When the gunfire slows, I wait a few moments before I peek out, and a bullet flies beside my head, shattering a bottle on the shelf behind me.
“Goddamn it!” I roar as I stand and aim at the Russian who almost killed my ass. “You better kill me before I blow your goddamn brains out!”
I don’t pull my finger away from the trigger, and bullets ping from my UZI and into his body, one right after another. His large frame falls to the floor. I duck back behind the bar, take an extra magazine out of my pocket, and let the empty one fall to the floor as I slide the new one in place.
“Head count,” Pyro yells. “Prez?”
Our Prez shouts he’s good.
“Sniper?”
He shouts he’s fucking peachy.
“Shadow?”
“I’m fucking still intact,” I holler.
“Smokey?”
A few seconds go by before he answers in a pained voice. “Took one to the fuckin’ shoulder.”
“ZZ,” Pyro calls.
“I’m fucking here and my son is fucking dead!”
Fuck, this shit has just moved to an entirely new level.
“You bastards killed my brother’s fucking kid. You’re all going to hell,” Prez howls right before guns start roaring again.
I’m finished with ducking behind this bar like a fucking pussy. This shit just got real, and I am about to kill me some fucking assholes! I take out my pistol and grip it with my left hand while I stand, firing rapidly at anything that moves and isn’t one of my brothers. Thank fuck for the leather cuts. My eyes see nothing but red and orange flashes, and my ears hear nothing but the explosion of bullets hitting all around me.
The gunfire comes to halt when one last person is left standing on the opposing side.
Alec.
Go fucking figure his luck.
“ZZ, he’s yours,” Prez grits through his locked teeth. “Torture his sorry ass!”
I know just the place to take him so ZZ can unleash all his fury.
The dungeon.
“Grab a hold of him and follow me,” I say as I cough to clear my scratchy throat from the gun smoke and yelling.
My ears ring with echoes of the gunshots that linger inside of my head as we make our way to the dungeon. It isn’t a real dungeon, but it’s this club’s version of one. We ignore Alec’s cries of protests as I fling open the door and gesture them in with one hand. If they can’t figure out what to do with all the shit in here, then my brothers have no business torturing fuckers.
“Well, lookie there.” Sniper chuckles deviously at the sight of shackles hanging from the ceiling. “Chain him up so our brother can get his torch on.”
A smile lights my face and I grab one of Alec’s arms as the Prez grabs the other. We have him immobilized in less than a minute.
ZZ unclips a big ass knife from the holster on his hip and growls, “I ain’t playing games with this fucking piece of shit. I’m skinning him, and we’re gonna burn this fucking club to the ground with his ass still alive. I want him to feel the heat on his open flesh.”
If it weren’t such a good idea, I’d speak up about losing a perfectly good club, but this way, it will look like a kink accident gone wrong, while gangsters took a go at one another upstairs. Less cleanup for us is always a good thing.
A few things plague my mind. “Why the fuck were the Russians here, Alec?”
He doesn’t answer until ZZ holds his knife up to his throat, digs it into his flesh, and growls for him to answer my question.
“Fuck, okay.” He sputters. “I picked some random Russian strangers and paid them for protection.” He coughs and continues. “I apparently chose the wrong ones.”
“Yeah, no shit. Look where you are now, motherfucker. Poor intimidation tactics. Your assuming that we’re afraid of our enemies is the biggest mistake you made. Now, it will cost you your life.” Wait. “Where the fuck is Sabine?” I ask while I move away from Alec.
Smokey gestures behind him. “Thought she should see who the fuck she’s messing with. Bitch got her ass shot in the line of fire, too.” He hoots loudly.
The sound that comes from my mouth is anything but a sane one. The bitch fucking deserves the wound.
Alec’s whimpers grate on my nerves while we wait for ZZ to strip the flesh from his bones. This is going to be one nasty as hell torture session. ZZ keeps his leather gloves on and bitches that he’s about to ruin them. Chuckles light up the room, and they are anything but friendly.
“I think I’ll start with his back,” he murmurs while he cuts off Alec’s shirt.
I hold up my hand for ZZ to halt as I search for a ballgag. No way in hell can I take the excessive screaming for a minute longer. When I find a dirty one sitting on a shelf, it only lights my fury towards Alec. Fucking dumbass was slacking so bad.