Claimed by The Beast (LGBT Bikers)

40 // A Costly Mistake

❥ KNOX'S POV

Over a thousand cuts later, Ghost continues to push Knox's patience to the limit by withholding the information needed to find Russell.

"You know this ends as soon as you tell me what I want to hear, right?" Knox twists the blade deeper into Ghost's left knee, pulling another excruciating cry from the man. "I know Russell is hiding out somewhere in a cabin, and I also know you know where the fuck it is. So where the hell is it?"

"Does it really matter at this point?" Ghost pants, sweat and blood covering his face.

"You wouldn't be here if it didn't fucking matter," Knox retorts.

"Sure I would. You guys have been after me for a while now, right?" Ghost spits blood at Knox's feet. His arms are numb, and his naked body is covered in gruesome bruises, various sized cuts, dried and fresh blood. "I'm genuinely surprised it took you this long to catch me," he laughs. "Rookie mistake on my part. Something told me I was walking into a trap and my dumbass still showed up. That's what happens when you start to believe you're invincible."

"You talk and talk and talk but it's nothing that I want to fucking hear." Knox removes the blade and jams it into Ghost's right knee, twisting fast and aggressively. "What's the goddamn address to the cabin? We can do this all night, all day tomorrow, and the next fucking day if you truly want to be a badass. I have nothing but time."

"Apparently, so do I." Ghost laughs again, but distress is written all over his face. "I told you once before that I'm no fucking r-rat, so either kill me or go fuck yourself."

For hours, Ghost has been dangling in the center of the kill room looking like a broken puppet. His arms are stretched painfully upward, and his wrists are bound with something akin to barbed wire. For him, at this point, breathing is about as painful as receiving a punch to the gut. Every move he makes, his body pleads with him to give up and talk.

"I guess we're pulling an all-nighter." Knox is more frustrated than he cares to admit, but he doesn't let it show as he walks to the other end of the room to pick out a painful new toy to further mutilate Ghost's body with.

Part of him wants to take his time with tonight's torture session, but the other part of him wants to hurry the fuck up and get it over with because he'd have more fun in bed with Everett.  

In the midst of his browsing, the door to the kill room swings open and Mason enters with his familiar cocky grin. A sign that can only mean good news lies ahead.

"Did you come here to help or to tell me something?" Knox questions.

"The latter."

"What's going on?"

"I just came from speaking to Gavin. He said you can kill Ghost because we got what we need," Mason tells Knox. "His most recent calls were from an unknown number, which I assumed belonged to Russell since I didn't see his contact saved in the phone. Long story short, I was able to trace Russell's burner phone to a cabin located in the middle of fucking nowhere."

"Thank fuck. This asshole was getting on my last damn nerve." Knox, no longer thinking too deeply about it, picks up a screwdriver and a long kitchen knife. Simple yet effective with what he plans to accomplish. "Any last words?" he asks Ghost while turning back around. "Because I can't stand to hear your voice for another second, so I'm cutting your tongue out first."

"That cabin is packed with more security than a federal prison. Your Pres is never getting that tape back," Ghost says, his voice having gone up a pitch. "Your best bet is to call Russell and make a deal. Agree to hand over the USB and the fucker who killed Shaun, and I will convince Russell to bow out of this war and give you all the footage in exchange. Trust me, he'll listen to what I have to say."

"Speaking on behalf of my Pres and dead VP, The Fallen Angels ain't making no type of fucking deal with you shitbags. And we sure all would never hand over one of our own," Knox snaps, offended. "A truce will never happen. The only way this war ends is by one side getting wiped out by the other, and as it stands right now, you're on the losing team."

"Well, I'll uh..." Mason slowly backs out of the room. "...let you two get back to it."

After the door shuts behind Mason, Knox advances on Ghost. He can see both fear and peace glistening in the man's eyes. A small part of him can't help but be a little impressed by the man's bravery and unwillingness to fold under pressure and pain. 

"I'll see you again in Hell," Ghost mutters. "Maybe we'll be a bit more cordial down there."

"I doubt it." Knox's grip tightens on the screwdriver, but before he can act, the startling burst of gunshots from outside interrupts the moment. "What the f—"

"Of course..." Ghost smirks. "Did you really think my people would give up that easily?"

"I'm going to kill you nice and slow when I get back," Knox mutters through clenched teeth. His entire world narrows in an instant as his instincts kick in to protect Everett, his brothers, and his home.

He drops his weapons and rushes out of the kill room to see his brothers running out of the clubhouse and toward the front yard with their guns drawn, a few of them barely dressed but still prepared to fight. He's tempted to follow them until a heavy thud sounds from inside the kill room.

Cursing under his breath, he re-enters the room to find Ghost sitting on the ground, his hands nearly mangled after he ripped them free from their bindings, copious amounts of blood drips down his wrists onto the concrete floor.

The next moments are a blurred dance of danger and reflexes.

A darker, more reckless type of rage overtakes Knox as he charges forward to roughly fist a hand in Ghost's hair. At the same time, Ghost grabs the knife and drives it up into Knox's stomach. The attack happens in seconds, too quickly for Knox to have stopped it due to his mind being stuck on Everett and the gunfire that's growing louder outside. Pain radiates through Knox's torso, and he sways but stays on his feet courtesy of pure adrenaline.

With his guard back up, he wrenches the knife free and uses it to slice Ghost's throat. He then stumbles back into one of the walls, pressing a hand to the wound as blood seeps between his trembling fingers.

It doesn't take long for the life to drain from Ghost's eyes, his body now completely still.

. . .