“We’re not interested in your money,” Nero tells him.
“Then what do you want? You’ve got the wrong person. I’m just a college kid, I’m not involved in anything. Please I won’t say anything.”
He keeps babbling and pleading, even though he doesn’t appear to have a clue why he is here. That says a lot about the little fucker. He shuts up pretty quick when Fury takes out his knife.
His eyes go wide and in seconds the smell of piss fills the room. I’d feel bad if I hadn’t watched the video of what this kid did to Taylor. He’s a budding psychopath according to Blaze’s research.
“Remember this?” Nero pulls out his phone and holds it up.
Nero can’t see the screen and there is no sound but I watch it, see Taylor taking those punches to the face and falling to the ground. Nero doesn’t want to watch it again and I get it. It hardens any doubts I had about this.
“I don’t know what that is,” he cries out. “That isn’t me.”
Nero nods to me and I walk behind him and grab the rope, jerking it hard so his back bows. For a good eight or so seconds I pull on it, making him thrash and try to fight it as his breath is stolen. Nero nods again and I loosen the slack on the rope.
Our Prez isn’t big on torture, he usually leaves that to Stryker, or Fury. This is personal and before he ends things, he wants the kid to admit it. We go on for ten minutes, choking him and Fury cutting him in various parts of his body, before he is crying and admitting to it, begging for his life.
“You see that woman,” Nero holds the phone up close to his face.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, please. It won’t happen again. It won’t, I will never do it again, I swear.”
“The second you put your hands on her,” Nero snarls at him. “Your life was fucking over. I want you to look at her, look at what you did.”
He is crying in earnest now, squeezing his eyes shut. Nero looks at me over his head, a look of such profound disgust on his face as he lifts his chin. I loosen the rope and lift it over his head.
The kid looks up in surprise, his head swiveling between each of us, a look of hope in his eyes. Fury hands Nero the knife and any hope disappears as quickly as it came, the fear rippling through his body.
With quick precision, Nero slashes the knife across the kid’s throat. An arc of blood sprays to the side. Nero had very thoughtfully placed a tarp beneath the chair prior to our arrival.
We watch as he gurgles and splutters and bleeds out. It happens pretty quick, the light dimming in his eyes.
The whole time, the video is playing, taunting him, showing him it was down to his own actions that he ended up here.
The clean-up isn’t my favorite part but we get the dickhead back in his body bag, the tarp rolled and Ronin comes in to take the chair, zip ties and rope. Everything that was here when we arrived is gone. Not a speck of blood or a hint that anyone has been here by the time we leave.
“You know where you’re going?” Nero asks Fury when the body is back in the trunk. He nods. “Razer is there with the bikes.”
“See you at home, ladies,” Fury heads around the car.
“Asshole,” I call after him as Nero lets out a laugh.
Some might wonder how we make light of such a situation but we’re used to it. It’s our way of life and we only ever do things like this to people who deserve it.
In this case, you could say the punishment doesn’t fit the crime, but Blaze believes the kid would move on to serious assault and likely murder if he was left to carry on.
With a dad who has pulled strings before to hide his son’s abhorrent behavior from middle-school onwards, we did the world a favor. It’s the only way to rationalize this.
Nero pats my shoulder and tells me he is going home. Taylor and Oscar are there with Jesse, his best friend. Jesse is richer than Morris’ dad and lives in a penthouse apartment downtown but he’s staying with them while he gets better.
I’m not sure it’s necessary, he is pretty resilient and seems okay to me but they want him there. Guess when you go through an ordeal like what him and Taylor went through, it trauma bonds you.
We’re quiet on the ride back to the clubhouse and go our separate ways once we’re back. For a hot minute I think of going to the bar to decompress like the others but decide against it and head home.
After a night like this, a few episodes of Vampire Diaries, a guilty pleasure no one will ever hear about, and a couple of beers in my undies is what I need.
I’m sure tomorrow will bring a whole new set of shit to deal with. Right now, I’m going to enjoy my peace.
Chapter Four
