Free Big Dog by Ryder Dane

gagging, she hung her head. She had to turn and face them again, had to tell them there was more, and she knew she was crying, but silent tears were all she had to help her relieve the hurt their words and the humiliation their lack of trust in her word carried.
    “There is more if you need to see them. The nails they used to pierce my, my, they used nails. The police have them. I no longer have a spleen, and I had lost so much blood, the doctors were ready to pronounce me when I got to the hospital. You can get the records with all of your contacts I am sure.”
    Big Dog was mad, she looked at him when he stood and stomped over to her, jerking her t-shirt from Freakshow and placing it in her hands. “Get dressed, if they need to see more they can fuck themselves.” He told Seth to take her back to the bike and get her a drink.
    The leader of Lucifer’s Breed said “No, let her stay,” and said something low to his men. One left, and she got dressed the rest of the way, stuffing her bra into the waistband of her pants, because she wasn’t about to take the shirt off again. She didn’t know where to look, or what she was supposed to do, so she stood where she was, and waited. The small leather case that contained her ID and credit card had fallen to the ground and she looked up to thank Freakshow for finding it. She was gratified to see he wasn’t repulsed by her. He gave her a small smile, and nodded. That had to have hurt the normally frozen faced “Goth Daddy” as she thought of when she thought of him.
    Big Dog spoke and she watched Lucifer’s Breed’s people as he addressed their leader. “We didn’t come here to have a war, but we will be happy to oblige if you are still skeptical about our reasons for keeping your boys on ice until this meeting. The question is, what are you going to do about it?” He sent Seth to get the truck.
    They heard the powerful motor of the three quarter ton Ram as it backed up to the line where the Bastards' bikes were parked.
    Fires had been built due to the darkness, and the two lieutenants were told to go bring in the crates, Big Dog called their leader by name. “Wolfman, this is my gift to Lucifer’s Breed, what you do with it determines how these negotiations end.”
    The crates were too big to be opened in the tent, so they hauled them back outside. They were set close to one of the open campfires, and two of the Breed opened the lids with pry bars. Jarl was in the first crate, naked, with his hands and ankles duct taped together. The wide tape was plastered over his mouth, and the leader reached down and yanked it off.
    There were a few small bruises on his face, but the rest of him wasn’t marred in any recent way. The burn scar on his lower cheek and jaw was coffee colored, but that wasn’t new. Two of Wolfman’s crew stood him upright in the box, but no one moved to cut the bindings holding him in place.
    They opened the second crate and found Reeker in similar shape. Mule was brought to the campfire by two burly men, and until he saw Future standing on the opposite side of the fire, he hadn’t resisted his captivity. The back of his head carried scars from the fire, his hair was gone, and the scars had been tattooed over.
    She’d thought the men died in the fire, but obviously, the fourth man must have saved them, and dumped her in that field. Her fists clenched and released. She wanted to hurt them, she wanted to break every bone in Jarl’s body, cut his dick off and listen to him scream and beg for mercy.
    The man called Wolfman approached Jarl and backhanded him. “You told me the Chiefs and the Bastards attacked our men. You told me they came into our territory and attacked our people, stole the money that belonged to the club.” Each time Wolfman knocked the big man down, two Breed pulled him to his feet. “You have never been a President, an enforcer, or a goddamned anything but trouble. You disgraced our club, you kill people for fun, and we all