“You better kill me now, or you will regret it,” I growl out. My hope is to distract him enough for me to lunge forward with enough speed to grab what I need and avoid being killed. When I hear his laughter start ricocheting off the walls, I take my opportunity.
“Son of a bitch,” he spits out when he realizes I have succeeded in my plan. He tries to slice my neck open like a goddamn butcher would a pig, but I move too fast for him to do so. With my hand on the handle, I flip the board, and ram the edge of the face right into his kneecap that is inches below my shoulder. The sound of his cries and bones crunching is like music to my ears.
“You’ll never beat me,” I shout as I stand up to start swinging wildly. I make contact with his body each and every time, but it’s not good enough for me. Bending down to pick up the rope, I begin to tie his hands together so I can dangle him from the ceiling like he’s done to so many women. With his arms stretched high, you can see all the blood and dirt that has already stained his white shirt that’s also littered with holes. Still this is not enough to satisfy my demons. They want more blood.
“I want you to think of one thing while I beat you within an inch of your life. When I go home, I’ll be doing so to Scarlett. She will be waiting for me, not you. She is MINE!”
My words have their desired effect. Slasher begins to spit unintelligible things at me as I continue to drown out his voice one blow at a time. I swing with as much power as I can, and every single time I feel the ends of the nails dig into his skin, I laugh. The word queen will be permanently embedded into his skin.
“You feel that?” I ask, stopping my assault long enough for him to lift his heavy head that seemed lifeless just a few seconds ago. I tell myself I have to stop because my shoulders are growing sore, as are my forearms, and I know I will need to use them later on.
“What did you do me?” Slasher manages to slur out.
“I won’t ask you to say his name, because if you did I would have to kill you when I have better plans. The curare poison I smeared on the tips of these nails is for Junior,” I state while holding the paddle in front of his face for him to see the blood covered surface. “My brother. My friend. My only family.”
I did my research, and it took a long time to find someone that had the rare poison from South America. It was never intended for torture, more traditionally it is used in the professional field of medicine, but I found the one dealer willing to give me enough to paralyze Slasher’s nerves without killing him.
“Futh you,” he mumbles.
I toss the paddle to the ground, making sure it lands away from the area I need to work in. The next part of my plan is the sole reason I built the shed on uncovered ground. After I dig a large enough hole, I will bring in the box I had Scarlett help me build. I could just put him in the ground without it, but I didn’t want him dying too quickly from the weight of the dirt. What’s the point of burying someone alive if he won’t live long enough to suffer.
“You deserve worse,” I state while walking around his limply hanging body to retrieve the shovel I brought. I regret not tying him up closer to one of the side walls because the small space was already not ideal for digging. Now I have to work around him.
The man I bought the poison from reassured me Slasher would still be able to hear me even if he couldn’t talk back. I had thought when the time came to start digging I would remind him of why I am doing this, but with each foot of dirt I dig, I find there are no words I care to share with him. All my mind is focusing on is the knowledge that soon my brother will suffer the same fate. Saint will not be alive for his burial, but he will be buried none the less. It doesn’t just hurt me to think about the inevitable. The pain in my chest is so much more than that. The thoughts make me feel like someone is cutting away my core, one painful layer at a time. Growing up, my brother was my only friend, my only family, and the one person I could count on to have my back. Without him, I’ll have no one. That is a life I’m not sure I want to live. When I can no longer dig because my shoulders are burning and my eyes are watering from the thoughts circulating through my mind, I begin to maneuver myself out of the hole I dug.
Checking to make sure my victim is still alive, I smile in Slasher’s face when his eyes stare back into mine with tears of fear glistening in them. Inhaling deep, I can smell the tanginess of his anxiety. The sense of power this brings me helps to erase the negative thoughts that were swarming my mind just a moment ago. Allowing his head to drop back to his chest, I make my way outside to get the box Scarlett helped me build.
It takes a little more strength to get it out of the car than what I used dragging Slasher, and my already tired muscles are screaming for me to give them a break. Ignoring the pain in my arms and shoulders, I get the metal box into the shed.
Using one of my favorite daggers, I cut Slasher down. I enjoy watching his limp body fall to the ground before landing in an awkward angle. Me winning, and him losing in such a way, may surprise some of the people I made sure were watching, but it doesn’t shock me at all. I wasn’t going to bury my brother without burying him first. Taking the three steps needed within reaching distance, I grab a hold of Slasher’s hair and begin dragging him to his final resting spot. I make sure not to be gentle while tossing his body into his makeshift coffin. I don’t bother crossing his arms over his chest, or making sure his limbs are turned the right way. The only thing I do concentrate on is getting Slasher’s eyes to focus solely on me.
“When you’re down there and the sound of dirt being thrown down onto this box starts to fill your ears, I want you to think of one thing. I want you to remember that today was the day you fought with the devil, and you lost.”
I don’t bother to stare into his scared eyes, or enjoy the tears sliding from them. I quickly close the lid to his personal Hell, and begin maneuvering the box into the hole that is barely wide enough to accommodate it. With every shovel full of dirt, the demons that have been haunting me slowly start to dissipate. It was hard knowing the man responsible for Saint’s condition was still walking around like nothing had happened. The sense of pleasure I get knowing I avenged my brother makes everything I’ve done worth it. I know I have lost my place in the Tarnished Souls MC. My club brothers will never allow Scarlett’s abduction go without consequences, but like a man I will go back to the clubhouse and accept any punishment they see fit. I will be able to do so with pride filling my chest because today was the day I proved to everyone how dangerous I can be.
The ride back to the clubhouse goes by quicker than the time I left it last. A part of me wishes I had set this damn SUV on fire when I did the shed. Knowing I had Scarlett drugged out of her mind in the back is turning into a harder pill to swallow than I thought it would be. A small part of me regrets the decisions I had to make, but the bigger part is not at all remorseful for my actions. It was time for me to remind everyone why I am the monster they all whisper about.
Arriving at the compound just as the sun is starting to kiss the night sky, I turn down the driveway and settle myself in for the whirlwind of events that is soon to happen. There will probably be a line of men waiting to take the first swing at me. I might let them get one hit in without retaliation, but I’m not going to stand there and let someone beat the shit out of me, regardless if I deserve it or not. I never fought back when I was younger, and that’s one regret I will never live down. I’m not about to do that shit again.
As expected, there are a tone of men waiting for me to pull up. At least I think they are waiting on me. When I come to a stop, every one of them are watching, and when I open my door to get out of the SUV, they all square their shoulders in my direction.
“TELLER!” I hear my name being roared before a group of men are shoved to the side by Torch who is running at me like a charging bull. His shoulders are down, his eyes are locked onto mine, and there is a sneer pulling at his lips. I crack my neck from side to side and separate my feet to make it easier to take the brunt of his hit. I should have known o
ut of all the members, Torch would be the one more upset by my actions towards Scarlett.
The closer he gets to me, the more I think about flipping him over my back in a ducking move Saint taught me when we first started selling drugs. He always wanted me to be prepared for anything, so he showed me how to toss someone over my back and then plant my boot into their skull. Seeing as Torch is the Sergeant at Arms for Tarnished Souls, I decide to let him take me to the ground as his one free hit. However, once we hit the dirt my generosity is coming to an end. If he wants to fight, we will fight.
I’m sure he expects his hard hit to take my breath away, or cause me to lose some of my moving ability, but once his shoulder is slammed into my gut, I manage to grit my teeth and shift our positions before we hit the ground. I make my body as heavy as I can to keep him from squirming out from underneath me before I start using my sore muscles to deliver as many punches as I can to his face. I hear voices around me hollering and crying out both our names, yet there’s not one capable of stopping what Torch has started. I’m not allowing the sound of his grunts or the blood trailing down his eyebrow to stop me as I continue to land punch after punch to his face.
“Teller, stop!” a new voice cries out. Scarlett’s words come out sounding strange, and without thought I am looking in her direction to find out why.
Torch uses my momentary distraction to his advantage. Twisting both his hands into the front of my shirt he then slams his forehead into the side of my cheek. The pain is instant and immediately causes my attention to go back to the task at hand. Turning my head while bring my fist back, I move to hit him again, but before I can, he slams his head up into my nose. The force of his blow causes my eyes to water and blood to start pouring from my nose.
“NO!”
Unlike the last, this time Scarlett’s words are clear as day. I have no way of knowing which member has caused her screams to become fearful, but a part of me would like to think she doesn’t like to see blood draining from my face.
“Scarlett don’t!” someone yells before I feel the sensation of her hands shoving at my shoulders in a desperate gesture to get me to move. Her tiny hands are pushing with as much force as she can, yet I’m still not budging. I’m not going to allow Torch to get up and take another swing at me. As long as my weight is on him, I have the upper hand.
“Are you finished?” I breath out, trying not to let everyone hear the pain it causes my face to talk. Any movement from my facial muscles is causing the throbbing sensation in my nose to increase. Ignoring Scarlett’s persistence, I continue to stare into Torch’s eyes waiting on an answer.
“Get the fuck off me,” he growls back.
Taking that as a yes, I reach up to grab Scarlett’s wrist. She’s had her one free hit, now is the time for her to keep those tiny hands to herself. When my skin makes contact with hers she gasps in surprise, and gives me a look that says I have no right touching her. I guess her concern was for Torch, not me after all.
“Get your hands off of her,” I hear Scarlett’s loud mouth friend start roaring.
When Mia walks up to Scarlett and attempts to remove my hands by touching me, I let out a menacing growl. I would never hit a woman, but if she places her hands on me I might throw her ass to the ground. She can take a spot next to her boyfriend on the dirt.
“Mia don’t…,” Scarlett tries to say, but the message is lost because it’s hard to understand her.
Switching her left wrist into my left hand, now holding her with just one hand, I bring the right one to her face. Gently tugging on her chin, she stubbornly refuses to do what I am silently asking her to. It isn’t until I briefly close my eyes out of frustration that she obeys. When I reopen them, Scarlett has her mouth open and swollen tongue on full display.
“He did this?”
I already know it to be true, but Scarlett confirming it is what I need right now. If I wasn’t already feeling like shit for using her as bait, after seeing this I definitely would be. When Scarlett nods her head as a response to my question, I stare into her green eyes before saying what I know she is aware of.
“He’ll never hurt you again.”
“You made sure of that, didn’t you? “
Buck, my president, has finally decided to join in on the shit show. I can hear the sense of betrayal he is feeling as it seeps from every one of his words. As thick as honey, Buck’s statement is filled with his thoughts on my actions towards the club. Letting go of Scarlett’s hands, I turn around to come face to face with the leader of our club.
“You betrayed your brothers, Teller,” Buck declares while looking around at all the members circling around us. I see Irish and Hammer standing toward the left. Both of them looking at me with shock and something that resembles sympathy. Then, looking to my right, I see Taz and a now standing Torch. Both of their faces showing nothing but anger and disgust.
“No,” I begin to argue. I almost laugh at the look of disbelief on Buck’s face as I state this. I guess he thought he would give a giant speech for the entire group to hear, and I would just stand around with my dick tucked between my legs. “I only betrayed one person and that was Scarlett. I did the rest of you a favor. I killed the man that was making this club look weak.”
“You spied on all of us. You killed Dak without bringing it to a vote, and you kidnapped Scarlett to give her to Slasher. Do you see what he did to her? What if your plan hadn’t worked out? What then?”
With each question, Buck takes an angry step toward me. I can see the vein on the side of his neck bulging from emotion, and it causes my fists hanging at my sides to clench out of reflex. It doesn’t bother me that I might have to fight my president. What does bother me is that my nose is still bleeding and he will seek it out first if he decides to swing.
“What would you have done if he killed her, Teller?” Buck inquires when I don’t bother answering his other questions. Is he trying to prove a point to everyone, including Scarlett who I can hear breathing off to my side? Is he trying to show everyone I am a heartless monster that can’t be trusted? That I hold no loyalties toward anyone but Saint and myself?
“The same thing you already saw,” I answer before cutting him off when he tries to open his mouth to ask another stupid fucking question. “What would you have done if Serenity would never have come home? Who would you have used to get the revenge you would have wanted?” If he wants to ask me all these bullshit “what if’s” I can do the same.
Turning toward Irish, I force him to acknowledge the truth as well. “What if Slasher had sent Ashley back in a body bag? What would you have done then, brother?”
Then, looking at Taz I stare him straight in the eyes before stating something we all know to be true. “Are you going to pretend you didn’t suggest it once? That you weren’t so desperate to kill him you suggested using Scarlett as bait.”
“Enough!” Buck growls, growing irritated that I am proving my point. “The difference between you and Taz is he involved the club. You went AWOL, Teller. We need your cut. You’re out.” Briefly looking down at the ground, Buck starts to say something else before his voice is cut off by the sound of tires crunching on gravel. Everyone turns their focus off me to look in the direction of the noise. In a scene that reminds me of a presidential motorcade, a line of police cars are coming down the driveway. One by one, they begin to park behind my SUV.
“What the fuck is going on? “
“Who the hell are they here for?”
“Someone needs to get the ladies inside.”
All the men are talking amongst themselves, and for the most part their concerns are all going ignored. I hear someone trying to get the women to go into the clubhouse, but not a single lady budges from her current spot. From the look on Brady’s sheriff’s face, someone the Tarnished Souls has known for a while, there is nothing good about to come from his visit.
“What’s going on, Dex?” Buck asks when the sheriff is within hearing distance.
“The new Travis Cou
nty sheriff, Kate Riggs, has put out a warrant for Lucas Smith and Marcus Williams. These men behind me are officers from Austin.”
“You’ve got be fucking kidding me,” Taz says as soon as he hears his name.
“Lucas Smith?” A male officer questions while walking up to him with a pair of handcuffs at the ready.
“Taz…,” Serenity starts to cry, clutching onto his side like she can somehow stop the inevitable. These men are here to do their jobs. Anything we do or say will only cause more trouble for us later.
“What is this about?” Buck interjects, taking a step toward the unknown officer trying to put handcuffs on his VP and soon to be son-in-law.
“Lucas Smith, you are under arrest for the second-degree murder of Jose Lopez and Javier Rios, as well as felony arson. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say…”
“NO!” Serenity shouts before swatting away the man that is trying to tighten the cuffs around Taz’s wrist. “Don’t touch him.”
“Serenity,” Taz states in a warning tone. “Go to your dad. He will make sure you are brought to the police station for me to post bail.”
All it takes is a little bit of direction from her biker to get Serenity calm enough to listen. She walks into Buck’s open arms, who is still standing in front of me. Then, a younger officer comes forward. “Marcus Williams…,” he starts to say while walking in my direction. I stop his forward motion by placing my hand out. One arm at a time, I remove the leather cut that has always been worn over my plain white t-shirts. Before giving the officer my back, I toss the material in Buck’s direction.
Teller (Tarnished Souls MC Book 4) Page 11