We went inside the shed and headed down the rickety stairs, descending into the darkness of the basement. The scent of blood hung heavy in the air, and my senses came alive with each step closer to it we got.
Grunts of pain could be heard.
The ricochet of fist against bare flesh.
Boots scuffing against rib cages.
The splash of blood against the dirt floor.
Itook adeep breath, sucking the violence into my chest and letting myself suffocate in it.
The darkness began to dispel and the dim light reached to the furthest corner as we came into the center of the main room. Two Vipers were hung suspended from the ceiling by their arms. They were bare chested, blood trailing down their muscular chests from knife wounds and whatever other weapon had been used on them. Battle and Fighter were taking it in turns hitting the men over and over, their brass knuckles now dripping in fresh blood, grins on their faces.
Casa was bouncing on his heels, eager to join in, but Shooter stood silently, his intent gaze never leaving the two men in front of him. Fighter retrieved along, thin knife from one of the crates near him, his eyes meeting Shooter’sbriefly. Shooter nodded, and there was no mistaking the small smile on Fighter'sface as he turned back to one of the Vipers and crouched in front of him. He trailed the tip of the knife down the man’schest from sternum to belly button, and blood bloomed to the surface of his pale, sweat-slicked skin.
The Viper cried out, his face contorting in pain. Blood and spit trailed from his open mouth as the other Viper looked on in horror.
Leaning against one of the crates of whiskey that was stacked in the corner, Ilit acigar. Battle looked up at me, his eyes flashing with eagerness. He leaned in and said something to Fighter, who nodded and put the knife down.
“You got acutter for that?” Fighter asked.
Inodded and retrieved it from my pocket and threw it to him. Ionly used the cutter for my expensive cigars, and Ionly used my expensive cigars when Ihad something to celebrate. Today was not that day.
He took the hand of the skinnier Viper before sticking his finger through my cigar cutter.
“Please! Fuck, no, no…please!” he cried, but Fighter pressed down and snapped it shut quickly.
The finger came clean off, dropping to the ground at the Viper’sfeet, and he opened his mouth and let out an ear-splitting scream. Fighter visibly trembled, his chest rising and falling as he took another finger and slipped it inside the cutter.
Jolie had been standing in front of me, and Inoted how she looked both left and right before glancing over her shoulder to find me. She took two steps closer, her expression blank.
“Can Ihave one of those?” she asked, her voice almost timid.
Igrunted yes and pulled another long cigar from my cut before handing it over. Iflicked alighter and she puffed on it before releasing the smoke into the air. It was hot as fuck—her tanned hands with long red nails holding onto that thick brown cigar. God damn. When she turned back to face the Viper’storture, she took yet another step back toward me, so close now that Icould feel the heat radiating from her body.
“You okay?” Iasked, my voice quiet enough so that only she would hear.
She nodded, never looking away from what was happening in front of her. She was astrong woman, of that there was no denying, and she didn’tlike to show weakness—something which Icould understand wholeheartedly. But she’dbeen through alot, and Ifound myself worrying about how she would deal with the nightmares afterwards. Because there had to be nightmares. No woman was that strong. Right?
If this was what she had hoped to see when she came down here, she never said. But there was no denying the haunted look in her eyes when she turned around, the sound of the Viper’sscreams echoing all around us as Fighter took yet another finger. Iwas going to need anew cutter; that one was going to be blunt as fuck after this.
“Got anything to drink down here?” Jolie asked, her voice hoarse. My mouth watered as she took another drag on the cigar, her plump lips wrapping around the end of it.
Ireached over to one of the crates and pulled out afresh bottle of whiskey. We ordered them in by the crate-load, because well…we were men and men drank whiskey by the crate-load. Iunscrewed the lid, took along swallow of the fiery liquid, and then handed the bottle over to her.
“Thanks,” she mumbled as she tipped the bottle to her lips, swallowing three large mouthfuls with barely awince. “Idon’teven like whiskey,” she mumbled as she handed it back to me.
“That’safuckin’ sin,” Igrunted, and her mouth quirked like she wanted to smile.
Another scream echoed around us and her features went blank again.
“You wanna get outta here?”
Her eyes met mine and she took along breath. “Ishould be here,” she replied firmly.
Itook the cigar from her and leaned closer. “Let you in on asecret, Princess. There’salot of things that Ishould do that Idon’t. No one says shit to me about it. You wanna know why?”
“Why?” she asked, the single word sounding almost innocent.
“Because I’dgive ‘em hell, that’swhy.” Ithrew both of our cigars on the floor and ground them out under my heavy boot.
Her big brown eyes blinked up at me, her features soft despite the hard, untrusting edge to her gaze.
“Igot afeelin’ you can give ‘em hell alot better than me, so why do you care what any of these motherfuckers think?”
Her mouth quirked again and Ireached down for her hand.
“Come on, let’sget out of here.”
