The idiot spits at me, missing my face but hitting my boots. “Seems someone wants that boot up his ass,” Atticus taunts.
“Yeah, I’ll let you have that one when I’m not around,” I reply, hauling my fist back and punching him in the gut. I barely manage to move before the fucker is puking all over the place.
“You’re cleaning that up,” Atticus states.
“Good thing we’ve got a drain down here and a hose then, huh?” I state. “So, asshole, why are you looking for that shitstain?”
He glares at me but doesn’t answer. “We can go all night,” Atticus says, backhanding the dead man sitting. I watch as the man’s lip splits right down the middle and blood spews down his chin coating the top of his shirt in crimson, the metallic smell permeating the air.
“Not wanting to hear about your sex life right now,” Silas growls. I chuckle a bit even though finding this asshole with his hands on Raven still has me seeing red. Leave it to my brothers to unintentionally lighten the atmosphere. I know that this whole Laurel and Hardy act is for my benefit and not the man who’s unwillingly strapped to a chair in our basement.
Silas sighs before going over to a bench that has various… weapons… we’ve accumulated for times like these. He grabs a pipe wrench and walks towards Mr. Shit for Brains, smacking the pipe against his hand. “This is gonna hurt,” he advises before swinging it against the inside of the guy’s knee. I internally cringe, being on the receiving side of Silas’ swing growing up, I can tell you it hurts like a son-of-a-bitch. I wouldn’t wanna be him right about now.
His bloodcurdling scream makes me glad that we went ahead and soundproofed this room. We sure as fuck don’t need three females running down to see what we’re up to. I glance at the door and Atticus nods, saying, “It’s locked, bro.” I nod at his words before going back over to the goon and reaching into his pocket for the wallet I saw.
Opening it, I find a license and want to laugh out loud when I see his name. “Shawn Cassidy? Wasn’t that the name of some movie star or some shit?” I muse. I don’t really give a fuck, but I want this asshole to talk.
He mumbles something and I reach out and pull his head back. “Say again? Couldn’t hear you the first time, fucker.”
“My mom was a fan,” he replies. I laugh harder at his pussy ass name. I bet he got his ass kicked growing up and was the brunt of everyone’s jokes.
“Bet he got a lot of shit for that growing up,” Atticus says. It’s almost as if my brother was reading my damn mind… freaks me the fuck out when he does that shit.
“No doubt. I think he sang or something too,” Silas adds. Figures, a fucking seventies star no less, if memory serves.
“Still not talking, huh?” I ask, swinging the pipe wrench I took from Silas against the other knee, grinning when I hear the unmistakable crunch of his kneecap shattering. I might not always participate in the hands-on stuff, but this time, all bets are off. He touched my woman! And that is something that is unacceptable. I will make a motherfucker bleed for that thought, let alone carrying out the act of doing so.
“I have no information for you!” he screams, tears pouring down his face. Gotta hand it to the pussy, he hasn’t pissed himself—yet.
“Oh, I’m sure you know something,” I taunt. “There’s some reason you were going after Raven. What is it exactly that you were after?”
“I wasn’t looking for anything, I swear!” His speech is somewhat garbled thanks to the busted lip, but we can still understand him. And I don’t believe him for one fucking minute.
“Then why were you at her house?” I ask, my tone deadly. Fun and game time is over; I want fucking answers and I want them now. I know I heard this fucker say something about money and wanting his then and there when he had his hands wrapped around Raven’s throat. I think it’s time to make him spill all of his secrets. I pick up the blowtorch and hand it to Silas. He sparks it after messing with a few gadgets and it fires up. I see Mr. Cassidy shake and visibly shiver in the chair. It’s a hardship on my behalf to have to hold back the laughter that wants to spill free from me.
“Sinclair owes me money, alright?” he screams. “I figured I could get it at the house, I know he doesn’t really use banks!”
Yeah, I’m sure he doesn’t like banks. Hard to explain to Uncle Sam how he’s depositing all of the illicit gains he gets from the shit he was involved in.
“What are you waiting for, Silas? Let that baby burn and do what it was designed to do,” I all but demand. I watch my brother go over and carefully, oh so carefully, burn the asshole’s clothes off until he’s sitting there in a pair of tighty whities. I’m always impressed by my brother’s skills with the blowtorch. The fucker has some burns on his skin, but nothing too horrific. I mean, I see the beginning of a few blisters forming on his skin, but it’s not to the point where I’d take someone I care about to the hospital.
He’s a scrawny motherfucker and it’s obvious from the scent wafting my way that he doesn’t much care for soap and water. Personal hygiene must not be something he learned while growing up. Of course, some of the smell could be from the burnt skin and material. “Thinking he needs a bath, guys,” I state, going over to the firehose we appropriated. Turning it on, I then spray him down until he’s sputtering and yelling. Atticus gets involved, squirting some dishwashing soap on him while Silas has a spray bottle full of bleach and is spraying him down. I hit him again with the firehose and can’t help but laugh when the water and my brother’s cleaning chemicals hit the burns. He screams while bubbles dance in the air. “He’s good and clean now, dont’cha think?” I ask my brothers.
“Yeah, had to get rid of the stink and disinfect those burns,” Atticus replies.
“Others can’t say we’ve never done anything nice for someone else,” I joke around with my brothers. Then, I change my tune and put on a serious face as I turn and speak to the piece of shit. “Do you know what we do to assholes who put their hands on a woman?” I question Shawn. I can tell he’s shocked by my conversational tone, given the fact that we’ve made him puke, burned him, and busted his kneecaps, but I’m trying something different.
He doesn’t say a word, opting to glare at me instead. “Answer him, fuckwad,” Silas growls. I can tell he’s getting impatient and just wants to finish this fool, but I honestly want answers.
“I could guess,” he mumbles breathlessly.
“I don’t think you can,” I return.
“W-what do you do?” His stuttering is comical, since he was the one who thought he was man enough to lay hands on my Raven.
“Well…” I begin, but Silas stops me by placing his hand on my chest.
“I’ve got this one, brother,” he says to me. Atticus leans back against the bench and picks up a knife. He looks down at his nail beds and begins cleaning his fingernails like it’s another day in the life of Atticus Nelson.
“You good?” I ask him as I walk over and stand next to him.
“Yeah. Schooling people bores the fuck out of me. I always have to find something to do while Silas gives them the what for.” He shrugs his shoulders and I’m a bit dumbfounded that this happens more often than not.
“How many times does Silas get informative?” I question him.
“More often than not,” he sighs dramatically.
“Here’s what you need to know, fucker,” Silas states. “I’m not in the mood to give away all of my secrets. Men like you will never change, so why does it matter what we like to do as far as punishments go? I like to be mysterious, so I’ll let you sit and ponder what all is going to happen to you. But let me make one thing clear, we don’t hurt women. Ever. Pieces of shit like you who think it’s okay to do that deserve everything they get and then some. Today’s your final exam. Newsflash, you’ve already kinda failed and the end result will be your demise. But before that, we wanna know what your place in Sinclair’s operation was. Your time to talk starts now,” he says, starting a timer on his watch.
I’m in
absolute awe of my brother right now. He manages to command a room with just his presence, and I can see how his words have affected Shawn by the wet stain gracing the front of his tighty whities.
“And...he pissed himself,” Atticus announces. “Only took thirty minutes this time, we’re improving.”
“Why should I tell you anything if I’m gonna die anyhow,” the asshole asks.
“Because we can make you hurt for a long time until you talk,” Silas replies. “Days, weeks, months, doesn’t matter to me, does it to you? The room is soundproofed so we don’t have to worry about any interruptions and well, we’re creative fuckers. Plus, there’s always google if we get stumped.”
Jesus fucking Christ. “Silas, if we need to research anything, let me do it so the browser history is wiped at least,” I state. If he does it, we’ll have every initialed agency knocking on our door.
“Why? You afraid the FBI is going to research my phone? You are paranoid, baby brother,” he tells me.
“Not paranoid, safe,” I reply.
“We shouldn’t need google, this fucker’s gonna talk. Right, Shawn?” Atticus says, his voice a cross between a growl and a purr. Never heard it before, but it has the hairs on my arms standing up. Fuck, my brothers are lethal as hell.
But something in Atticus’ voice has captured Shawn’s attention. He opens his mouth only to close it several times before he darts his eyes my way and Silas’. “I’m not much of a talker,” he finally responds. But the look on Atticus’ face tells me that was the wrong answer. “What do you want to know?” he questions, his voice resigned. “I swear to God, I don’t know much. I answered to Saul. He is...was...Sinclair’s second-in-command. So I did what Saul asked. Sinclair owed me money for a job, and we haven’t seen or heard from him in weeks. I figured his wife was in the know so I tried to talk to her at the grocery store. But he,” he states, pointing at me, “interrupted us. That’s why I went to their house. Everyone knows that Sinclair keeps a shit ton of cash at his house and I wanted to get what was owed to me.”
“And how’s that working out for you?” I inquire.
“Uh, not too good,” he admits. I mean, short of him taking his last breath, which he will be doing at some point, he’s kind of fucked.
“Saul said that Sinclair put all the businesses in his wife’s name,” he offers. I know he thinks if he spills all his secrets it’ll save his life, but that’s just not gonna happen.
“Not so much any more,” I reply. “There’s nothing out there connecting her to his...enterprises. Other than hearsay, of course.” No reason not to tell him since he has no one he can share that tidbit with.
“Saul won’t stop,” Shawn warns. “He’ll keep pushing until he finds out what happened to Sinclair and he gets his money.” Interesting information, we knew that Sinclair left some things undone, we just weren’t aware that he hadn’t paid for services. That didn’t show up in any research nor surveillance.
Great, another fucker to hunt down and grab. Looks like we’ll have more work to do after all. “And where is Saul?” I ask.
“Probably at his house. He doesn’t think anything will happen to him because of who he is in Sinclair’s organization.”
“Where is this house?” Silas inquires.
“Uh, he lives on the west side in that new gated community. Shadow Creek Estates, I think.” I pull out my phone and start a search, grateful that I upgraded enough that I can keep anything I do a secret from prying eyes.
“Got it,” I state. I can easily break the codes and enter the gates that surround the community with no sweat forming on my nuts. Easy as that.
“Let’s go for a little ride,” Silas says.
“What...what about me?” the fucker asks.
“You’ll keep until we get back,” Atticus replies. “See ya when we see ya, fucker.”
As we leave, we turn out the lights. No sense in wasting electricity on a talking dead man.
SEVEN
RAVEN
I have no clue where the guys went, but it’s almost time for Damien to be picked up and I’m starting to worry. I’m sitting in the kitchen with Piper and Destiny, listening to them go back and forth about things I don’t know about and quite frankly, don’t care to know.
When Jonas comes into the kitchen, I stand and say, “I’ve gotta go get Damien, Jonas. It’s almost time.”
“I’ll ride with you.”
“We’ll take care of that other errand,” Silas states, walking over to Destiny. “You okay?” I hear him whisper.
“I’m good,” she whispers back. It makes me feel as if I’m an intruder during a private moment I shouldn’t be privy to.
“Jonas,” I say clearing my throat. “We really do need to be leaving,” I state. I watch as his eyes have a strange look as he watches his brother and Destiny. Strange. Makes you wonder if Silas isn’t as nice to others as he is to her.
“Uh, yeah. Let’s go.” He turns towards Atticus and I see a head nod from him, then Jonas returns it.
When I go to get into my car, he shakes his head and motions towards his. I grab the sign I need to have from my car in order to pick up Damien, and get into the passenger seat. “Do you know how to get there?” I ask.
“Yep,” he replies, putting the sign in the window. The fact that he knows to do that lets me know he’s been watching me more than just at my house and the ‘run in’ at the grocery store.
“How did you know to do that?” I question. I want to hear him say it out loud and prove my suspicions right.
“Raven, I’ve been watching for a while now,” he replies.
“But why?” I know it has something to do with the fuckwad I married, but I still need him to reiterate and expand on his earlier explanations.
“Because ever since I saw your picture, I’ve been attracted to you.” I have to check the mirror on the visor and make sure my jaw isn’t touching my chest. Did he really just say that he found me to be attractive? No one’s ever said that to me. But then again, I haven’t had the healthiest of relationships.
Huh. Sure as fuck wasn’t what I expected to hear. “From a picture?”
“Yep.” I find it a highly attractive attribute of his...he tells it how it is regardless if you like the answer or not.
“I see.” I don’t, not really. They say a photograph is worth a thousand words, but in my personal opinion, you can’t catch someone’s true beauty from a picture.
“You don’t, not really, but I promise you will,” he states, reaching for my hand.
I feel a spark of electricity at his touch. It’s been a long time since anyone other than my son has touched me and I’m not sure how to react. I’ve been fighting a physical attraction to the man since I saw him in the store parking lot, but I’m not sure if I have the strength to fight it if he keeps igniting flames where there’s never been any before.
“What are you thinking over there?” he asks me.
Suddenly my mouth is parched, and my lips are dry. “No-nothing. Just hoping we make it in time to pick up Damien.”
“If your face flames and cheeks heat at thoughts of your son, I’ve got a lot of work ahead of me.” He chuckles and I want nothing more than to slap his shoulder.
“That’s really not funny,” I pout as I cross my arms over my chest.
“You’re cute when you get all flushed.” His words have a blush crawling from my cheeks all the way down my chest.
“Stop embarrassing me!” I all but scream in the enclosed vehicle causing my words to echo in my ear.
“Baby, I’m not trying to. I think it’s whatever you’re thinking about that has you all discombobulated.” A small smile escapes my lips with the use of his big boy word.
“Big word there, mister,” I state my thoughts out loud.
“Word of the day calendar,” he teases. I can’t help but allow a chuckle to escape me at the thought of him having a word of the day.
“Can’t wait to hear what tomorrow’s is,” I mutter.
“Oh, I’m sure I’ve got words for you, Raven,” he replies, giving me a wink. I have to cross my legs when his tone comes out as a purr. His voice alone could give me an orgasm better than any I’ve ever experienced.
I’m about to reply when I see we’ve made it to the hell that is the car rider line. “I hate how they do this,” I state. “It’s so unorganized I wanna scream sometimes. People don’t merge properly or anything.”
“We’ll see about that, my car’s bigger,” he says, maneuvering around several cars until we’re closer to the front. Several folks honk at him and he flips them off. All the while my hand jumps up and hangs onto the oh-shit handle.
“We’re not going to have a wreck going two miles per hour,” he teases me.
“I’m not sure that I trust one of these moms not to go all road rage on you.” And that’s no lie! I’ve seen these moms have fender benders while trying to jump in front of each other in line...freaks me the fuck out.
“Let them try. My vehicle’s bigger and I can fuck their lives up in mere minutes if they push the issue.” Say what now? I harshly and quickly turn my head in his direction when the last word spoken leaves his lips.
My jaw drops at his words. “What?” Surely I didn’t hear what he said correctly.
“Honey, I’m more than good looks. I’ve got skills.” I bet. When that thought enters my head, I slap my hand to my forehead...bad Raven. Don’t go there...he’s protecting you, not exterminating the cobwebs formed between your legs.
I go to respond but we’ve pulled up to the front of the line and the teacher calls out for Damien after checking the sign I put in the front window. The back door opens and Damien piles in. “Cool car! Is Scooby okay?” Leave it to my kid to break the awkwardness I’m suddenly feeling.
“He’s fine, bud. We’ve got him settled at our house,” Jonas replies. Then he whispers, “You’re blushing again, sweetheart. Was it something I said?”
“Not now,” I practically shout out at him.
Seeking Our Forever: Nelson Brothers' Page 5