Nitro's Torment (Sydney Storm MC 2)
I stared down at him, wondering just how long I’d have to draw this shit out. As much as I could inflict pain all night long, I was aware the cops had increased their nightly sweeps of the city in the last week, so I needed to move this along.
I moved his hands above his head so I could pin both of them to the ground with one of mine rather than both, and then reached into my pocket for my phone.
Pulling Devil’s number up, I dialled him. “Get me that photo of his bitch. And draw some fucking blood for it.”
“On it.” The line went dead and he left to take care of my request.
I met the asshole’s eyes again. “You might be willing to die, but let’s see if you’re ready to let us chop your old lady up.”
His hard eyes held mine, probably calculating his options. They then narrowed and he said, “You’re full of shit. You do that or kill me, my club only escalates this further, and your club is down so many members you wouldn’t be able to win that battle.”
His club, the Silver Hell MC, had spent the last three months exacting revenge on ours for King, our president, killing one of their members. King had killed him because he’d hurt King’s sister. But their revenge had involved far more than simply going after King or our members. They’d also gone after our families, hurting them any way they could. The truce they’d called for last week wasn’t one we were interested in.
I hissed. “What you’re failing to realise here is that King declared war today. You thought we’d accept your truce? No fucking way. You’ve no idea who he’s called in, but I’ll tell you now that our numbers have been more than replenished. And one other thing… you should have known that no one fucks with King and gets away with it.”
I let go of his hands and slid myself down his body so I could grab his dick. I then scored my blade along the length of it. Not deep, just enough for blood to pool.
“Fuck!” he roared, trying unsuccessfully to fight me. “King doesn’t give a shit about you. He’s built that club full of members who do his dirty work, and it’s all for his own gain. When are you going to wake up and see that?”
I cut into his dick again. His body jerked underneath me while he continued to battle me for control. “When are you going to wake the fuck up and see that King gets his hands dirtier than any of us could ever dream of? And what he’s built is an army of soldiers, willing to fight to the fucking end.”
My phone buzzed with a text and I smiled when I saw the photo Devil had sent.
Blood and tits all wrapped up in extreme terror. This guy didn’t need to know we’d never make good on our threat to harm his woman. He also didn’t need to know the amount of blood in the photo was exaggerated by Devil smearing a small cut worth of blood over her skin.
The end justifies the means.
I leaned forward, pushed my hand against his chest to keep him down and shoved the phone in his face. “You ready to lose that?”
His chest heaved with heavy breath after heavy breath. Finally, he broke. “Room 1242.” Regret and fury spewed out of his mouth along with his tip-off.
“What the fuck is that?”
“That’s the room he’s staying in tonight.”
“Where?”
“Here.”
Fuck, so close.
I stared at him and saw the moment he realised where this was heading. Sitting calmly atop of him, I moved my knife from his dick, ready to rid his club of another member.
He thrashed under me, trying like hell to buck me off.
It was that fight I loved the most.
That last ditch attempt to cling to life while I took his last breath.
2
Tatum
“When I Go” by Keaton Simons
Numbers.
My days drifted past in a sea of numbers.