Archer shakes his head. “You’ve got a lot of nerve speaking to us like that when you’re cuffed, blindfolded, and at our mercy.”
Speaking in a low rumble, Kingston growls, “I would react the same, Elliot or not. I’ve fuckin’ asked you point-blank multiple times to explain how one of our initiates ended up injured on your watch. You’ve refused to answer. This is on you. Now, you can either tell us what happened or take your punishment. Your fate is up to you, you arrogant fuckin’ assholes.”
We wait a beat, but silence is the name of their game; their jaws are locked tight. “Nothing, huh?” Archer grins at us, holding up a jar that I recognize from our misadventures as initiates. I still don’t know where he got it or exactly what it is, but I can tell you from experience, it’s absolutely disgusting. It’s so potent, it makes my eyes water. I plug my nose as he gleefully walks around the circle. They recoil the closer it gets to them.
It’s fucking hilarious.
“Oh, fuck. What is that?” When it’s his turn to get an up-close whiff, Joel gags, jerking his head back. I’m suddenly very glad Archer thought to bring old towels and trash bags to line the car seats and floor. I have a feeling these guys might be very foul-smelling by the time we get done with them.
Archer doesn’t seem bothered by the horrendous smell and laughs. “Yeah, you’re right about that. It’s fucking rancid down here.” Then he smirks devilishly at us and groans, “Oh, shit, look at that.”
“What?” Bridger hesitantly asks.
“Don’t worry about it. If you can’t see it, just pretend it’s not there.”
Stuart’s head drops back on his shoulders. “This is so incredibly fucked.”
“See, the thing is, I don’t take kindly to rule breakers. So, the longer you don’t talk, the worse it’s going to be for you.” Kingston’s voice is absolutely lethal. He eyes me, and I nod, stepping forward as Archer steps back and puts away his little jar of death.
I wonder what it’ll take to get these fuckers to crack. I feel like I already know the answer to the question of who hurt Elliot. All of them were responsible in one way or another for messing with her. And I’m sure these pencil dicks know that if even one of them comes clean, they’re all in fucking trouble. They’re pissed that Elliot—a female who they feel doesn’t deserve to kiss the ground they walk on—has been allowed to remain at the house. They conspired together to keep her from winning that game… and possibly have been threatening her the entire time. Beyond sending her those fucked-up notes, who knows what they’ve done or said to her. It took a lot before she brought it to Kingston’s attention that shit had been happening to her right under our goddamn noses.
Disgust fills me as I look at them. I knew when we dealt with Alec two years ago as our initiate that this group was completely fucked in the head. They are not what this brotherhood is supposed to be. They thrive on being cruel. Well, I hate to tell them, they’re going to get a taste of that now.
Kingston and Archer stand back, watching me as I circle the group. I poke Alec in the cheek, watching in amusement as he grunts and his jaw locks up. Stuart, I rifle my fingers lightly over his beard, then watch as he shudders and jerks away, thinking something is crawling on him. I then breathe in Joel’s face, making him falter and step backward, almost taking the entire group down.
“Watch it, asshole,” Alec grits right as I jab at his Adam’s apple with two stiff fingers. He coughs in response. “Fuck.”
I look over at Kingston and nod that he should proceed. He clucks his tongue before beginning. “So, we want to know what the fuck went on in this house. And we’re not fucking around. Don’t answer? Reap the consequences.”
There’s a whole lot of shuffling around and mumbling under their breath that is only going to get them into trouble if they don’t watch it.
Alec groans, “Fuck, man. You’ve already asked us. Twice.”
“Yeah. We asked nicely before. We’re done with that.” Archer shakes his head, standing on the opposite side of them as me. He points at Alec and Joel, then himself. Understood. I’m to deal with Stuart and Bridger.
Stuart grunts, “You can suck my fat cock. I’m not saying a goddamn thing.”
I step up to him with the Ping-Pong paddle Archer gave me earlier from his magic bag and smack him right in the dick.
He howls long and loud, dropping to his knees and curling into a ball to protect himself, which is admittedly difficult with his hands behind his back.
Kingston huffs out a laugh, eyeing him, but his next words aren’t funny at all. He growls from deep in his chest, “Who put Elliot in the closet?”
“Fuck off, you pussy-whipped bitches,” Alec heaves, struggling with the cuffs at his back. He’s not doing himself any favors.
Archer has a second Ping-Pong paddle and doesn’t hesitate. He smacks it right across Alec’s cheek. In response, Alec shouts in pain, cursing like a sailor.Fuck. I bet that hurt. And from the look on Archer’s face, I’m certain he enjoyed every second of it.
Kingston growls, “Who yanked her hair and shoved her face into the floor upstairs?”
I lift the paddle, resting my fist against Bridger’s chest, just barely touching under his chin with the end of the paddle, so he knows something is there, waiting for him, depending on his answer. Bridger’s lower lip quakes. “I swear I didn’t.”
With my free hand, I grasp as much of his short hair as I can and yank.
“Fuck. Ow. Fuck!”
Archer snickers. “You sure that’s your final answer? Cannon looks like he’s about to throw you down again and smash your face into the floor.”
“I d-didn’t.” Bridger is close to whimpering.What a fucking baby.
