Jake’s Angel (King’s Of Fury MC #2)

Chapter 49

CHAPTER FORTY-NINE

JAKE

All the officers are here. Avery will be coming home from the hospital tonight, and I want this motherfucker to be dealt with before she gets here. She’s doing better, though her physical bruises and injuries will take longer to heal. I can help the emotional and mental scars to heal a little quicker by giving her the peace of mind she deserves.

We haven’t caught Eleanor or Cusenza yet, but we have this bastard and he’s about to pay the price for everything he’s done to Avery. He humiliated her and left his mark on her beautiful skin. It’s only fair he gets the same treatment.

I had Jameson commission his guy to build a special animal sized kennel for our special guest. He’s been stripped of all but his underwear. The thermostat has been turned down to fucking freezing for several days. He has minimal space to move around in and a metal collar with a short chain attached to the top corner of the metal enclosure to ensure he can’t lay down enough to get comfortable.

He wants to act like a deranged bitch. We’ll treat him like one.

The officers have all gathered this morning for church, but first we’re serving retribution for breakfast.

We’re standing outside the door leading down into the basement, awaiting orders. My body is alive with electric energy and anticipation.

“Men, we have a few things to take care of today, and since I know some of you are eager to get down to business, I’ll try to make this quick,” Gabe addresses us.

He turns to Pop, who lets us all inside. Pop takes his seat against the wall, leans forward and braces himself with his elbows on his knees, and nods. We make our way into the cell where Pop has the cocksucker stripped and strapped to a metal chair in the middle of the room. His ankles and wrists are shackled together and connected to a metal ring that’s mounted to the floor. He sat hunched in a ball like that all night after Pop took him out of his special cage we had made just for him. I can tell by the strain on his face and the shakiness of his body that he’s sore and exhausted. As if the cold wasn’t enough to break him, every time a prospect caught him trying to sleep, they were instructed to throw a bucket of ice-cold water at him, keeping him from ever finding any form of rest or relaxation.

“Jesus. How low did you drop the thermostat? It’s like a fucking meat freezer in here,” Ethan complains, rubbing his arms with his hands. Our guest’s teeth are chattering.

“Didn’t want the pig’s dinner to spoil in the heat.” A sinister smile spreads across Pop’s face, though he’s not joking. He is one hundred percent serious. When we’re done playing with our prey, he’ll become Liz’s pigs next meal. Those fuckers will eat almost anything, except teeth, it seems.

“What the hell happened to his face? Did you start without us?” Hawk whines.

“He and I had a very nice conversation last night about manners and how to be respectful when someone asks a question. Didn’t we, shit stain?” Our guest doesn’t respond. Declan and Jameson both snicker behind him. “String him up,” Pop orders.

“Wait,” Gabe interrupts. Down here in the basement, this is Pop’s domain. Gabe usually lets him run the show, but he has something special planned for this shitty excuse for a human being, so Pop lets him take the lead. Or so it would seem.

“Now, wait a minute. Boys, is this any way to treat our guest? Let’s get some warmth in here. I’m sure the poor boy is freezing. Dec, cut him loose and sit him up,” Gabe says, emphasizing the words poor boy just to get under the rich pricks skin. It works.

“I have m-more m-money than all of you p-pricks combined,” he stutters.

“Well, shit, Pres. Maybe we should hear what the little shit has to say. Maybe we can make a deal. If he’s got enough to go around,” Hawk suggests. Kyle’s eyes flicker with hope.

“Hmm. Maybe,” Gabe says. Sounding genuinely interested. “Prospect. Get him a bottle of water and a bite to eat. Bring him a blanket, too. He’s shivering, for Christ’s sake. Show some hospitality to our new friend. We’re not Neanderthals after all.” Pop snickers.

A smug, satisfied look crosses the prick’s face as Pop loosens the chain, allowing him to finally sit up. He thinks Gabe gives a shit about who he is and what he has to offer. Gabe acts as though he’s suddenly realized we’ve made a horrible mistake. It’s a false sense of hope, but it works to our advantage.

Blake walks in a few minutes later with a ham and cheese sub and a bottle of water, and places it on the table. He lays the blanket on the ground next to the chair and retreats to his spot by the door. The jackass covers himself, placing the blanket around his shoulders and starts wolfing down his food and gulping water like he’s half starved. I guess he is, since all we’ve given him until now has been bread and water. Nothing substantial but enough to keep him alive for a few days.

“I hope it’s to your liking. My apologies on the sandwich being all we had to offer, but this is the best we could do on such short notice,” Gabe states, watching him inhale the last few bites. “We had no idea who we were holding, or we would’ve had better accommodations provided for you.” Ethan chokes back a laugh at Gabe’s sarcasm.

“Where are my clothes?” the pissant asks, still shivering.

“Oh, well, it seems they got lost in all the commotion, and we’ve been so busy we haven’t had a chance to find you anything suitable. I’m sure we’ll find something to fit your body soon enough,” Gabe offers. “So, it seems you and my guys here got off on the wrong foot. I’m hoping we can remedy the situation, but of course I’m going to need your help to make things right. Maybe help clear up a few misunderstandings before we can begin our negotiations. You understand, don’t you? I need to be sure you’re truly worth what you say.” Gabe raises his hand as a gesture of surrender, like this was all a big mix up. One he can remedy with cash.

The cocksucker in the chair wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, and leans back, getting comfortable with himself. He thinks his money is going to buy his way out of here. “Where are my clothes?” he asks again, his voice a little shaky, I’m sure due to lack of food and how cold he must still be. He’s looking Pop in the eyes.

He’s getting brave now.

That’s going to cost him later.

“He told you. Gone,” Pop answers, a smug grin spreads across his face as he shrugs his shoulders. Hawk snickers where he sits straddling a chair at the end of the table, lifting the edge of the tablecloth that’s currently hiding Pop’s negotiation tools.

“Prospect. Go see if you can find mister …” Gabe starts.

“Whittmore. Kyle Whittmore,” he says, smugly, like it’s supposed to mean something to us. He’s been down here for days.

“Go find Kyle here something to cover himself up with. I’m sure we have something your size. How tall are you? Oh, you know what, never mind. We’ll find something to cover your body with.”

“Like a body bag,” Hawk says with a smile.

Gabe waves Hawk off. “Don’t mind him. Shit like this happens a lot around here. We’ll get you all taken care of soon enough.”

The asshole glances around the room, clearly feeling like he’s made some kind of small gain because Gabe is catering to his requests. But he still eyes Hawk with caution.

Not a complete idiot after all.

“Nice to see you’ve come to your senses,” Kyle says as he sits a little taller. His swollen lip and bruised cheek are making it hard for him to speak without a lisp, and I’m not sure if Hawk is going to make it through this thing without losing his shit and mimicking the fucker. He’s already putting his head down to hide his laughter every time the man speaks, especially when he’s trying to make himself sound like someone of importance. Hawk opens his computer and begins his search. Gabe asked him to find some specific information on Mr. Whittmore here for this little meeting of ours.

“Okay, so, Kyle,” Gabe starts again. “May I call you Kyle?” He doesn’t wait for a response. Gabe pulls a chair up in front of him, straddling it, bringing him closer to Kyle’s face. “What brought you into our little town?” Gabe leans his head in his hand over the back of the chair, making it appear as if this is just a friendly conversation between two friends.

Kyle looks around the room again, assessing his options. Seeing Gabe relaxed in somewhat of a nonthreatening pose, Kyle’s still feeling like he has the upper hand at the moment. He crosses his arms over his chest, leans forward and says in a low voice, “My boss sent me to collect an asset of his. It was recently taken from him.”

“Well, perhaps if you tell us what it is you’re looking for, we could be of some assistance.” Gabe stands up, moving his chair, then sits again, leaning back, crossing his arms over his chest, matching the cocksucker’s pose. “Who was it you said you worked for again?”

“I didn’t. But since you asked, I work for Marco Cusenza, perhaps you’re heard of him?” He raises a brow in challenge, as if tossing around Cusenza’s name will buy him some street credit here. I huff at his statement. Gabe smirks.

“We’ve heard of him, sure. He’s pretty big in gambling and other recreational vices. Am I right?”

“He’s the man who runs Baron’s Edge. Gambling, drugs, women, nightclubs, restaurants. You name it, he runs it.” This little shit isn’t too bright giving up all of Cusenza’s business like that. Either he thinks his association with a man like this will earn him some leverage with Gabe, or he’s just really that stupid. My vote’s for the latter.

“So, what is it exactly that was taken from Mr. Cusenza?”

“A woman. Avery West.” A low growl rumbles through my chest at the mention of my Angel’s name.

“I see. And you think she’s here in Oak Ridge, is that right?”

“Yes. We received a call from a woman telling us she was staying here with a group of bikers claiming to belong to one of them.” He turns and glares right at me. I smirk.

I wish you would, you little shit.

“We haven’t taken anything from your boss. We would never take a woman without her consent. Are you sure your information is correct?”

“She’s definitely here, and she’s mine,” he growls, lunging forward toward Gabe. Pop’s hands clench and his jaw’s tight. I can see the restraint it’s taking for him to hold back from tearing this asshole apart. Honestly, it’s taking the same effort for me not to have a go at him.

Gabe rubs his chin, then pointing a finger at the cocky bastard, he questions him, “I’m confused, Kyle. I thought you said the girl belongs to your boss. She was taken from him. But now you say she’s yours. Can you help me understand that?”

“She is mine. I came to collect her.” At his words, my fists clench, and a low growl leaves my chest. Pop catches my eye, giving me a subtle shake of his head, letting me know I need to cool my shit. “Mr. Cusenza asked me to grab her from her home one night, only when I arrived to collect her, she was already gone, and the security team assigned to the home were cleaning up a dead man’s body. It seems she ran away before I could get to her.”

“I see. Do you know what happened to the dead man? Who killed him?” Gabe asks. He’s having a hard time controlling his shit too, which makes me feel a little better about the situation.

At least I’m not the only one who wants to rip his fucking throat out.

“No. He was already dead when I arrived.”

“I see. Now, you claim the girl is yours. So, you’ll have to help me understand something. See, in our world, when a man claims his woman, he would never allow another person to touch her. In fact, one might say he’d die a very unpleasant death.” Gabe leans forward, the threat clear. Kyle leans back, creating some distance. “So, maybe you could help me understand why, if you’ve claimed her, you’d willingly capture her and turn her over to Mr. Cusenza?” Kyle’s eyes widen. He glances around the room at each one of us. We’re all stone faced and still watching the fucker closely.

Clearing his throat, Kyle says, “Mr. Cusenza needs her for leverage for a business deal. She’s the granddaughter to Russell West and my boss wants something of his.” He shrugs like it’s that simple. “Russell refused my boss his request, so he asked me to bring his granddaughter to him to use as a bartering tool of sorts.” He crosses his arms over his chest. He’s gotten comfortable, let his guard down just as Gabe intended.

Stupid fucker.

“What do you get when Russell does what your boss wants? There has to be more than just some pussy on the line for you, right?” I ask from my spot on the wall. Gabe shoots me a glare for calling Avery some pussy. “Unless … maybe she isn’t yours. Maybe Cusenza plans to keep her and pay you your money back.”

“She’s already mine. She was payment for another deal. A private deal made between her grandmother and me a long time ago. Cusenza was merely borrowing her.” He shrugs. “If Russell didn’t meet Cusenza’s demands, he would compensate me handsomely for her,” the fucker says, looking right at me. “She’s a beautiful little thing. Scares easily. She would turn him a good profit. I would break her in for him first, of course, but afterward she would be passed around to any man willing to pay the price. Do you know what men pay to have a young woman with fear in her eyes that they can easily break and mold?”

I’m fighting the urge to shove my fist through his face when I feel Declan’s hand on my shoulder, squeezing, reminding me we need to keep this conversation going. Let him think he’s winning. Like he’s actually going to walk out of here alive.

“She doesn’t seem in agreement with the terms of your negotiations. In fact, she ran away, which leads me to believe she strongly disagrees with your plans for her,” Gabe states, the threatening tone in his voice unmistakable, though the preppy asshole doesn’t seem to notice or maybe he just doesn’t care.

“Her opinion doesn’t matter. The deal has already been made. Avery has been mine since she was fourteen, whether she likes it or not, and I’m not leaving here without her.” He grits his teeth, attempting to sound threatening. Wanna bet?

Gabe’s lips curl slowly. A menacing glare has our guest squirming in his seat.

“Mack,” Gabe calls. Pop is moving around the room to the table where he uncovers his tools, running his hand over them slowly, inspecting each and every one. Kyle’s face pales. He swallows hard. Pop picks up a long blade and runs it over the palm of his hand, back and forth as if testing the blade against his own skin.

“String him up,” Pop orders. Gabe moves his chair back and sits in it, leaning his shoulder against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. Kyle jumps to his feet, looking for a way out.

“What? What are you doing?” Kyle shouts. His face turning white as a sheet and the quiver has returned to his voice, only this time it’s fear, not the cold that’s the cause. Hawk stands to his feet, rubbing his palms together in giddy anticipation.

Declan slams his fist into his face. Kyle shrieks like a goddamn girl. Declan then proceeds to shackle Kyle’s hands. He drags him, kicking, screaming, and now bleeding, across the floor to the back wall by his arms. Jameson grabs under Kyle’s arms, lifting his hands above his head while Declan, using a remote, lowers a large metal hook from the ceiling. Jameson, using the thick metal chain of the shackles, places his hands over the hook, clamping it shut nice and secure. Hawk binds his legs individually with a second set of shackles on the ground, leaving Kyle standing in nothing but his underwear, spread eagle for our torturing pleasure.

“Who’s about to get his cocky little ass beat?” Hawk singsongs. Each of us taps our fingers to our nose, symbolizing, not it. Hawk scrunches his nose at Kyle and taunts, “Ooh, you didn’t say not it, Kyle. That means you’re it!” He giggles maniacally.

Twisted bastard.

“You won’t get away with this! Do you know who I am? I have money! I can pay you! Whatever you want, just name your price,” Kyle shouts. His voice sounding a little muffled, probably from the blood and snot blocking his nose. Just for fun, Declan presses the button, lifting him slightly off the floor, pulling his legs taut, leaving just his toes touching the ground, no doubt making him feel like his balls could rip apart at any moment.

Wouldn’t that be a shame?

“My father is a very prominent man in Baron’s Edge, and Mr. Cusenza—he’ll be looking for me. He’ll send his people to look for me. If he finds out what you’ve done, he’ll burn this place to the fucking ground.”

“Wait.” Gabe says. “You’re important to Mr. Cusenza? Like his right-hand man?”

“I’m one of his top producing men. I run shipments.”

“What shipments?” Caleb asks, finally speaking up. “You mean the drugs in the warehouse on the harbor? The ones the cops seized two days ago.”

Kyle’s eyes widen.

“Cusenza is in the wind, Kyle. There was a huge explosion near his warehouse, and he bailed out.” Gabe’s tone is bored.

“The cops took everything and shut the warehouse down. All sorts of alphabet groups were crawling around the place, the FBI, DEA. The news lady was so happy she might’ve creamed herself over the breaking news story,” Hawk says, still tapping away on his laptop.

“You’re lying! He wouldn’t leave me to die. You don’t understand who I am. I promise he will pay you.”

He spins the screen, showing Kyle the latest video footage on the local news channel for Baron’s Edge. Kyle looks defeated.

“Oh, we know who you are, Kyle Christopher Whittmore. Twenty years old. Lives in Baron’s Edge. Graduated top of his class from Vantenburg Prepatory. Judging by where you’re currently hanging out.” Hawk eyes him up and down where he hangs from floor-to-ceiling in our basement. “I’m thinking Daddy bought your grades, because it’s obvious you aren’t too smart.” Hawk winks and the pretty boy growls, rattling his chains. “The youngest son and heir to one Michael Whittmore. Wealthy tycoon who owns the famous chain of Whittmore hotels.”

I step forward, putting myself front and center in the whiny little fucker’s eyesight.

“Who the fuck are you?” Kyle asks, snot and tears running down his face, tremors in his voice. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he’s seconds away from pissing himself.

“Oh, him?” Hawk comes around, poking his head between me and Kyle, motioning to me as he explains. “This here is Avery’s real man, and well, he’s a little pissed off about you scaring his woman and thinking she’s yours.”

A low growl comes from the back of the room. It’s Gabe.

“Oh, sorry, Pres,” Hawk says, stepping back, throwing his hands up in dramatic fashion. “Guess I should’ve let y’all talk about this privately first. My bad.”

He’s going to pay for that one.

Although I’ve already claimed Avery as my own, we haven’t formally discussed it nor put it to a vote.

“By the way, Kyle,” Hawk spins his head back to Kyle’s face. “Gabe here is Avery’s father. You know what happens when you fuck with a daddy’s girl? The only piece of his wife he has left in this world? His most precious baby girl?”

“She’s not yours! She’s mine! I’ve already ma—” I launch a fist into his ribs, causing him to yell out in pain before he can finish that sentence. He loses control of his bladder and pisses all over himself.

Pussy.

Kyle’s struggling to catch his breath. I land blow after blow to his body. He cries out when each punch connects.

Gabe stands up, tapping my shoulder. His eyes are narrowed in on me, then back to Kyle. He makes his way over to the table and starts running his hand over Pop’s tools. He’s not the guy to torture people, but this asshole doesn’t know that.

“Wh-what—what do you want from me?” Kyle stutters.

“You said Eleanor gave Avery to you as part of a deal. What was the deal?” Gabe asks. The look of recognition lights in his eyes, and quickly fades when Kyle smugly answers.

“If her mother had just done what she was told, instead of becoming your whore, she might’ve saved Avery from this fate.” The asshole decides he wants to poke the bear. He must think we’ll end this quickly if he pisses Gabe off.

Not a fucking chance.

Gabe grabs an ice pick from Pop’s table and jams it into Kyle’s thigh and twists, not bothering to pull it out. Kyle screams loud like the bitch he is. His body is thrashing in the shackles as he struggles through the pain.

“Motherfucker!” he shouts. The agony playing on his face is oddly rewarding to me, even though I’m not the one who put it there.

“Let’s try this again. What deal did you make with Eleanor West for my daughter?” Gabe asks again slowly, drawing out each word.

“She’s just a payment!” Kyle shouts. “She’s my down payment!”

“For what?” I shout back. He lifts his head, looking at me through his now swollen eye, and smirks for just a second, then seems to think better of it, eyeing Gabe standing next to me with another ice pick in his hand.

The fuck is wrong with this guy? One minute, he’s a screaming bitch. The next he’s smirking like a lunatic.

“Wait a minute. I’m confused,” Jameson, who has been silently watching, taking in every detail, speaks. “I thought Eleanor sold Avery to you. But you keep saying she’s a payment. So, which is it?”

Kyle’s groaning, trying to gain some composure and failing drastically. “To me,” he sputters. “Eleanor gave her to me. We made a deal,” he grumbles. “I gave Eleanor a good faith payment to keep Avery’s virtue off the market until we’re married. Once the wedding is over and the marriage is consummated, we kill the girl, and I get my down payment back. Eleanor gets half of everything she’s entitled to, and I get the other half Avery’s inheritance.”

I launch another round of punches alternating between his face and body, landing several hits to his ribs until I feel the sickening crack of his bones under my knuckles. He screams in pain, struggling to catch his breath, until he finally passes out.

Fucker.

“Looks like Kyle here wasn’t lying. He definitely works for Cusenza. He’s on the books as a floor manager at one of the nightclubs, Club Rush. Kyle’s not the most interesting piece to this puzzle, though. It seems his dear old dad owes Cusenza a great deal of money in gambling debts. Cusenza is becoming a partner with Michael Whittmore on his chain of hotels,” Hawk says.

“Where’s Michael Whittmore now?”

“In the hospital on life support. Has been since early yesterday morning,” Hawk replies. “He was admitted with congestive heart failure. Came in unresponsive and was placed on life support. Notes in the file say he has no prior history of any health issues.”

“He’s never had any issues and then all of the sudden his heart up and quits on him?” Declan asks. “Something doesn’t add up here, Pres.”

“He’s wealthy. Owns a hotel chain, right?” I ask “Who’s in charge of the hotels if something happens to dear old dad? All rich people have a will. Can you find his?”

Hawk’s fingers take off, flying across the keyboard as he does his thing. It seems like only seconds later we have our answer. “The hotel chain is being left to Kyle in the event of Michael’s death.”

“What about siblings?” Gabe asks.

“There’s no mention of them here. Everything goes to Kyle.” Hawk reads. “Hey, Pres. This will was updated five days ago, just hours before Michael Whittmore was admitted to the hospital.”

“My brothers don’t deserve my father’s money,” Kyle says, having coming to. He’s choking out a breath between each word. We all turn to face him. “They couldn’t handle our way of living,” he groans, the pain and struggle with each word written across his face.

Standing in front of him with his arms crossed, Declan asks, “What way is that? From what we see here, your pops owed Cusenza a shit ton of money. If he croaks, your family stands to lose everything in order to pay the debt back.” He digs his finger into Kyle’s chest.

“Except for you,” Jameson suggests. “You cut another deal with your boss. You marry the girl, inherit your father’s hotels, in exchange for Avery. You gave her to Cusenza to settle your father’s debts. Cusenza turns her out until she inevitably dies. Kyle here then becomes partners with Cusenza in owning his father’s empire. Kyle, as Avery’s widow, keeps his wife’s fortune, and since Avery would most likely be beaten to death while strung out on drugs, there’s nothing tying him back to Avery’s death.”

“You weren’t going to pay Eleanor off. You were going to cut out the middleman and keep everything for yourself.” Ethan deduces.

“Cusenza picked me because I have no loyalties to any of them. Not Eleanor, not even my father. His debts were his own, but half his empire will soon be mine.” I’m certain his ribs are broken by the bluish black marks swelling on the sides of his torso and the way he struggles to say his words. “Cusenza made a deal with my brothers to wipe my father’s debt clean if they signed over their share of the hotel business to us,” he grumbles.

“Hey Pop.”

“Yeah.”

“Can I see your Karambit?” I put my hand out and wait until I feel the balanced weight of the knife in my hand. I pick up Kyle’s right hand and start with the first finger and slice the skin away. Kyle is screaming in pain and blood is rapidly dripping onto the floor. I move to the next finger and the next until I have his entire hand peeled down to the bone.

Kyle screams so much, he nearly passes out, but Hawk, being the helpful brother he is, throws a bucket of ice water at Kyle’s face, keeping him awake.

I move to the second hand and repeat the same process.

“I wasn’t sure which hand you used to mark my woman’s skin with your handprints, so I took a guess at both.”

“You’re fucking insane.”

Walking over to Declan, I whisper in his ear, “I need to borrow your ring, brother.” Declan looks confused but takes his Celtic cross ring from his finger and places it in my hands. I walk over to the table and flick on Pop’s lighter, grabbing the ring with a pair of pliers, skimming the flame over the ring several times as I walk toward Kyle. His eyes, swollen nearly shut, but not enough to hide the fear behind them. He squirms, struggling against his restraints when he realizes what I’m about to do.

“Pres, did you know that Kyle here believed so strongly that Avery was his that he marked her body? Branded her with his initials. He attacked our girl with a knife, cutting into her flesh as he tore her clothes off her body. He laid her naked on the dirt while his friends held her bound to the ground.” Gabe’s head snaps in my direction, his eyes burning with rage. Pop reaches for the knife he was playing with earlier and hands it to Gabe.

“Where?” Gabe growls.

“One on her hip, where he cut her panties off her body. When she squirmed to try to get away, he slashed her.” Gabe takes the knife and cuts Kyle’s boxers from his body, leaving him naked before us. He takes the knife and slowly digs it into the skin of Kyle’s hip, dragging it down about three inches. Kyle screams out his pain, thrashing against the shackles. Blood runs down his leg, dripping from his feet to the concrete floor below. Declan uses the remote to tighten the slack, leaving no give in the chains that now tighten Kyle’s body as far as it can go without pulling limbs apart.

“The other one is on her inner thigh on the opposite leg, about four or five inches long. That one he did for good measure.” Gabe lifts the knife and repeats his slow, torturous movements as he cuts through Kyle’s inner thigh. Blood’s dripping down both legs, bright red flowing into a puddle underneath him. Kyle breathlessly tries to scream, but no sound leaves his mouth. Tears run down his face as he tries unsuccessfully begging us to stop.

I lift the ring up on the pliers before his face. “See this?” Kyle’s head hangs, his eyes are closed. He’s close to passing out again from the pain. “Look at it!” I shout. Kyle’s head lifts a little as his eyes try to focus on what’s before him. “Do you remember what you said to her, you sick fuck, when you burned your initials into her flesh with your ring? You told her you liked seeing your mark on her as a way for everyone to know that she belongs to you.” I push the ring, with its bright red heated emblem into his left hip first. The smell of burned flesh fills the room and I have to hold back the bile that’s threatening to rise in my throat. Kyle’s screams fill the room once again, and before he gets a chance to catch his breath, I place the ring against his other hip and repeat the process.

His head is thrashing back and forth. He’s yelling unintelligible words as he’s writhing in pain just before blacking out. Hawk grabs a bucket of cold water from the floor. We all move back as he launches it at Kyle’s face, waking him up.

“You can’t check out now, man. This party is being held in your honor,” Hawk smirks, backing up from Kyle’s nearly lifeless body.

I pick the ring up with the pliers again, grab the lighter, and begin heating it back up. “Do you remember where you left the last mark on her body?” I feel Gabe next to me, the anger rolling off him in waves as he’s trying not to take control of this situation. He knows this son of a bitch deserves every bit of what I’m dishing out for what he did to Avery.

“You put the last one right here.” I push the ring into the flesh just above his cock and press it in, twisting it as it melts his skin. I wrap my arm around his waist, holding him in place, making sure this one leaves a lasting impression. Declan prepares to lower the chains when Hawk shouts, “Wait!”

We all turn to see what he has to say. “Sadie would be so disappointed if we didn’t cut off his balls and put them in a jar for her.” He looks at Kyle, who’s barely hanging on, but alert enough to wince at his words. “She’s kind of partial to putting men’s genitals in glass jars. You don’t mind, do you? I mean, you won’t be using them anymore, anyway.” Hawk shrugs, playfully tossing a knife back and forth between his hands. That’s the last straw. Kyle blacks out.

Declan lowers the hook that’s been holding him, allowing him to partially collapse into me as I lean close and growl into his ear, “You didn’t break her, motherfucker. Avery is stronger than you could ever be, and she is mine.”

I let him go, dropping his body to the floor. I turn to give Declan back his ring and stand back by the table, trying to regain my composure. I’m not usually the one to torture a man. I prefer the quick death of a bullet, but he deserved everything we’ve done and more.

Gabe walks over to me and pats my shoulder. Leaning into my ear whispers, “You deserve her. What you just did for her proves to me you love her.” I nod my acceptance of his blessing. I’m caught somewhere between rage, relief, and excitement. It’s a whirlwind of emotions that I’m feeling at this moment, but all of it comes crashing to a halt when the sound of three gunshots goes off behind me, causing me to flinch.

I spin around, my weapon drawn, not sure what to expect, but definitely not expecting the sight before me. Kyle lays lifeless on the floor with one shot to the head and two to the chest. Pop and Gabe are both standing in front of him with their guns drawn and smoking.

“Prospect,” Gabe says calmly. “Get this piece of shit off King’s property and make sure no one ever finds his body.” Blake walks past Gabe with plastic rolls and glove covered hands. He and Austin make quick work of their cleanup job.

Justice has been served.