King's Reign (Sydney Storm MC 6)

Her eyes flicked to the guy, and whatever she saw there did the trick. Her body went limp and she stopped fighting me.

I kept my gaze trained on her. “You done?”

Her lips flattened, anger surrounding her, but she nodded and said, “Yes.”

Dragging her back to the chair, I shoved her down before turning back to the guy. “Now, can we agree to have a chat or do you need some further encouragement?”

Winter eased the pressure around the asshole’s neck when he nodded, but didn’t let him go completely.

“You had a visit from a guy called Brant this morning. Presumably, you sold him a gun. And after doing a little digging, we’ve worked out that you two have done business together before and have spent some time getting shitfaced with your favourite strippers. So what I want from you is every-fucking-thing you know about him and an address for where I will find him today.”

He stared at me. “You’re joking, right? Like I fucking know where he’s gone today.”

I stretched my neck to one shoulder and then the other. I also inhaled deeply and then exhaled while I contemplated how best to deal with him. Wasting time wasn’t high on my priority list for the day, but the idea of drawing this out had woken my monster, and now I wanted to dedicate some time to getting blood on my hands.

“I never joke,” I said, moving closer. Putting my gun away, I flexed my hands before making a fist and jamming it in his face. As he grunted and lifted his eyes back to mine, I said, “You wanna try answering my question again?”

His lip pulled up angrily. “Nah.”

“Fuck,” Hyde muttered as I took another swing at him.

Adrenaline coursed through me as my body hummed with the dark thrill the sight of blood gave me. I jerked my chin at Winter, indicating he could step away.

“Last opportunity, motherfucker. After that, I’ll beat the information out of you, and you’ll wish you just started speaking a whole lot sooner.”

“Go to fucking hell,” he spat.

I grinned, the beast deep inside me screaming to life for this shit. Torture and pain were my beast’s vices, and for the next ten minutes, I gave him what he craved. The asshole took blow after blow. He lasted longer than I figured him for. The crazy fucker. He was a skinny bastard with not a lot of meat on his bones, and he didn’t look like he’d stand up to much of a fight, but he surprised the fuck out of me.

Ten minutes and a whole lot of blood and broken bones, though, and he was done. Lying in a crumpled heap on the floor, he begged me to stop. “He’s probably at his place on Rutherford Street. He was raving on about setting up base there and that he figured his woman would like it there.”

Ivy.

Thank fuck she was okay.

That knowledge released some of the tension from my shoulders and neck.

Hyde stepped in and got everything he knew about Brant from him.

I was already focused on what was to come next.

The fucking end of all this bullshit.

We still had the feds to deal with, but once Brant was taken care of, I would breathe a whole lot fucking easier.

It was almost too easy to get into Brant’s place. For a guy who’d pulled off some intricate fucking shit, he sure as shit didn’t have his house well secured. It concerned me that this was perhaps a setup, but once we were inside and had spoken to Ivy, I came to the realisation we were simply dealing with someone who’d achieved his goals by sheer fucking luck.

Brant was out when we arrived. We found Ivy watching television, not a hair out of place on her head, completely surprised to see us. And pissed off that we’d forced our way into the place.

“Was it really fucking necessary to break the door down and scare the absolute shit out of me?” she demanded, glaring at me. “You could have just knocked.”

“Not if Brant was in here we couldn’t.”

She frowned. “Huh?”

“He’s not a good guy, Ivy. He shot a woman tied to the club and left her for dead. Where is he now?”

Her eyes widened. “Umm, I don’t know. He said he had some stuff to take care of.”