Dragon Royal Bastards MC (Tulsa, OK) - Page 25

“Nothing anymore,” Max hisses. “He’s restructuring or some bullshit.”

A niggling feeling tugs at my mind, trying to make me piece together this puzzle rather than losing myself to the violence of torturing the sonofabitch.

I have to get information.

The whole point of fetching his loser ass was to get answers.

“What did he use to do?” Cove asks, his tone turning dark.

Max attempts to back away from my approaching frame, but Katana has slipped behind him like a shadow. His back bumps against Katana’s chest as Cove seizes his bicep. The fucker isn’t going anywhere.

“Answer BP’s question,” I growl, spittle landing on Max’s face as I tower over him. “Now.”

“He videoed sex shit.”

My blood runs cold and the muscle in my neck tightens as I grit my teeth. “What does this guy look like?”

“Knight?”

A shudder ripples down my spine. “Tall?”

“He’s a giant.” Max nods rapidly. “They call him—”

“Night Giant,” I snarl, finishing for him.

“Yeah, that’s him. Can you let me go now? I told you his name and I can even tell you where he’s at.”

Yeah, Arkansas, not Tennessee, dumbass.

“We know exactly where that motherfucker is hiding out,” I growl in a deep, threatening tone, “which makes you one hundred percent useless to us.”

Katana senses my pending explosion seconds before Cove does, because he tries to stop me with a sharp shake of his head.

You can’t stop a volcano once it’s erupted.

Fiery hot lava and ash are going to consume everything.

Total obliteration.

With no warning, I drive my blade into Max’s gut. He lets out a shocked gargling sound. Before he has a chance to recover, I yank my knife out and hit him again, this time higher.

I want to pierce his organs.

All of them.

One by one.

I’m vaguely aware of the murmured words of both Katana and Cove, but I’m too fixated on my target to listen.

This fucker is running to the filthiest human on this planet.

Night Giant.

Grabbing hold of Max’s bloody shirt, I jerk him forward and toss him to the dirty floor. He cries out and starts to crawl away, but I’m the predator.

He’s weak, dying prey.

Mine to destroy.

Flipping him onto his back, I straddle his waist and rain my knife down over and over and over. Tearing and scraping and splattering. So many sounds coming from a human who can no longer breathe because I’ve turned his lungs to hamburger meat.

Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab.

I punch my blade through every piece of flesh I can, shredding his skin and making a violent, bloody mess of this worthless dickhead.

Over and over and over.

There’s a ringing in my ears that deafens me to anything but that sound. I stab Corsetti until he’s unrecognizable. I’m not sure how much time has passed, but he hasn’t been breathing for a while.

Still, I could go all night.

When I go to carve his eyeballs out, a hand grips my shoulder that’s soaked with blood.

“That’s enough, Dragon,” Cove murmurs, his sweet voice cutting through the ringing in my ears. “Katana is going to take care of the body.”

I blink a few times to chase away the daze. Max’s skin is cool to the touch, which means I’ve been at this a while. Suddenly, I’m overwhelmed by exhaustion.

“Come on,” Cove grunts, tugging on my arm. “Shower at the clubhouse. Prez’s ol’ lady will shit bricks if you go into the big house dripping Max meat all over the place.”

Hadley would murder me.

Well, she’d try.

And then I’d tell her to back the fuck off.

Prez would step in and all hell would break loose.

“Yeah,” I mutter. “Not looking to get my ass kicked tonight.”

Cove lets out a bark of a laugh. “Seriously? You actually think anyone would try to whip your psycho ass?”

I don’t register his words, just admire the way he says them. How his lips pout when he speaks but then curl into a smirk that makes me desperate to devour. My body thrums with the urge to strip him and fuck him and own him.

“Whatever you’re thinking,” Cove says, shaking his head, “don’t. I’m not interested in whatever your crazy head is cooking up right now.”

My grin is wide and vicious.

“It’s not like I’ll give you a choice, Baby Prospect.” I swipe my palm over my face, trying to smear off some of the blood. “We both know I’ll get what I want.”

Something flashes in his blue eyes, but it’s not fear. It’s something else entirely. Interest. Intrigue. Lust. I see it and I’m starved for it.

Before I can latch onto it, he storms out of the slaughterhouse ahead of me. I stalk after him, scenting his tantalizing masculinity somehow through the metallic blood smell.

He barely makes it across the yard before I grab his arm, twisting him around to face me. His blue eyes widen fractionally when he sees my ravenous expression. A tiny mewl escapes him as I seize his jaw in my bloody grip. Succulent pink lips part, just aching to be tasted.

Tags: K. Webster Romance
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