Skirt (Ruthless Kings MC #5) - K.L. Savage Page 0,78
than most, but I wouldn’t say I’m good. I do what I have to for my position to look real, to be real, and for the most part it is. I do things that you won’t like. I have to. I’m close. I need to bust this child ring they’re running, and then I can take these bastards down once and for all. You to cooperate, okay?”
This horrible man is claiming he’s an FBI agent. I find it hard to believe, but whatever fucking universe I have crossed into is most definitely real. I mean, who the hell shoots two people to keep up appearance?
My eyes well with tears, fucking lagoons as Skirt calls it, and I let out a sad laugh that turns into gut-wrenching sobs. I want to go home. I want my son. I want Skirt. Why has my life been so damn difficult and uphill.
“I know, I know. It’s an emotional time. I get that. I need you to get your shit together, okay? I can’t have you losing it on me in front of twenty bikers who will tear me to shreds.”
“I want my son,” I tell him. “Promise me you will find my son, and I’ll do whatever you want me to.”
His hands land on my shoulder, and he stares into my eyes, the sinister side of him gone. “I promise to do everything in my power to bring your son home to you.”
He doesn’t say he’ll find Aidan or bring him back, but his promise to try is better than nothing. “What are the chances of getting him back? How many kids have you saved?”
“Do you want me to lie?”
“Yes.”
“All of them,” he says as he takes a knife from his pocket and cuts the zip-ties from around my wrists.
I rub my wrists to ease the ache. “Don’t lie to me,” I say instead.
He clenches his jaw and tucks the knife back in his pocket. “Bathroom is that way. Get cleaned up. Stay in this room. Borrow one of my shirts. I need to go set up the exchange for you. Once you leave my hands, I can’t promise protection, Dawn. Where you’re going, you’re going to have to hope I get there with my team in time.”
“How. Many. Kids.” I don’t give a damn about me. “No more lies.”
“None. Every trail goes cold because the ring moves around so much.”
It’s a punch in the gut that has me doubling over. The pain is unbearable. The thought of my little boy lost in this world forever is too much to bear. “Thank you,” I force out, even if it comes out more as a whisper, a sound being carried in the wind.
“Don’t thank me. Not yet. I’m sorry for grabbing you when you got here. I fucking hate doing that. I hate being this man,” he says. “I can’t wait till this job is done.”
“Your road name makes sense now.” I point to his cut laying on the bed. “I was wondering why you were called Mercy.”
“In the club? It’s because I don’t show any.”
“Outside of the club, you do.”
“This conversation never happened, Dawn. Please, don’t make me kill you.”
“If my son isn’t found, you might as well,” I say, numb to the core as I make my way to the restroom. His arm blocks the doorway, and when I look up at him, his mustache twitches.
He runs his hands through his graying hair and leans down. “Don’t ever give up on him. He’ll always be out there. I won’t. It’s my job. I care. I will search until it kills me, Dawn. I will do this job, be in this club, until they lead me to whoever they are working for, trading people, human fucking beings, drugs, and weapons. You can’t let this break you because the obsession of not knowing what happened to your son will eat you alive.”
He walks over to the plastic bin he uses as a dresser and pulls out a shirt and a pair of boxier briefs. “I know it isn’t much, but it’s better than what you’re wearing. While you’re here, you’re mine, so you’ll listen to me. Got it?” He holds out the clothing and then sees how much blood I have on my hands and folds them neatly on the bathroom counter.
“Got it,” I say, impressed with how clean the bathroom is. The warehouse is a piece of crap, but his area is clean. The sink is plain, the tile is a bit rotted,