“Who are your friends? The man with his mouth gone?”
“That’s Yeger. Yeger Kushnir.”
Ice stiffened. He recognized the name. They all had flawless memories. They had to. That was how they’d survived the hellhole. Yeger Kushnir was one of the two men who had raped and frightened Rich Marshal’s wife to keep her in line. He was heavily involved in human trafficking, taking the children that weren’t sold at auction to remain in their trafficking ring until the children died. How had Winston connected with the pedophile ring and the men Torpedo Ink was after? Was it some kind of a coincidence? He didn’t believe that for a minute. What the hell was going on?
Yeger spit blood toward Phil and then launched himself at Savage, swinging his fist up, his gun spitting bullets. Savage flung himself to the side, slamming his arm hard against Yeger’s as the weapon came up. Yeger rolled and turned the gun toward Soleil. Savage was on him before he could fire, his punches fierce. Hard. Relentless. Not giving Yeger the chance to get off another shot. Yeger fought, trying to pound Savage in the face with the gun, trying to turn it back on him. Ice could have told him that was a bad idea.
Savage caught the wrist and snapped it back all in one motion. The weapon went flying and Yeger howled. Savage punched him several more times, taking the fight out of him.
“And the other one.”
Ice’s prisoner had been stoically silent. Now he glared at Phil, as if somehow he thought he was going to frighten the man. Phil had eyes only for the violent beating Savage had given to Yeger.
“Basil Alanis.”
Again, Ice remembered the name. He was the other man who had raped and intimidated Rich Marshal’s wife in order to force her to stay with Rich in spite of the fact that the man was molesting her daughters. He was also part of the human trafficking ring that took the children deemed too old for the pedophile ring.
“And the collector. Give me the name of the collector.” Absinthe spoke softly, but Phil continued to stare at Yeger’s bleeding body.
They needed that name above any others. He was the man targeting and murdering families in order to fulfill his orders for young boys or girls.
Yeger tried hard to speak, but his mouth was so fucked up it was impossible. Clearly, he didn’t want Phil to continue. Like Torpedo Ink, Yeger knew they couldn’t afford to keep up with the interrogation. They had found out quite a bit in the three minutes gone by, but a car could be along any minute and they couldn’t afford to be seen.
“I don’t know! I don’t know!” Phil shrieked.
“Shit,” Ice spat. “Time’s up. We can’t stay.” He wanted the connection between Winston and the pedophiles.
“We can’t take them with us to interrogate them,” Absinthe said, regret in his voice. “We’re on bikes. And they know where Soleil is.”
Ice shrugged. “Let them bring it.” He shot Basil in the head.
Savage did the same for the mess that was Yeger. Absinthe pulled out his gun and executed Phil just as quickly.
“We’ve got to get out of here,” Savage said. “Did either of you touch anything?”
“The door,” Ice said. “I was wearing gloves.”
“I’ll wipe down the car,” Savage said. “Get her out of here.”
He glanced over to Soleil. Absinthe and Ice did as well. She was pale, her hands over her mouth as if covering a scream. Ice knew Soleil wasn’t used to sudden violence. This had to be a thousand times worse than anything she’d witnessed with Winston. She was probably scared out of her mind.
He straightened up and shoved his gun into the side holster before starting toward her. Soleil backed up a couple of steps. He stopped and picked up his bike, running his eyes over it to ensure it was in good working order.
“Baby, get over here. We have to leave before we’re seen.”
She was used to giving him what he wanted, and she took several steps toward him but then she stopped, shaking her head. “You just shot them. In the head. You just shot them, Ice.”
“We had no choice. These men were here for you. Now get the fuck on the bike now. We’re running out of time.” He took his colors off, rolled the jacket and pushed it into a compartment on his Harley. “Now.” He hissed the last command.
Soleil came to him, albeit reluctantly, but she came. She put her hand on his shoulder to steady herself while she straddled the machine. Her hand was trembling. The Harley started with a roar. He reached back, gripped her hands and yanked them to his belly, forcing her arms around him.
She was shaking nearly uncontrollably. He couldn’t blame her. She wasn’t a woman exposed to violence. Immediately, he had them speeding down the highway, looking for the first road that would take them on a circular route back to Caspar without actually riding along the coast where they could be seen and identified.