“Absofuckinglutely,” I said between gritted teeth. My bloodthirst wasn’t even nearly sated enough. I stepped forward, my gaze never leaving the man in the chair. I shook my head at the gun. “Won’t be needing that.”
I pulled out my knife from the sheath and held it in front of the man’s face. His pupils shrank when he saw it, and his shoulders began to shake.
“You can’t really have expected any other outcome,” I said to him.
“Please,” he begged, “I’m just like you. I was just following orders.”
I sucked my bottom lip into my mouth and sighed. “Just followin’ orders? Is that what killing my brothers and blowing up my clubhouse is to you? Is that what burning down an innocent woman’s world is to you?”
He lifted his chin, his bloodshot eyes meeting mine. He knew what was coming, and he knew that if he’d ever had a chance of walking out of this room alive, he’d just blown it. He’d signed his own death warrant with those words.
I reared back and slammed my fist into his face. I felt the bones shatter beneath my knuckles, and blood sprayed down him, splattering across the front of my chest. I felt a kind of satisfaction I’d never felt with every droplet that hit me, and before I knew what I was doing, I was hitting him again, and again and again.
No one tried to stop me.
No one spoke.
It was only once I finally stopped, and took a step back, that they moved wordlessly into action, covering him up with some sheets they’d found from somewhere, and began dragging him out of the room.
His blood dripped from my hands, and my chest heaved with exertion.
JD handed me a rag and then patted me on the shoulder. “Let’s move.”
We moved the bodies into the jet. Not to hide them, but to send a message to anyone who came back here. These menneeded to know exactly who they were dealing with. They had underestimated us and that was being corrected, right the fuck now.
We were back on the road within the hour and heading to the hotel the cartel member had given up. We were as silent, deadly force as we rode. A single line of men hell-bent on vengeance and pumped full of adrenaline.
The hotel was high-end and made of glass and marble. It spoke of money and was exactly the kind of place a cartel leader would hide in plain sight.
We changed clothes in the parking garage, slipping on porter uniforms and smart jackets. But there was no real hiding who and what we were—certainly if anyone took a second glance at any of us. Especially me. I’d wiped my hands and face clean of blood splatter, but I stank of death and violence—even I could smell it on my skin and oozing from my pores. I’d thought I’d feel more sated after killing that bastard, but all it had done was fuel my bloodlust for more.
We pulled our caps low and hid our weapons under our jackets, hoping that no one would look twice at us. We walked like we belonged, slipping in between guests and hotel staff, because that was the thing with a hotel like this—confidence was our camouflage.
We split naturally, heading for the elevators. The ride up was painstakingly slow. Each floor felt like it took an hour instead of seconds, but thankfully no one got in with us. The air felt thick like it knew what was coming.
We didn’t speak; there was no need. We all knew the plan, and we all had our orders. It was times like this that I knew where my heart and soul belonged the most, because in moments like these, the Kings were almost symbiotic with our movements.
One force. One man. One act.
The doors opened on the third floor and we got out. The hallway was quiet as we began stalking down the it, watching the room numbers ticking past us until we came to the right one.
JD nodded and we positioned ourselves, waiting for a count of three before we breached the room.
The door slammed open and gunfire exploded instantly. Men yelled from all directions, making it difficult for anyone to know where each voice was coming from. And as the gunfire ensued, the room quickly filled with smoke. The two prospects shot out the sofa, men's bodies turning to bloody pulps as they sat on it, feathers flying through the air as they exploded from cushions.
Confessor took out a guy by the window, sending him sprawling out onto the balcony. He followed him out, putting two more rounds through his head when he pointed at him and yelled.
Swampy was barging the bathroom door because someone had locked themselves inside. Finally giving up that route, he fired his shotgun at the lock and blew the door open before charging inside.
Two guards went down before they could even draw, and another tried to dive behind the couch but Moose dropped him mid-movement.
Someone screamed and another man lunged from the bedroom, but I fired and he fell instantly. A table was tipped over and men hid behind it, reloading weapons. There was a small bar area, and I could hear the crunching of glass from behind it as I stalked forward, JD at my shoulder. Moose and Bear had gone to one of the bedrooms but I didn’t need to worry about them, so I refocused every sense on the man, or men, behind the bar area.
The room had fallen silent except for the panicked breathing of men dying, and I felt a satisfaction in knowing that we hadcaught them so unaware that they hadn’t had a chance to harm another one of my brothers.
JD tapped me gently, pointing to the left-hand side of the bar, and then he broke off to go to the right-hand side. We moved almost silently, but just as we were about to round the bar, the sound of gunfire went off in the bedroom behind us and the world erupted back into sound again.
The man behind the bar stood up, firing off a round that skimmed my shoulder, but he didn’t get to release another as JD put a bullet through his skull.
