5 - Capture

~Punch’s Point of View~

I park the van outside a rough building in an even rougher area of town. Not in Flyer territory. Not somewhere I should be let alone the Alpha’s daughter. I tell myself I need to call someone to fetch Hazel, but I don’t. The plan had only been to scare her, just give her a little scare, well she’s gonna get even more.

Yet I know she’s safe here even in the most crime riddled neighborhood. The only thing to fear is me. This is a neutral zone, on the border of Flyer territory where it meets Viuda Negra’s. Though for me to be down here it would have to mean I’m handling pack business, which I’m not.

Mick paces in my mind, not giving a shit about Hazel for once. He is laser focused.

“Listen to me when I say… do NOT get out of this van. No matter what happens. If your ass leaves this vehicle I can’t be held responsible,” I warn, in a low voice.

It’s still a voice that says I’m not fucking around and she knows it.

“I’ll stay put,” she whispers.

The glow of a cigarette at the end of the alley is my cue. Hopping out of the van, I lock it for good measure. It’s cold as shit out here so I can’t leave her for too long without being an asshole. I’m fully aware she’s still only a pup with no wolf to warm her.

“Brother,” Grouch says, fist bumping me. 

Even though he's old enough to be my father. Respect is only earned, and the fact that I'm still a Yardbird but have earned it gives me an intense satisfaction. As the Beta of our pack he’s the de facto Alpha when Doze isn’t around, but I already know anything he says goes. Doze trusts him 100%.

“How deep is he in,” I ask, cutting right to the chase.

“Three grand he brought, plus down another four when I came out. Maybe he’s gonna put up his car,” he says, tossing his cigarette.

Mick growls through me, pissed off. Where the fuck did he get three grand? He hasn’t worked in two years at least. I hadn't laid eyes on him personally but I had spies. He had to have stolen it. Or conned a female for it.

“I’m gonna need some gas to get home, can you help me out,” I taunt, raising my eyebrow and flicking my head up the street. He nods, then gives a small cough.

“Don’t you know those things'll kill ya,” I tease, slapping his back as he moves ahead of me.

“Counting on it,” he laughs, opening the door to the building.

I give a nod to the guard, of course he knows me even though he isn’t a Flyer. Unfortunately, alliances need to be made sometimes. This gambling den was an example of the necessity to get along. Now, it was far too profitable for us all to quit.

Grouch leads the way to the larger poker room and as he enters, I hang back.

*It’s him. Fucking hell. I can’t believe he didn’t leave town. Send the message,* Mick demands, pacing in my head.

I rub my face and pull out my cell. I open the group text chat for all Flyers. It’s very, very rarely used. Only for serious emergencies. Anything said in the chat is extremely cryptic on purpose, but with clear words everyone will more than understand.

ME: B Card, one hour.

I wasn’t officially a Flyer, but they would more than make an exception for this. I was thought of as Dozer's son and a wrong against me is a wrong against the entire pack. They know my story, they know how personal it is for me to help all the pups that come to the boxing ring and why.

I began to crack my knuckles, loudly. There are four active tables in the room and suddenly it's so quiet you can hear a pin drop. I move toward one table in particular. The eight males seated immediately take notice of me. I only know one of them, yet they all seem to know my face. I’m a sick fuck, so I like that.

Mick reveles in their fear. I often wonder which of us is sicker. 

Nah, it’s him.

One by one they pop up to try and leave. All but one … is allowed to do so. Pretty soon the room is clear.

“Why don’t you stay awhile friend,” Grouch says, putting his hand on the male’s shoulder and shoving him back into the seat.

It’ll cost me probably 10k minimum to be shutting the place down for the rest of the night, but I couldn’t give a fuck. I may have to lean on Dozer for help, but I will pay him back. I don’t ever want to owe anyone anything. All actions have consequences but if I make it right, I’ll be forgiven.

“That your Mustang outside? It’s pretty nice,” Grouch asks, falling in the seat next to the male.

The Beta quickly pulls out his phone and shoots off a text.

My prey’s eyes stay dead focused on me. Mick listens carefully as his heart races, and sweat beads on his forehead. Amazingly, he didn’t reek of booze. He was probably wondering why the fuck I was here right now and how I managed to in any kind of position of authority.

Now was hardly the time for story hour, not when I had my Alpha’s daughter freezing her tits off in the van.

“It’s yours. Take it, just let me go,” the male whispers.

He tosses his keys onto the table.

“Where … is she,” I ask, though I really didn’t give a shit. 

Yeah, Mick wanted them both but we’d never killed a female. I didn’t doubt my resolve to do it, for her I could make an exception.Especially for how she hurt Mags. But if I didn’t get her, I wouldn’t lose sleep. However she’s out there killing herself is probably just as bad. I just don’t want her to hurt anyone else, ever again. If what she did to me wasn’t enough to sign her death sentence, what she puts Mags through more than justifies her death.

His eyes lower as shame covers his features.

“Couldn’t say. Left me a long time ago,” he says, refusing to look me in the eye. Yeah, sure. You mean you left her.

“Imagine that, we have something in common. Leaving you was the best thing I ever did,” I say, my lips then press together and my eyes turn to slits.

Grouch stands in a swift movement and puts a bag over his head. I’m quickly behind the male, pulling him to his feet and grabbing his hands.

Within seconds I have his wrists zip tied and am leading him out of the building. Just up the block I catch sight of two Yardbirds laughing, moving quickly around a Mustang.

“I’ll ride with you. I got dropped off,” Grouch says, as I unlock the van.

“Gotta make a stop first,” I say, as I open the back doors. 

He sees the back of Hazel’s head but I doubt he knows it’s her, at least not yet. This was hardly the type of adventure I would bring a Fly on, so he has to know something is up. His wolf will pick up her scent in a minute.

BOOM

“Ahhh!! Ohh shit,” Hazel shrieks, as the van rocks.

Heat pumps through the cold, otherwise still night air, washing over all of us. The intense stench of gasoline is also ripe and pushing into my lungs.

Grouch and I toss the male into the back of the van and slam the doors shut.

BOOM

“What the hell is that,” she cries, trying to turn around in her seat.

“Cleaning up trash,” I reply, quickly starting the engine. 

Probably stupid on my part, I could have taken that car to a chop shop and gotten a few grand for it. But I’m dramatic sometimes, what can I say?

Grouch hops in the passenger seat and quickly turns around to see my guest.

“Uhm, shit,” he whispers, laughing and actually putting on his seatbelt.

I floor the pedal, backing out of the alley. I drive for a block in reverse before finally changing gears and going down a side street.

“What’s up with that,” Grouch finally asks, pointing in the back.

“Sanctioned, don’t worry,” I smirk, nearly hitting a dumpster.

“What!? My dad okayed this,” she snaps.

I don’t answer her, but a grin spreads across my face. She huffs and sits back, bracing herself with my crazy driving. When I finally get to her house, I stick my finger in Grouch’s face, indicating to give me a minute. He shakes his head.

Practically gliding across the front of the van I grab the door handle a second later. 

PHEW

“What the fuck,” I shout, looking at the spit on my shirt. 

Mick demands I grab her roughly, toss her in the grass. He always wants me to be rough with her. If literally anyone else spit on me I’d dismember them and feed them to some real animals.

I reach in and harshly pull her out. Once she’s steady on her feet I open a switchblade inches from her face, making her jump. Her eyes didn’t look at it though, they stay dead set on me. She doesn’t fear me at all and it pisses me off.

*No it doesn’t,* my wolf chides.

Not giving her a chance to answer I spin her around and cut the zip tie on her wrists. She groans and immediately rubs them.

I put my knife away and shut the door before turning around to see her still standing there. I get in her face.

“Listen to me, little girl. You’re gonna get your shit together and apologize to your mother. If I have to hear from her again that her precious angel has upset her it ain’t gonna be pretty. Do I make myself clear,” I seethe, getting in her face.

Mick flicks my eyes black for good measure, making her gasp and jump back. It's a battle at times to keep him from shifting around her.

“Who’s in the back,” she asks, slightly catching me off guard.

I didn’t think she’d have the balls to even ask.

When I don’t answer she adds, “are you going to kill him?”

“Take your spoiled ass inside,” I say, pointing.

“What happened to you Punch,” she whispers, her lip trembling.

She looks a mess: make-up smeared all over her face, her hair crazy. Fresh tears, dried ones. Her clothes wrinkled. Still, all I wanna do is crush her to me and that’s a tell tale sign I need to get fuck outta here.

I nearly ask what she means. I’m no saint, she’s never known me as one. She knows what the Flying Death are, what we do. She knows what pays for the clothes on her back that she loves so much.

“Get your shit together Hazel. I mean it,” I say, and finally turn away. I don’t look back at her, I can’t.

The irony of me … lecturing someone on behaving. Yeah. I’ve already more than solidified my place in hell, if it exists.