by Jenika Snow
Glaring over at the twins, she shook her head. “Why did he have to go?”
“In case you didn’t know, the Soldiers wait for no one. There’s a threat, and we’re not going to wait around for them to come knocking at our door. We fuck them up, we don’t get fucked,” Reaper said.
The twins did some kind of fist bump, which left her shaking her head.
“This is crazy.”
“This is life, babe. It’s the life of a biker, and you’ve just got to realize that is the way it is. No point pacing that sweet ass,” Grim said. He patted the seat beside him. “Come sit and relax.”
“I can’t relax knowing he’s out there.”
“Do you really love him?” Reaper asked.
“Yes.”
“Like totally, blindly, fucked up kind of love?”
She stared at Reaper, waiting for him to get to his point.
“Seems a little fucked up to me. You are step siblings.”
“Shut up.” She was panicking. “We’re not blood related, we never were. He’s not my brother. I love him with my whole heart, and I would do anything for him, I’d even die for him—” Before she could finish speaking what sounded like an explosion surrounded her.
Glass shattered and burning fire erupted in Bridget’s shoulder, tearing through her and causing her to cry out. Had she been shot?
Grim covered her body as Reaper ran out the door. She heard commotion, shouting, and noise. The fire in her shoulder was just too much, and tears tracked down her cheeks.
“Are you okay?” Grim asked. “Fuck, you’re hit.”
He placed his hand on her arm, and she screamed at the agony.
“This is not good. Not fucking good.”
She watched as a man kicked down the door, a gun in his hand, and clearly not caring if anyone heard or saw what he was doing. Reaper and the man started going at it, fighting at first, but then trying to gain supremacy over the weapons. Reaper was a big man, but the guy that started this shit was good size, too.
The guy lifted his arm, a knife in his hand, but Reaper lifted his hand to the man’s nose and pushed up. The man howled in pain and dropped the knife. Reaper went for his gun, but instead of shooting him he brought the butt of the gun to the man’s temple, knocking him out.
She wanted Beast.
Closing her eyes, she knew she couldn’t stop the darkness from claiming her.
“She’s out fucking cold,” Grim said, picking Bridget up as Reaper came in dragging a man behind him.
“This fucker was about to drive away. As you can see, I stopped him,” Reaper said, dropping the man’s leg. The bastard was out cold thanks to getting cold cocked in the side of the head. Reaper would have just killed the asshole, but he wanted to have some fun.
“We’re going to have to call Beast, and tell him she’s been hit,” Grim laid her on the sofa.
“Call the doctor, get him here. I’m going to chain this bastard up in the basement until we know she’s fine.”
Reaper left his brother to deal with Bridget.
He dragged the large killer toward the kitchen where there was access to the basement. Whistling as he went, he opened the door, grabbed the killer’s leg, and pulled him downstairs, not caring that he was hitting the man’s head on the way down. The fucker thought he could come to his club, and take out a Brother’s woman? The bastard didn’t know what the fuck was about to happen to him.
Once he was at the bottom, he looked from the chair, to the chains in the center of the room. He debated which one would cause the most discomfort, and would annoy the fucker even more.
He settled on the chains in the center of the room. Whistling as he worked, he got the fucker hooked onto the chains, and pulled up.
“Don’t run away now,” he said, slapping the man who was still out cold.
Walking upstairs, he found Grim on the edge of the sofa, placing a cloth over the wound that was leaking blood.
“Is the good doctor on his way?” Reaper asked.
“Yep, I’ve still got to call Beast.”
“This is not going to go down well.” Beast was totally in love with Bridget. They all saw it. He’d never been gone on any woman before. The love between the unlikely duo was so easy to see.
Reaper was even impressed with the way Bridget was worried about the Brothers. She cared, and an old lady needed to be someone who cared.
“Will you make the call?” Grim asked.
Grunting, he pulled out his cell phone, and dialed Beast’s number. It went straight to voicemail. “I’ll keep trying. He’s probably hurting a man as we speak, and you know how cranky we get when we’re disturbed in the middle of it.”
“Let’s hope he doesn’t hurt us for getting her shot.”
Beast stared at the entrance to the casino, and rage built inside him. In that building, two men were plotting to kill the woman he loved. The woman who shouldn’t have even gotten a job with them, and he was pissed. Scrap that, he was so fucking angry, he wanted to kill everyone in that room.
“Are you okay, Brother?” Payne asked.
“I’m good. I want to go in there, and I want to fucking kill every single fucker that hurt her.” The thought of blood spilling because of his hands actually made him happy.
Climbing off his bike, he didn’t give a fuck if his Brothers were coming with him. He wanted to make an entrance. He grabbed his gun out of his back pocket, getting it ready to fire.
The casino was hosting a private party for Francis and some of his associates. All of them were fucking criminals, murderers, and he was going to take them out one by one.
“I’m sorry, sir ...” the woman on the door said.
He ignored her and kept on going. When a security guard started to grab him, he drew back the butt of the gun, and slammed it against the fucker’s nose. Blood spurted out, and Beast aimed his knee against the man’s dick.
The security guard dropped to the floor, and Beast went on. In his wake, he attacked any man who tried to stop him, lashing out. In the background, he heard his Brothers following close behind him.
He had a score to settle, one that was going to leave at least two men dead. Beast would make the world safe for Bridget. She had always deserved better. He loved that woman with his whole heart, and he would die for her.
Opening the door, he saw Francis and Rafe, and he drew his gun.
“I hear you’ve got a problem with my woman,” Beast said.
The guards in the room began to draw their weapon. He shot two, but was hit in the arm by the third. Payne, who was close behind him, took him out. Ignoring the burn— it wasn’t the first time he’d been shot— he kept his gaze on Rafe. That fucker was going to die a long, painful death.
Chapter Nineteen
Beast didn’t care that the bullet had torn through his arm. In fact, he liked the fucking pain, got off on it.
“You stupid assholes,” Francis said, but Beast just grinned.
“Get on your knees, motherfuckers.”
With their security down, Francis and Rafe had no other option but to obey. Beast wasn’t stupid though. He couldn’t prolong this because he was sure others were on their way. This needed to end.
He walked up to Rafe, saw the fucker snarl at him, and felt the rage wash through him. Beast curled his hand into a fist and reared it back. He brought his knuckles down across Rafe’s temple, and the man grunted and fell to the side. Before he could right himself, Beast had his hand wrapped around his throat and pulled his ass off the ground. He snarled, staring at the prick eye-to-eye.
“You touched my woman, thought you could threaten her, hurt her ... make her afraid.”
“She’s a bitch—”
Beast growled and head-butted him. Blood immediately started to pour from the fucker’s nose, which had a sadistic smile spreading over Beast’s face.
“Say something else about her, motherfucker.”
Rafe smirked; the asshole wanted to die right now given the way he was acting. �
�I fucked that bitch until her cunt bled.”
Red covered Beast’s vision, and he heard a low, animalistic growl echo. Without thinking, acting on instinct alone with the need to protect Bridget, to make sure she was safe, Beast lifted his gun and pressed it to Rafe’s head, right between the fucking eyes. “Fuck you,” Beast said before he pulled the trigger. The silencer on the gun dimmed the noise that would have resonated, and he let go of Rafe. The fucker fell to the ground, the bullet hole between his eyes smoking, the blood pouring out from behind his head.
“Bastard,” Francis said, but Payne was in front of the man, putting a bullet in his head, too. Francis fell to the ground beside his son, and for a second, all Beast could do was stare at the two bastards. It had ended too quickly. He should have made them suffer, should have tortured them, pulled off some fingernails and made them eat it. Damn, he could have come up with some fun little things to make those fuckers squeal like pigs.
“We need to get the fuck out of here,” Payne said from beside him.
Beast grunted and nodded, but still he stood there, just watching the blood pool around the dead assholes. Just then his cell rang. He grabbed it, not bothering to check the number, and answered it.
“Yeah?”
“Beast, we have an issue,” Reaper said from the other end, and Beast snapped out of his morbid obsession with the bodies at his feet. “Is Bridget okay?”
She better be okay or the world will come down around me.
“Looks like Rafe and Francis sent a fucker to take her out.”
His heart stopped, and the world faded away as darkness surrounded him.
“Is. She. Okay?” It took every ounce of strength to say the words.
“She’s alive, but she was shot. The doctor is with her now. We kept the fucker that shot her alive —”
Beast hung up before Reaper could say anything else.
“What the fuck?” Payne said, but Beast was already on the move. He didn’t say anything as he made his way out of the casino. One poor bastard tried to stop him, but he broke the fucker’s nose and kept on walking. Once outside, he looked at Payne. “Francis and Rafe sent a hit man to take Bridget out.”
“Is she okay?” Payne asked, concern and anger in his voice.
“She’s been shot but alive. They have the prick that tried to kill her.”
Payne’s face became a mask of rage. “Let’s go take care of him.”
Yeah, they would, and Beast would make sure the asshole did plenty of screaming.
Bridget was alive, and she was so grateful for that, but the pain was like nothing she’d ever experienced.
“I’m giving you these for the pain. Take one every four hours as needed. They’ll take the pain away, but they will also knock you out.”
Bridget looked at the doctor who had come to the clubhouse. His hair was disheveled, and the tux he wore looked like he’d just come from a party. He also smelled faintly of alcohol, but his gaze was clear, and his touch was gentle.
She looked down at her arm, seeing blood begin covering the bandage wrapped around her arm.
“You might see some blood on the bandage, but nothing substantial. The bullet went right through, so it should heal nicely.”
She nodded. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” He reached into his bag and pulled out another orange colored bottle. “This is an antibiotic to ensure that wound stays clean and uninfected.” He handed her the bottle. “Just take one twice a day for the next ten days, and than one every day until the bottle is empty.”
She nodded again.
“If you need help making sure the wound is cleaned and dressed properly, I can come by.”
She shook her head. “Your instructions were good; I can mange.” She smiled and tried to shift on the couch, but the pain had her wincing and hissing loudly.
“Just relax. You’re going to be feeling that for a while still.”
The doctor stood and walked over to Grim and Reaper. The twins had been pacing the floor for the last half hour since they’d called Beast. She was worried about him, not sure what had happened after the club had headed for Rafe and Francis. Had they succeeded? Were they hurt? Or worse, dead?
She was worried about Beast. She loved him so much and had grown close to the club. They were honorable men even if some of the things they did were wrong, bad, or illegal.
Just then, the club doors burst open and Beast and Payne strode in. Beast wore a mask of fury on his face as he scanned the club, and when his gaze landed on hers, she swore her heart stopped.
He was by her in the next instant, looking at her wound, his jaw clenching, the anger radiating from him. “How are you, baby?”
She smiled and lifted her good arm to cup his cheek. “I’m alive, and you’re here, so I’m good.”
He leaned in and kissed her, and she wished things had been different, of course.
Beast pulled away, looked at her for a prolonged second, and then he was standing and facing Grim and Reaper. The doctor had left, and with the club members standing in the main room, the air thick with tension and rage; Bridget knew this wasn’t over yet.
“Where is he?” Beast asked, his voice vibrating with unrestrained anger.
Yeah, this wasn’t over yet.
Chapter Twenty
Beast walked down to the basement where the fucker who put a hole in his woman was restrained with his arms above his head. There was blood dripping down his face from a cut to his forehead, but it wasn’t bad enough as far as Beast was concerned.
“I figured you’d want him bound and ready for a beating,” Reaper said.
“You did good.”
“Woohoo.”
He rolled his eyes. Grim and Reaper were two intense fuckers who took great pride in their ability to torture. They liked to play with their toys and cause the maximum amount of pain. Screams didn’t seem to bother the twins; they relished the noise, making sure each one they tortured sang before he died.
“You left him in one piece,” he said. That wasn’t like the twins. Payne usually had to order their asses to stop tearing their enemies apart.
“He took a chunk out of your woman. We figured you’d want to be the one to deal with him.
Grabbing the large bucket of water that one of the twins had probably left, he threw it over the man, waking him up.
“Wakey, wakey, motherfucker,” he said, snapping his fingers.
“Fuck!” The man started jerking on the chains, trying to get out of the trap they had placed him in.
“Well, I bet you’re feeling a little fucking stupid right now. You think you can take out my woman and get away.” Beast laughed.
“I was just answering the call, doing my job, asshole.”
“You’re a fucking asshole if you think that’s going to get you anywhere.”
“Take whatever issue you have with Francis and Rafe. I was just following orders.”
“And those orders were?” Beast asked, wanting the details.
“To take Bridget out. They don’t give me the reason why, I simply do the job without question.”
Grabbing the man’s face, he squeezed as tightly as he could. “You’re going to regret doing that, fucker!” He spat in the man’s face.
“Things are about to get good,” Grim said.
Looking toward the twins, he saw they were already grabbing tools and placing them on a tray beside Beast. These two fuckers got too much excitement out of something like this.
Removing his leather cut and his shirt, Beast moved toward the tray of tools.
“We recommend you strip him down until he’s completely naked. There’s always a lot of fun things to play with and hurt,” Reaper said.
Beast stared at the two brothers. He’d heard of the twins torturing the men by cutting off their balls, then their dicks. The very thought was ... ouch!
No, he couldn’t think about it.
He could fuck people up and hurt them, but he never got the sadistic pleasure o
ut of it like the twins did.
“I see you turning green,” Grim said.
“Aw, is the little bitty Beast feeling poorly?” Reaper smirked and grabbed a pair of scissors. “Let’s show you how the Masters of Torture work.” Reaper whistled, and even as he started to cut the clothes away from the man, he didn’t show any sign of hesitation against the wriggling, jerking man.
Beast stood back, watching as Reaper slapped the man across the face, laughing in dark pleasure.
“You know that is wrong,” Beast said.
“What? There’s nothing wrong with getting what we want. He’s a perfect canvas to do your worst.” Reaper stepped away from the man, and Beast stepped forward.
“Francis is dead,” Beast said.
“Then let me the fuck go.”
“You’ve got no chance. You hurt my woman, shot her through the shoulder.”
“I was aiming for her head.”
Beast lashed out, landing blows to the man’s body. His rage consumed him, and he wanted to fucking kill the bastard. There was no control in what he was doing. He was going to slaughter this fucker.
Stepping back a few minutes later, the man was laughing, and he spit blood out. “I wonder if I’m the only one coming after the little slut.”
“Beast, you’re great at many things, but leave this to us,” Grim said. “The fucker likes to run his mouth, apparently.”
The piece of shit was hung up and still being cocky. Beast was a fighter, not a torturer, but for Bridget, and what the man had done to her, he’d make sure this little waste of space paid in blood and screams.
Grim and Reaper knew what they were doing, and Beast knew they’d give the would-be killer a nice little taste of what he was really facing.
The twins did rock, paper, scissors, which Grim won. He watched as Grim grabbed a small scalpel from the medical try.
“This is a bitch of a weapon. People don’t realize how sharp these fuckers are, not until I take them to their skin. They’re fucking brilliant.” Grim sliced the blade down the man’s face.
Beast watched as Grim did a few more slices, whistling as if he was making a piece of art rather than slicing a man up. Beast had never been into torture porn, but the truth was he was getting a hell of a lot of pleasure in seeing this piece of shit hurting.