CHAPTER SIX
SKYLAR
Keeping Joseph pinned down, I watch as Rhodes picks up the pipe with a determined set to his jaw.
“I understand this is larger than your dick,” he says, a dangerous glint in his eye, “but you’re such a huge asshole, I’m sure you’ll adjust.”
Joseph’s pants and boxers are balled up next to us, so I do my man a solid and bend down to yank Joseph’s legs upward. Frowning because that’s just not the right angle, I decide to pin his thighs to the ground with my feet instead.
“Koen, you doing alright?” I call out, my eyes shifting to him. He releases a snore, making me sigh. I have wet wipes in the Jeep to wipe his face. I carry them to use after I pump gas. I hate the smell of it.
Since he’s fine for now, I glance down when Joseph releases a strangled scream. I release a long string of spit on his asshole to help, which is more than he deserves as Rhodes forces him to take the steel pole.
“Hmm. It’s not as easy as you thought it’d be, is it?” I muse. “You deserve all the misery. Unluckily for you, our team clocked you as a possible issue. That’s why we stayed behind when everyone else left. Come on now, Joe. Relax. Remember, this is what you were planning to do to my omega.”
Joseph can’t make any recognizable sounds anymore, and I roll my eyes as I watch Rhodes work. He may not top me often, but the alpha has moves. As soon as the pipe is a decent way in, he shoves it in and out of Joseph’s hole to keep the pain fresh.
There’s no way the beta is going numb. No, he’ll be feeling every single scrape of the rusty pipe as Rhodes fucks him with it. I’m not sure if Rhodes noticed the rust, but I’m taking great pleasure in knowing ole Joe is having all kinds of fucked up bacteria in his system.
Joseph begins to piss himself and Rhodes tosses me the knife as he jumps back. I smoothly evade the stream and castrate him before stepping off his body to enjoy the view. I doubt he’ll try to kick Rhodes at this point. His fight is going fast.
Tears streak his face, and I smirk, deciding that it’s not fucked up enough.
“Drugs are bad, Joseph,” I croon, kicking him in the face. I’m not a soccer player, but I have a wicked kick. I also love the sound of flesh beneath my foot. “Who’s your supplier? What? Oh hold on. I can’t hear you.”
He’s sobbing and red faced as his body writhes in pain. The hole where his cock was has blood and piss pouring from it, and I need him to feel as much pain as possible before I break his neck.
There’s a perfectly good dumpster behind us, and that’s where his grave will be.
“Let’s hear it,” I remind him, loosening the cloth around his mouth. “I want a name.”
Joseph inhales a breath to scream, and I shake my head as I drag the knife down his skin in reprimand.
“I’ll be getting that name one way or another,” I say. “Give it to me.”
“Harris Kilmour,” Joseph gasps.
“That’s what I’m talking about.”
Putting the name in my back pocket to find him, I get back to work. Bending closer, I begin to stab him repeatedly. His screams are getting softer as he loses strength and I glance at Rhodes.
“Time to go,” he agrees, getting up and kicking the pipe deeper inside Joseph.
Cleaning my knife on Joseph’s clothes, I pocket it to clean later before I break the bastard’s neck.
“Let’s throw him in the dumpster and I’ll go grab the Jeep. I’m honestly surprised the bartender hasn’t come outside,” I say.
I mean, it’s fortunate as fuck for us, but makes me wonder what the hell she’s doing inside.
“Grab his feet,” I grunt, picking up Joseph by the armpits.
“Zip ties?” Rhodes asks as he does as I say.
“Dime a dozen at hardware stores, but my handkerchief was embroidered by Mom,” I sigh, dropping him on his head to take it back.
What? The man is dead and can’t feel it.
For good measure, I check for a pulse once my handkerchief is in my pocket, content when I don’t find one. Together, Rhodes and I dump the body and toss the man’s clothes in with it.
