Home > Butch (The Skulls #7)(52)

Butch (The Skulls #7)(52)
Author: Sam Crescent

In the background she heard Butch and the others shouting her name. Seeing a secluded area near the swings, she rounded the bend and stopped. A man she’d never seen before was pointing a gun at her son’s head. Matthew was sitting between the mystery man’s legs playing with some new toys.

“Hello, Cheryl,” the man said.

Not taking her eyes off her son, her heart started to race more than ever before. “Hello.” She spoke calmly, hoping not to scare her son.

“You don’t know who I am, but I’ve got a friend who knows you, and he wants to meet you.”

“I don’t know anyone who would own a gun or point it at my son’s head,” she said.

Sweat bloomed on her forehead. How could she get Matthew out of danger without him getting hurt? There was no easy way. She couldn’t grab her son, otherwise he’d end up dead.

Tears filled her eyes as she looked at him. “I don’t know who you are,” she said.

“It’s okay. We know who you are. Gonzalez needs your cooperation.”

She went to look behind her.

“That’s not a good idea,” he said. “You shout them or alert them, and I will kill your son.”

The tears she’d tried to keep at bay finally released.

“Please, don’t hurt my son.” She took a step closer and another.

“I wouldn’t try anything funny. You got the head in a box. I’m not against doing it to you.”

“You killed that woman?”

“Yes, and she screamed throughout it all. I loved hearing her scream.”

“I don’t want you to hurt my son. I’ll come with you.”

“Good.”

She reached her son, and he grabbed her arm leading them both away from any prying eyes. Glancing behind her, she didn’t see any of The Skulls. None of them knew she’d gone with this man or where she was going.

Cheryl refused to cry more. Nothing good could come from her letting any tears fall.

The man without a name forced her into the back of the car. It took every ounce of strength not to shout out, begging for help. She held onto her son as they pulled away from the curb. She didn’t know what to do.

Closing her eyes, she hoped Butch found them soon. The thought of never seeing him again filled her with dread.

“We’re going to be okay, honey,” she said, kissing her son’s head.

She didn’t know how long they were driving for. The man pulled up outside of a hotel.

“The boss awaits you,” the man said, opening the door. There was no chance for her to get away as she was led up to another secluded room.

Don’t panic.

Keeping her gaze forward, she held onto Matthew as they were pulled into a beautiful, expensive hotel room.

“Ah, Cheryl, it’s a pleasure to see you again.”

It was Frederick Gonzalez. He wore a business suit and smiled as she walked in.

“What the hell is going on?”

“It’s quite simple, honey. I want The Skulls, and you’re the key to getting them.”

She frowned. “There’s no chance. I’m with Butch, not anyone else.” Cheryl held onto Matthew.

“Yes, and with you gone, he’ll beg to come back to The Skulls. I don’t know how they’ll handle that, but then I get them to do what I want when they ask for you back. This is a win-win for me.” He motioned for her to sit down. “I’d rest if I were you. You’re going to need to relax.”

Sitting down in the sofa, Cheryl wouldn’t let go of her son. Gonzalez didn’t know that Butch had already asked to return? Trying not to let her thoughts show, she kept her gaze on her son.

“Oh, if they don’t give me what I want then I will start to hurt you. I’ll also get Homer to kill your son before he moves onto you.”

Closing her eyes, she prayed for her son’s life.

Come on, Butch. Find us.

****

Back at the clubhouse Butch was losing his mind. He couldn’t find Matthew or Cheryl. It was like they both disappeared, which made no sense. Running fingers through his hair, he waited for Whizz to run a search on the security footage. The clubhouse was a mess. Furniture was trashed, and broken bottles were strewn around all over the place. Gonzalez meant business, and he was taking it out on the club. This had to be about more than Butch and his past.

“What’s going on?” Butch asked, pointing around the clubhouse. There weren’t any sweet-butts around either.

“We’ve got Gonzalez looking into every area of our life,” Nash said. “Everything is a mess right now.”

“It has to be him who’s taken Cheryl and Matthew,” Alex said, speaking up for the first time.

“You’ve got to help me find her. He will kill her.” Butch was sure the other man would kill her. There was no way he was going to put his trust in Gonzalez not to hurt his woman. Memories of the past invaded his thoughts. He shoved them aside and started to pace. “I knew I shouldn’t have taken her to the picnic.” Shaking his head, he was so angry with himself. Instead of listening to his own gut, he’d listened to what she wanted, and now they were both missing.

“Cheryl wanted to go,” Eva said.

“How do I know you’re not working for Gonzalez, huh?” Butch asked, losing his temper.

All of the club tensed up.

“What the f**k did you say?” Zero asked, stepping up. It had been a long time since he’d spoken to his friend.

“No one leaves the club, right? How the f**k do I know if you’re not even working against me to get me as payback? I asked to come back, and none of your have given me the time of day. You were begging me back, and now you’re taking your time.” Zero was on Butch’s ass within seconds of him talking. Zero slammed his fist into his face. Women screamed, and Prue tugged Zero away. Butch knew he shouldn’t have said shit like that. His anger and fear had him lashing out.

“Leave him. He’s not thinking straight,” Prue said, whispering to Zero’s ear.

“He’s not been thinking straight ever since he f**king left the club.” Zero looked like he wanted to hurt him even more.

Rolling to his stomach, Butch got to his feet. “She’s my woman, and you’re not doing anything about it. I asked to come back, and again you’re keeping my ass waiting.”

He pointed at Tiny. The president of The Skulls stared at him with a fierce expression on his face. Butch didn’t care what others thought of him. “For every other woman you were there and reacting to the smallest slight.”

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