Their Lasting Claim (Death Lords MC 5)

“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 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 thousandfold. 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 to 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 than 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 that 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 Abel and Mech will take the table and put it back in the church.

After we are done, we hightail it back to the Heinz’ garage where the poker game is still in full swing. The back room 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 Ten

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 but 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.”

“Not true.” Michigan growls. “I need you all the fucking time.”

“Same,” Easy says.

“Okay, but you don’t need need me. You’re fine without me.”

“Not fine.” Michigan shakes his head.

“Agreed. Would not be fucking fine at all,” Easy adds.

I throw up my hands. “You’re using me then for all your needs and wants, but hell, I’m using you back.”

“Hope so.” Easy leans down and kisses me. Even Michigan has a slight smile on his face. It’s kind of a ridiculous conversation.

“You three are dis

gusting,” Mom hisses but for some reason her insults make me laugh. Maybe it’s because she’s so obviously jealous.

“Then you should leave because you aren’t wanted here. And I’m not helping you get a penny of that money. I’d rather it rot in the bank than allow you to have a cent.”

She curls her lip. “I don’t regret leaving you and your father, not even for a minute.”

The barb hurts but it doesn’t dig as deep as it could have. Behind me are my men, the ones who’ll do anything for me. My mother left me; my father wanted me dead but the two men who warm my bed at night and watch over me during the day are worth all that stuff in the past.

“I don’t regret it either,” I say honestly. “Who knows what kind of person I would have turned into if I was exposed to your poison on a daily basis? Please leave now.”

Easy strides over and throws the door open. She huffs like the witch she is but finally leaves. We don’t even watch her after the door is closed on her butt.

Instead, Michigan and Easy follow me down the hall and when we’re inside the safety of our bedroom, I turn to face them. “Do I want to know what went down tonight?”

Michigan folds his arms and looks mulish, like a child who’s been caught doing something he shouldn’t have.

Easy, on the other hand, sits down on the edge of the bed and starts unlacing his boots. “We aren’t a bunch of Boy Scouts. Our patches aren’t earned based on how many old ladies we help across the street or how many different knots we can tie.”

“I know that,” I say quietly.

“It had to happen,” he says.

Behind him Michigan makes a low pained sound. His hands are fisted at his side and when I lift my eyes to meet his, I stumble back under the near physical blow the anguish in his expression delivers. He is so certain I’m going to reject him, and yet he carried out his actions regardless, believing in the rightness of his deeds.

I didn't grow up alone like Michigan and I didn’t have a big family like Easy. I’m not a member of any club. But I understand that these men would not sleep at night if they believed something existed out there that could pose a danger to me.