Their Private Need (Death Lords MC 3)

I jiggle the slider loose and enter soundlessly. I haven’t done a B&E forever but some skills you just don’t lose.

The house is silent. I find the necessary items in the first two kitchen drawers and lay those things on the table. I do a quick check of the front room and make sure the door is locked. We don’t need anyone busting in while we’re busy. I walk softly with one foot behind the other like a fox, testing each board to make sure that there are no sounds. At the top of the stairs are three doors and the light under the left one is the only clue I need. After I lay down the big black trash bag, I pull my sleeve over my hand and turn the knob. Pastor Bloom is lying on his bed, his hand on his withered dick watching lesbian porn. How predictable.

“Sorry to interrupt your ‘me’ time, but we’ve got some old business to address,” I say cheerfully. I walk over to the bed and pick up the remote he’s fumbling for in the covers. Sitting down on the side of the bed, I scroll throw his download history. “You know this shit is free on the internet.”

“Get out of here,” he bellows. “This is breaking and entering. It’s illegal.”

“Are you even supposed to be watching porn? You’d think that would be a violation of your bail or something. They don’t have porn in prison. At least not this kind.” I wipe the remote off and throw it to him.

He grabs for his cell phone but I beat him to it. I pop out the SIM card and stuff it in my pocket. Might come in handy later. Never know.

“Get up,” I order. “The Lord is judging you today.”

“Don’t use his name in vain,” he spits at me.

“That’s rich coming from you, Pastor Bloom. Now seriously, get your fat ass off the bed and downstairs.”

His eyes dart around and settle on the closet. He must have a firearm in there. Pastor Bloom is not a small man. He’s about my size, but I’m at least twenty years younger and I work out every day. He lunges for the closet but an easy extended leg has him falling face down.

I grab the back of his head and slam it back into the floor. Blood spurts out from his broken nose.

“Shit. Michigan’s going to be mad I started without him. Best if we go downstairs now.”

“Fuck you!” Pastor Bloom curses and tries to roll over but I’ve got my foot on his neck.

“My dance card’s all full but thanks for offering.”

I give his head another good slam and then drag him onto the black trash bag for easy transportation. He thrashes a bit on the plastic but that just makes his trip a little more bumpy. When we’re on the first floor, I haul him to his feet. He’s dazed and it makes it easy for me to push him out of the sliding glass doors and then down into the cellar. He trips down the four steps, unable to catch himself because there are no railings, and he tumbles to the ground face first into the compacted dirt floor.

Michigan steps out of the way to avoid getting struck by the falling body.

“You will never get away with this,” Pastor Bloom gasps as we pick him up by his two arms and drag him over to the table. It’s a table similar to the one we’d found Annie on. After we rescued her we learned that it was one of the folding tables that the church used for potluck and bingo games. “I did this for Annie’s own good so that she could receive forgiveness from her sins and seek the Lord’s love.”

“I don't know about you Michigan, but his mouth is getting on my nerves.”

Michigan reaches down and pulls the strip of already torn duct tape off the table and slaps it across Bloom’s mouth as I hold his head firmly in my hands. He wriggles around, thrashing on the table like a beached fish.

“You should be grateful that we’re in a time crunch here because if it wasn’t for having to get back to our poker game, we’d have spent more time on you.”

He shouts something back at us which is probably you’re going to hell or you’re damned.

I hand Michigan the butcher knife from the kitchen and he runs a finger over the blade. “Not very sharp.”

“Nope, it’ll hurt a bit.”

He glares at us and struggles more, the table rocking back and forth under his weight. We roll him over so he’s belly down, just like Annie was. We affix one hand to a leg of the table and then the other and then repeat the action with the his ankles.

Michigan slides Pastor Bloom’s belt off. “When I came and found Annie there was barely a patch of her skin that was untouched by your love. It was just strips of skin and blood and muscle. What’s the Bible say? Ask and you shall receive, pressed down, shaken together and overflowing?” He leans closer to whisper in Bloom’s ear. “You asked for us to come to you when you brought the belt to Annie’s skin. And we’re going to give it back to you a thousand fold. I’m only sorry we can’t draw it out longer.”

He raises the belt and brings it down. It makes a satisfying thunk when the leather strikes skin. Michigan lashes him ten more times and then it’s my turn. I use the kitchen knife instead. I make shallow cuts all over his legs, arms and back.

The police will want to pin this on us. No burglar comes in and tortures the inhabitants, but our alibi will be rock solid and when the news comes out everyone will know that to touch our woman means a slow and painful death.

We cut the tape off and set him upright in one of his kitchen chairs. Michigan douses the table with bleach to be on the safe side.

Pastor Bloom’s head is listing the side. I toss a little water in his face. Passed out means he can’t feel the pain and then where’s the retribution.

“Bloom, you still with us?”

“F-f-fuck you,” he slurs out.

I tsk my tongue. “Such blasphemy and right before you go and meet your maker.”

Michigan squats down and tilts Bloom’s head up with a knife. “What were you planning to do with Annie down here after you beat her? Rape her? Really show her who had power?”

“She needed to contemplate her relationship with the Lord and seek his forgiveness.”

“And that couldn’t be done without you beating her within an inch of her life?” His voice is dangerously low, dangerously quiet but Pastor Bloom doesn’t see the warning signs.

“I’d rather have her dead that see her fornicate with the two of you.”

“You’re going to get your wish about one thing. You won’t see her fornicating with us.” He sticks the knife in Bloom’s belly and drags it across. Bloom falls forward, clutching his gut wound. With a cut the deep, he should bleed out in under ten minutes.

I check my watch. “We should be getting back.”

We haul Bloom back to the kitchen and tie him to a chair. The back door is kicked in and we take our time smashing shit so it looks like a good break in. Later tonight Able and Mech will take the

table and put it back into the church.

After we are done, we hightail it back to the Jenkins garage where the poker game is still in full swing. The backroom is so hazy you could cut the air with a knife.

“Took you long enough,” Judge says as I slide into my chair.

“Had to go number two.”

Chapter Thirty

Annie

The men come home with wet hair and faces scrubbed clean. Mom raises her eyebrows at me.

“Looks like your men had a good time tonight. It was one of your special clubhouse nights, wasn’t it?”

But what happened tonight has nothing to do with women. I can see it in their eyes. They both look worried but determined.

“I’m tired,” I say. “Let’s go to bed.”

“You’re a fool, Annie,” Mom interrupts. “These two are cheating on you before your very nose.”

Michigan’s hands fist into tight balls. I don’t look away from my men. They’d cut off their dicks before they’d stray from me.

“You need to leave,” I tell her.

“What?”

“You should pack up and leave. I don’t want you here. I don’t want Father’s money and most of all, I don’t want you to have it. Just go.”

“I’m not going anywhere.” She stomps her foot.

I finally shift toward her and the men stand at my back. They are two strong towers, but they need me right now. “No one wants you here. Not my men and not me.”

She opens her mouth but I don’t let her get another poisonous word out. “You have five minutes or we’re throwing your stuff on the lawn.”

Mom huffs and puffs for a few moments but faced with the three of us, she has no choice to go into her bedroom and pack up. This time Easy just watches as she struggles with one and then the other suitcase.

“You are making a big mistake,” she says. “These two are using you.”

“For what?” I’m bewildered. “They could get sex from anyone. They have jobs and friends and family. They don’t need me.”