Wolf (Devil's Fury MC 9), Harley Wylde [intellectual books to read TXT] 📗

you want extra security,” Frost said. “Wouldn’t hurt. I don’t see the fucker getting inside the compound, but I won’t completely discount it ever happening either.”

He wasn’t wrong. The compound wasn’t perfect. If someone really wanted in, they could find a way. Over the years, we’d made it more difficult. However, difficult didn’t translate into impossible.

A knock sounded at the door and Garrick popped his head inside. “Got the laptop you needed. Outlaw said it’s not password protected.”

Demon took it from him and booted it up. He plugged in the flash drive and pulled up the contents. The scream that blasted through the speakers made my hair stand on end. Demon’s jaw tightened as he turned the computer so we could all see the screen, then he took a seat next to me.

“Holy shit,” Doolittle mumbled.

The man on camera wore a mask covering the top part of his face. I couldn’t see a tattoo or scar anywhere that might help identify him. Watching him rape and torture the doc broke something inside me. He’d filmed every second. Including her death.

He leaned in close, his eyes large on the screen. And that’s when we finally got a small break. He had one green eye and one blue.

“Heterochromia,” I said.

Demon nodded and turned up the volume since the asshole had lowered his voice, probably trying to disguise it.

“I’m coming for sweet little Glory next.” He backed up and held the knife up, licking the doc’s blood from the blade. “I bet she tastes even sweeter.”

He licked the blood off his lips and grinned. “Is her cunt nice and tight? I bet you boys have ridden her ass good and hard. Does she scream as pretty as the doc did? I can’t wait to find out.”

He reached up and right before he ended the video, I caught a glimpse of something.

“Wait! Freeze that.” Demon paused the video, and I dragged the laptop closer. I backed it up a few clicks and zoomed in. “Think we can clear this image up? That looks like a tattoo.”

“Let me see it,” Frost asked.

I slid the laptop over to him. After a few minutes, he turned it back around and we had a clear shot of the ink on the guy’s arm. I leaned in closer, and the breath stalled in my lungs. This was a fucking nightmare.

“He’s dead. It’s not possible,” I said. “His corpse is rotting in pieces on our property.”

“Twister,” Steel said, his eyes going hard. “No fucking way he came back from the dead. The ink says RIP under it. Anyone know about his family? Does he maybe have a brother? Can’t see his face too clear, but the overall build and hair color are the same?”

Demon slammed his fist onto the table. “Fuck!”

“Is that a yes to the brother?” I asked.

“Yeah. Twister had a twin brother, but we’d heard he was long dead. POW or some shit who never came home,” Demon said. “When Twister came here, he’d had no one. Grizzly brought him into the club as a Prospect to get him off the streets. Found out later, he had two siblings. A twin brother who’d gone missing overseas and an older sister.”

“Why the hell are we just hearing about this?” Steel asked.

“Because Twister was dead and it didn’t matter,” Demon said. “The sister isn’t a problem. She worked as a secretary in Atlanta until she passed away two years ago. Has a daughter who writes romances. I’ve kept tabs on her. Alora Danvers is the name she goes by. Twenty years old and lives outside Blackwood Falls out in the county.”

“Got an address?” I asked. “Should we send someone to check on her?”

“Got a better idea,” Demon said. He pulled out his phone and put the call on speaker. When it connected, I knew exactly who he’d called. “Beau, you ready to earn your club colors and name?”

“Name it and it’s done,” he said.

I eyed Demon, wondering if he had the authority to offer the kid his colors. He might be the Sergeant-at-Arms, but he knew damn well we’d have to take that shit to the table for a vote. And Badger or Slash should have been the one to offer it to Beau. I hoped this didn’t blow up in our faces.

“Need you to head down the highway a bit. I’ll send you an address. Find Alora Danvers and make sure she’s safe. In fact, I want you to bring her here. Take her to your place if you need to. Her uncle is the one after Glory.” Demon paused and cleared his throat. “The doc is dead. Fucker raped and murdered her on camera and sent us the video.”

“Shit,” Beau mumbled. “I’m on it. Get me the address and I can leave right now.”

“Thanks, kid.” Demon disconnected the call and sent off a text. As he leaned back in his chair, he looked tired. Hell, we all were feeling a bit worn down from this shit. “It would be nice if we could just have some peace and quiet around here.”

“Think we’d have to go completely legit for that to happen,” I said.

“Yeah, and that ain’t happening.” He sighed. “All right. We at least know who took the doc. As much as I don’t want to see that footage again, we need to look for clues as to where he took her. I want this guy dead. I don’t give a shit if he comes here and dies slowly, or if it’s a quick bullet to the brain. Just make sure he isn’t breathing.”

“I have to ask,” Blades said, speaking up for the first time. “Any other relatives of brothers we need to be worried about? Dead or alive. I know Badger, Dragon, and Slash all claimed Grizzly’s daughters. Did Twister have more family? You sure the brother and sister are it? And some niece from the sister?”

Demon pinched the bridge of his nose. “Meredith.”

“She’s related to him?” Blades asked.

“His daughter. But she never knew him.”

“Merry wouldn’t hurt