“Asshole,” Chaos muttered, heading back up the stairs.
“So, fucker say anything yet?” I asked between bites. God, I was starving. I couldn’t remember when food tasted this damn good.
“No,” all the men said, continuing with what they were doing. Even Grimm grunted no. Well, I think it meant no.
Hellhound turned to face me, “How’s Remi?”
“Sleeping.”
“She needed to heal Reaper. You should have waited,” Healer chastised, closing his book.
“I did wait.”
“Whatever,” Healer said, getting to his feet. “I’m gonna go check on Kitty. If you need me for anything, text.”
None of us said anything more as Healer left the basement. We all knew that Healer took an oath to do no harm. He took that oath seriously, so none of us pushed him when it came to this shit. He would only return to either help the man heal or confirm the time of death.
Putting the last of the sandwich in my mouth, I clapped my hands, eager to get some answers. Grimm stood and walked over, handing me a pair of pliers.
“Time to talk, fucker,” I grinned.
An hour later, I was covered in blood, and the fucker still hadn’t said a damn word. Not even when I put his balls in clamps and squeezed until they turned purple. Nor when I sliced a skull into his chest or when I cut off one of his ears. The fucker was immovable.
“Okay, enough games. Grimm?”
The room got quiet when Grimm stood. Placing his phone gently down on the table, he stretched his arms over his head and yawned. Walking over to a wall cabinet, he opened it up and grabbed a wooden device. It looked like two wood pieces with long metal teeth between them, with a hand crank to open and close it.
“What the fuck is that!” the fucker shouted.
“That my soon-to-be-nubby friend is a knee splitter. Used frequently during the Spanish Inquisition, the knee splitter was naturally used to split knees open. Or in your case, rip it from your body,” Bullseye said, walking down the stairs, a file in his hand and blood on his shirt.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” I asked, halting everyone. “You are supposed to be lying low.”
“Yeah, well, Savage can get the fuck over himself. I ain’t hiding anymore. You needed to see this. We got trouble coming,” he said, handing me a file. Opening it, I scanned the papers. Flipping through them, I stopped and growled. There before me was a picture of Remi, tied to a bed naked and beaten along with images of other girls of varying ages.
I was going to be sick. Closing the file, I took a deep breath and counted to ten before I spoke. “The kid?”
“Two of them. Handed them over to the local pigs. Chief Conners asked, and I gave him the same old nonsense. When you can, he said to stop by the station, or he can meet you at Patty’s Diner. Said to call when you have time.”
“Did you look into this?” I asked, holding up the file.
“Yeah. It’s legit.”
“Fuck!” I shouted, rounding on the fucker chained to the chair. “Who the fuck do you work for? I ain’t fucking around anymore.”
“And here I thought we were having tea.” The fucker smiled, and I lost it. Before anyone could stop me, I pulled my gun out of my cut and shot the fucker in the head.
“Reaper!”
“What the fuck, man!”
“Boss, he didn’t talk!”
“Reaper,” Bullseye said cautiously. “You need to calm down man. We will get this fucker. We will, but you need to keep a clear head. Where is Remi?”
When I didn’t answer, Player spoke, “She’s upstairs sleeping. Shamrock and Snake are guarding the door. What’s going on?”
Handing the file to Smoke, I said, “I sent Bullseye on a snatch and grab. He’s been back for a few weeks now, lying low. Apparently, the fucker he killed tonight was part of this ring. He had pictures of Remi and other girls. Smoke, maybe you can find something in here. Burn the pictures of Remi, send the rest to Reynolds. He can add them to the database.”