I left Alisha in bed and a prospect at my gate. All the women are at home and in bed, but we have something to take care of.
The man who threw the brick is here and he is about to get what’s his. He could have seriously hurt Alisha tonight. He was waiting for one of us to go by. Locke was a bounty hunter before becoming a prospect, and he put his skills to use tonight when I told him what happened while Alisha was in the tub.
All the members are already here. Holy fucking shit, Alisha gave some fucking good head, and I have never seen a woman come so hard in my entire life.
“This the asshole?” I ask.
Locke steps away from the corner he was leaning against. Nodding, I walk over to the man who is hanging from the ceiling by his arms, his shirt cut off his body by a knife, Butch’s signature move. He just doesn’t cut the man’s shirt off; he drags the knife across his skin, leaving a line down his body.
The man raises his head and looks at me. I grin. He pulls back with his restraints, and I stop approaching him when we are face-to-face.
“Remember me?” I taunt. I grin and bring my gun out of my back holster. I cock it and place it on his temple.
“Please,” he pleads and closes his eyes. His face puckers up in distress, making him ugly as shit.
“You going to tell me what you were doing tonight?”
He starts crying harder, and I roll my eyes. I am not in the fucking mood for pussies tonight. The man stops crying and opens his eyes. I motion Butch forward. The man starts crying worse than before.
Butcher brings out one of his many knives and drags his hand across the sharp edge.
“Okay!” the man yells.
Well, that was fucking easy. Everyone in the room chuckles. This man has to be the biggest fucking pussy we have ever dealt with. We didn’t even get to torture him yet and he’s giving up information.
He looks at all of us, wide-eyed, and starts spilling his guts. “The Devils Slaves paid me five hundred dollars to hit the old ladies on the back of your bikes.”
It’s dead fucking silent as rage fills us. It’s one thing to mess with us, but for someone to put a fucking hit on the ladies like this? Unacceptable. These men are fighting a war that will get them more than killed.
They will suffer.
“I missed on purpose. I didn’t want to do it.” The guy looks at all of us again. “There’s more.”
We all step closer, salivating for more information and more reasons to kill these fuckers.
“These men are shooting for the women and children. I would advise against them being on the backs of your bikes. Don’t leave them alone. Ever. These men are hiring people to do their dirty work. Arm your ladies. Put tracking on them. If they are alone with these men for a minute, they will be forever changed, beaten, and raped, and what I mean by that is gang-raped.”
Fuck.
We knew they were shooting for the women because they know that that’s our weakness, but we underestimated these men in the sickness department. Never again.
“We will turn you loose, but we got a message for them.” Kyle steps in front of the man. “Tell them death is just the beginning, and tell them to watch their backs. They won’t know what’s hit them.” Kyle looks at me.
Fuck. The thought of one of these men being a hundred feet away from Alisha sets my blood boiling.
Locke will set this man out and we will go to the basement. We have these men under surveillance, including inside their club. Their bikes are planted with bombs and tracking. We even have mini bombs on their cuts. We hired some prostitutes to plant these on the men. We can kill them all right now, but what fun is that? These men are our bitches and don’t even know it.
Locke lets the man down and takes him out.
I walk out of the room and into the basement, which belongs to me. This is my setup. Everyone follows me downstairs, and I climb into my chair and roll to the middle of my desk. I fire up my computer and the flat screen above my head comes on, showing the inside of their club.
I turn the volume on.
“I hope that stupid fucker nails one of those bitches tonight!” a fat man bellows, and several men laugh.
They are all dirty, gross, and a fucking disgrace to humanity. I want to fucking end them on sight, and it gets worse the longer I watch them.
“That blond bitch that the crazy fucker follows around like a dog in heat? I want first dibs on her before that pussy is annihilated,” the man sitting across from the fat man says.
Holy fuck.
I feel Butch at my back.
“End him now.”
I look to Kyle, and he nods. He knows the consequences. These men can find the planted bombs, but it’s not likely. They are completely hidden and blended in.
“Both?” I ask Kyle.