“Show me how you do it, is it like a slash right across or like ear to ear?” Malice asks Saige as they stand shoulder to shoulder with their arms crossed, looking at the moron currently tied up in a chair with his eyes darting between them.
It’s eerie how similar they can be when it comes to murder. His eyes bug out of his head as he thrashes and shakes. Pretty sure the fluid under his chair is his own piss. Definitely amateurs. This one should break easily enough.
Pity.
“Ear to ear, but it’s weird. I’ve actually never killed one tied up before. Seems a bit lackluster.”
“Yeah, anticlimactic?”
“Oh no, it is. Should we untie him? Make it a little more challenging?”
“Vixen,” Chaos barks. She turns slowly, her long black hair tied back in a messy braid, her dark, almond eyes practically glowing innocently as she looks at our president.
“Yes?”
“We need to have a little discussion with him before you and Malice get all stabby.”
Saige rolls her eyes, slapping her knife flat side into the palm of her hand. Chaos growls, walking up to her and gripping her waist hard, jerking her body into his. “Are you ever going to learn to listen?”
“It’s highly unlikely, Camden. But I know you like it.” He presses a kiss to her forehead, releasing his hold and taking his position between her and Malice. I join them, walking up to the man tied to the chair, his arm looking real rough.
“Arm looks like it hurts like a bitch. Was it worth it? Now I’m going to have to explain this bruise to someone important to me, and I don’t appreciate that very much. What’s your name?”
“Fuck you,” he says as he spits. I close my eyes slowly, letting the rage take over before standing and throwing a punch into his face with my right, then my left, using his head as a punching bag. Blood sprays from his lips, mouth, and nose. I stop just shy of leaving him unconscious. Bastard. I shake out my hands at my sides before lifting the chin of his swelling face. “Try again. What’s your name?”
“T-tttrevor.”
I slap his cheek twice in praise. “Good boy, that wasn’t that hard, was it? Now tell me, Trevor, who hired you to come in here and fuck with our business?”
“I-I d-don’t know. We got paid a thousand dollars each. Told us to leave a message by destroying the place.”
“Are you in the habit of taking money and instructions from strangers, Trevor? Your mom would be disappointed. Didn’t you pay attention in school?”
“I really don’t know who it was.” His breathing is labored, coming in heavy pants as blood drips in a steady pour from his face.
“That’s disappointing. We have no reason to keep you alive, then. Malice, have your fun. Try not to make it too messy this time. I found an ear in the corner of the basement a few weeks ago. A prospect passed out and puked all over himself when I told him to clean it up.”
“Wh-what?” Trevor screams in horror.
“Oh, did you think you were just going to die? No, that’s not how we deal with people who fuck with us and hurt our people. You’ll die slowly, painfully, in agony from your injuries. Malice here has to teach Saige the art of torture. You see, she’sreally quick, kinda stabby, likes to just slit throats and call it a day. But Malice? He’s an artist. He likes to take his time.”
“I don’t know! I don’t know who it is! The job was posted on the web. We pick jobs for quick cash. This one seemed like an easy in and out, and no one has ever offered this much. I don’t know who it is.”
“See? Now we’re getting somewhere! Where on the web?”
“I’ll-I’ll show you! I’ll show you!” he quickly yells. I stand, holding my hands out in a flourish for Chaos, Malice, and Saige. “You’re welcome. Mal, can you get the info? I’ve got some shit to deal with.”
“Yep!” he yelps with a little excited jump. I take several steps toward the door when Chaos slaps a firm hand on the leather of my shoulder.
“Where are you headed?”
“Gotta see how bad the damage to my face is. Hands look like shit. Don’t want her to see me like this.”
“She’s off-limits, Sin.”
“You don’t call me that for no reason.” I wink before walking out, not willing to stay away from her for anything . . . not my president, not my club, not the law—divine or otherwise.
Now, how am I going to explain these injuries to Bristol without her being scared of me?
