Was this some kind of power trip to show everyone else how powerful he was?
Alan fucked with the wrong man.
Sipping at his beer, he checked the security of the men. They were bored and used to working like this to keep him safe. The men were not even on their guard. Didn’t they expect anyone to try to take out their boss? Once he started shooting, he would have to work quickly to get out of there.
He killed Trevor. No walking away, no backing out.
Fight to the death.
He and Trevor had promised each other a lifetime of friendship. Nothing could keep either of them from what they wanted—until this fucker had taken Trevor away from him.
Kill him. Hurt him.
Trevor died slowly. The only person he’d called was Lucas.
Waiting for the right opportunity was his best course of action. Sipping at his beer, he saw the right opportunity as Alan’s security guards turned their backs on the crowd, bored with looking after someone who wasn’t in danger.
They were mistaken. Getting closer was easier. Lucas had learned to fire both guns at the same time. The summers growing up he’s spent the time practicing to fire both as he wanted to be like the cowboys in the movies. Not many men could fire two guns at the same time, but he’d trained to the point of ease.
Drawing them out, he took out the first two men along with the three charging toward them. With them down, he ran toward the glass, knocked Alan out and dragged him out of the back of the club. He had learned the layout of the club easily. Adrenaline pumping through his veins, Lucas continued to move, all the time thinking about his best friend.
He dumped Alan in the back of his truck he’d rented and drove to the abandoned glass building he found in the outskirt of the city. The windows were smashed, and there were cobwebs everywhere. Securing Alan to the chair took little effort. Lucas stared at the man who had taken Trevor away from him and Prue. His morbid thoughts were starting to sound like a broken record.
The man was handsome. Good for Alan. Lucas had practiced his carving skills.
Pouring bottled water into the man’s face, he waited for Alan to come around.
“What? What the fuck?”
See, a criminal was just human and easy to get to. No one was above death, not even Alan.
“Hello, sunshine.”
Alan didn’t look a day older than thirty.
“Who the fuck are you?” Alan asked.
Smiling, Lucas grabbed a scalpel and impaled it in Alan’s leg. The other man screamed, cursing.
“What the fuck?”
Removing the blade, he stabbed it into Alan’s leg three more times. “So you are fucking human. People I’ve been talking to think you piss gold or some shit like that.”
“You better release me before my men find me and fuck you up.” Alan struggled against the restraints holding him.
“Good. The moment they get here, find you, I’ll kill you.” Lucas pulled out the two guns and placed them on the tray he’d set up with all of his instruments. “It’s amazing really. You’re not a very liked person. The people I spoke to were more than happy to give me everything I needed. You made a lot of enemies.”
“Being king to the commoners means making enemies,” Alan said, spitting onto the ground.
“You’re king?”
“Someone needs to take care of the whores, the drugs, and the shit-heads.”
“Yeah, I’m sure with your pretty face all the women come to you for help, and instead of getting heaven, you throw them into hell.” Standing up, Lucas grabbed his knife from the back of his pocket. He walked behind Alan, grabbed him by the head, and slid the blade down Alan’s face. “Let’s see how many women want you near them when you look like a fucking monster.”
For the next hour, Lucas worked over Alan’s face. When he was done, he gripped the blade and slammed it into Alan’s back, twisting the knife. The screams gave him little pleasure. It didn’t matter how much Alan screamed. He wouldn’t be getting Trevor back and Alan wasn’t going to get his looks back.
Half way through the torture, Alan pissed himself. Not caring, Lucas pulled out the envelope Trevor left him.
Dear Lucas and Prue,
I fucked up big. I’m not going to make it through the night. I’m so sorry to you both for letting you down. I thought I was doing the right thing. I fucked up my delivery, and the others went back to Alan. They were working for him trying to get more money. Alan shot me, and now I’m fucking dying.
Lucas stopped reading as he saw the bloodstains. The writing was all over the place, the ink showing the pain Trevor had been in.
“Fuck, I can’t feel my legs.” Alan’s voice was disjointed, showing his pain. His face was a fucking mess.