one had a swollen eye, and the other had a split lip.

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One had pissed himself; the puddle was under his chair, and we could smell the fear coming from him, and he was sniffing, and I dislike sniffling men.

“Perfect.” Screw said with glee.

“Which part?” I chuckled, knowing he was at home in this room; that’s why he was called Screw, because he loved to twist and turn someone’s fear into something ugly, yet beautiful.

“The one on the left is already done for, yet the one on the right was trying not to be touched by it, and is failing; they are each other’s downfall. Love it, not needed in this room; they are already cracked.” He chuckled, a low chuckle that ran down my spine when he gave that sound.

Oddball started with the questions, but they were not very helpful. One sobbed like a child, while the other cursed and swore, but didn’t give answers. Hacker asked some questions, and then Gunner asked some questions, but none were successful. Gunner did give the man a few punches and got a smell; thinks he

<Chapter 138

might have dirtied his pants.

It had been an hour, and still getting nowhere, when Screw opened his mouth; I wasn’t ready for it.

“May I?” Screw asked ever so politely; it was not a sound one hears from Screw often.

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“Sure.” Oddball moved back and stood between Gunner and me. Hacker was by the door, ready to leave. He was not good with torture; the moment one started to scream out, Hacker would leave. Why he came down in the first place was beyond me. When I was told Hacker did not have the stomach for it, I was shocked to see him here with us.

Screw took out a thin, sharp blade and checked that it was still sharp, of course, it was, he ensured it was, before he put it in the scabbard. He thinks it’s part of his showmanship to let the men see what he had and bring the fear to the surface. It works nearly every time.

“What are you going to do with that?” The stronger of the two asked, as Screw walked closer and ran the tip lightly over his chest. His sharp knife cut his skin like a hot knife in butter, and the screams the man gave had the other man piss his pants again. The depth of the cut was about the same as a paper cut, yet it stings and hurts like hell and manages to draw blood. It’s not that easy to cut someone only a few layers deep. Right where all the nerve endings are, it’s a skill I haven’t mastered, not that I want to. Seen enough of it, not to want to do it, but when the military asked you to send in men and do it, you have little choice, and most of the time they don’t give you all the information before you have accepted a job, they sneaky like that, give you enough to lure you in, and then add the rest later, we have learned who do that, and avoid certain departments when they ask for our help. I am not often on this end of it very often, more in the control room now, but I have been on enough of them to know what my men are capable of, and Screw was one of the best.

The man was trying to be tough; now he had stopped screaming

Another hour had gone by, and I would say the man was losing a lot of blood now. Believe it or not, my stomach reminded me it was lunchtime, and that thought made me wonder if Scones was up and had gone to the kitchen.

“Is that the best you can do?” He spat at Screw, who gave him a smile that would freeze hell over.

“No, my friend, I was checking how deep your skin layers go. Lintend to skin you alive? It’s quite interesting really, seeing a man with no skin. You would be surprised how important skin is, how it keeps the rest of your body intact.”

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“No, please, don’t skin him alive, I don’t want to see.” Screw turned to the other man. They had their chairs facing each other so they could see what was happening to the other, yet in another room, it would be back-to-back.

“Should I skin you first, then?” i didn’t think this man had any pee left, but apparently he does, because he was dribbling on the floor again.

I left about then: I, too, didn’t want to watch Screw Skin Someone, if it came to that. I left and headed to the kitchens to see if Scones was up yet. I found her in the dining hall, two of my men standing guard, and caught the end of the conversation and the ladies leaving the hall.

“Scones?” She turned and ran to me, throwing herself at me.

“They are so lazy.” She pouted.

<Chapter 133

+25 Points

“Are the rest coming up? Lunch is ready.” Cora asked, slid her hands in her pockets, and then gasped.

“Oh Dad, I forgot. Look at this?” Cora came over to me, unwrapping something that had been covered in the paper.

“What is it?”

“The glass outside was not all from here, Look at this motive; do you recognise it?” I took it from Cora and looked, took out my phone and googled it, got to love that feature on a phone; it came up with a suggestion straight away. It was exactly when had thought it was; I just needed to confirm, as it could be part of something else, but according to the internet, it wasn’t.

“Need to show this to Oddball. I will be back shortly and will let them know lunch is ready, too.”

I returned to the cell, and Screw had stopped working on the men. It seemed they got some information and stopped for now. Both men looked exhausted.

“Oddball, lunch.”

“Yes, I am hungry. Let’s go. Later, gentlemen, we shall resume this after lunch.”

We all left the cell.

“Oddball, look at this.” I showed him the broken piece of glass.

“Where did you get this?”

“Cora picked it up in the car park, said that most of the glass out there was not from the clubhouse, and brought this in for further investigation.”

“You know where this comes from, don’t you?” Oddball asked in shock.

“Yes,” I replied. Screw looked at it, raised his eyebrow, and Gunner swore.

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