Rules of Bennett: The Complete Collection

by Ember Michaels

  My main security team all gathered their supplies and headed out to the garage, loading up the truck. Adrenaline surged in my veins at the thought of ending someone's life tonight. The full moon was bright over our heads, a small smile pulling at my lips. Perfect night to raise a bit of hell.

  “Hey!” someone shouted from the house. I looked over my shoulder to see Carrie standing in the doorway of the garage, watching us as we prepared the cars. “Where are you guys going?”

  “To handle business,” I replied.

  “Can I come?”

  “Absolutely fucking not. Get back inside.”

  “But maybe I can—”

  “Get the fuck inside, Carrie. Am I going to have to lock you up downstairs, too? The purpose of bringing you here was to keep you safe, not worry about you getting yourself into more shit,” I ground out.

  She huffed. “Fine, you ass,” she said and slammed the door.

  I shook my head. I was so over being around moody women who were hell-bent on throwing themselves into danger.

  “You can’t pay me enough to settle down,” Bruce said and chuckled. “Women can be such headaches.”

  “Between Carrie and Aurora, I may just off myself just to get the hell away from them,” I mumbled as I slid into the front passenger seat of the blacked out, armored Hummer with Bruce in the driver’s seat. “Did someone already call the surgeons?”

  "I called," Saint said as he passed my door, heading for the armored Audi parked next to us. "I sent him the location and told him to wait a couple of blocks away. Someone will call him when we're ready for him to play his part."

  "Perfect." I looked around. "Where the hell is KC?"

  "Behind you," he said, his deep voice filling the back of the Hummer. I turned, barely seeing him shrouded in darkness all the way in the back.

  I chuckled. "You better start making yourself known, man. That's how people get shot around here," I said. "You got everything ready and set up?"

  "These guys don't have security cameras, so we won't know what we're up against until we get there. Both of their phones seem to be in the same location, though, which means they're together."

  "Even better. Gotta love when a plan comes together and you can kill two cowards with one knife," I said.

  Excitement bubbled up inside me, my fingertips tingling in anticipation. I looked up to the moon once we were on the road, a slight grin on my lips. Those fuckers would pay for attacking my sister.

  We pulled up to a run down house in Los Angeles. Street walkers roamed the sidewalks, shaking their hips in our directions when our cars rolled to a stop a little bit away from our destination. All the lights were off except one in an upstairs room. A shadowed figure paced back and forth in front of the window.

  "Think that's him?" Bruce murmured.

  From the silhouette of the person, he looked as if he could be the man in the photo. "Probably," I answered.

  The front door to the home opened, and a man neither of us recognized walked out of the building. He teetered on his feet before tipping a large beer bottle up to his mouth, nearly downing all the beer left inside of it.

  "Fuck. This is either a shitty apartment or one of those halfway houses or something," Saint hissed over his headset.

  "Aye man, you tryin' to buy somethin'?" a man in a hoodie asked, his face hidden.

  He'd appeared out of nowhere, and his presence made me uncomfortable, especially when we hadn't properly canvased this spot. I pulled my gun from my waistband and placed it on my lap.

  "Get the fuck away from my window before I pump you full of lead,” I sneered. He eyed the gun on my lap and held his hands up.

  "No disrespect, man. Thought you were the customer waiting for me," he said and took the hood off his head.

  His brown skin was scarred, as if he'd been in plenty of scuffles over the years. His dark eyes had bags under them as if he hadn't slept in days, and his hoodie sported all kinds of stains.

  "Wait," I said suddenly. He paused and turned around but didn't speak. I pointed at the house. "Who all lives in there?"

  He turned back to look at the building, almost as if he didn't know what I was talking about. "Shit, all kinds of people. It's usually full of crackheads and the sluts that work this street," he said with a shrug.

  "Do a pair of twins live here?"

  His eyes shifted away from me as he shuffled his weight from foot to foot. "You a cop or somethin'? You askin' a lotta questions." He looked me up and down, eying my suit and the car I was in. "You don't look like you from around here, fam."

  I rubbed my temple, irritation flowing through. "Either you can answer my question or you can figure out how to put your intestines back in your body after you pick them up from the sidewalk. Your choice." I held the gun up and rested the muzzle on the window, careful not to attract anyone else nearby. "Do a pair of twins live in that building?"

  "I-I-I don't know no twins, man," he stammered, putting his hands up. "People are in and out of this place all the time."

  I looked at him long and hard before I finally ground my teeth. Even if those two assholes were here, I couldn't do what I wanted to without it raising attention. This location was too public and there were too many potential witnesses. I was only equipped to kill two men, not a whole gang of people I never accounted for.

  "You're dismissed then. Get the fuck out of here," I snapped and rolled up my window, watching as the man nearly tripped over himself to get away from the car.

  "What now, Boss?" Bruce asked after a few moments of silence.

  "Gotta do things a little different now," I mused, looking up at the window to see the figure still pacing. "We can't confirm if they're both in there right now. If we ask too many people, someone's bound to get suspicious and may tip them off." I turned in my seat and focused on KC. "I need you to put another plan in motion."

  He opened his laptop and nodded. "What's up?"

  "What was the last email my father sent them?" I asked.

  He typed around on his computer for a few moments, his eyes scanning something on the screen. "It says, 'Fellows, as you know, the Moreno family is now in a war. While I thank you for your commitment and the work you've put in for this organization, I'm sorry to say that you'll have to find your own means to safety. This is a large organization, and we can't help everyone. Please know that we're only a phone call away if you need us. Please stay safe during this chaotic time,'" KC read.

  I nodded. "Good, good. Think you can hack his email to send them to another location? I need to get them away from here and somewhere more private."

  "You got it," he said idly, already typing away on his computer. After a few moments, he paused briefly and looked up at me. "Location."

  "The club is the closest place," Bruce answered.

  I rubbed my chin thoughtfully. I'd actually forgotten about the basement of the club. The last time I'd been there was when I had to get rid of Joe. It was the perfect place because it made people feel safe since they thought the club was still a public place.

  "The club it is," I said. "Tell them to get there ASAP and to pack a bag. They'll get money to get them somewhere safe until this all blows over."

  "So basically, tell them you had a change of heart and want to help them?" KC asked with a sly grin. "You know it's kind of hard to picture Wilson going back on his word like that. Everyone knows that man doesn't have a conscious."

  "We gotta try. Just tell them to meet him at the club in thirty minutes and use the back door so no one can tip off anyone about their presence."

  "Got it," he said and began typing away on his keyboard.

  I tapped back into my headpiece and relayed the change of plans to Saint, Josh, Nyxin. "Since you guys have a bulk of the supplies, go ahead to the club and set up. We're coming right behind you," I said.

  "Cool, see you there," he said.

  The Audi lights flashed behind us before it pulled into traffic and drove away. Bruce and I watched the window. The shadowed fig
ure paused and looked down at what I assumed was a phone.

  "Yep, that's one of them at least," I murmured out loud as the figure moved from the window. "Let's get to the club."

  BENNETT

  The club was as packed as it usually was. The parking lot was so full that we would've been fucked if we actually needed to park on the property. We opted to park farther behind the building on the other end of the dark alley, wanting our entrance and getaway to be untraceable. KC altered the cameras until we were all secured in the basement, opting to wait in the car to look out for anything suspicious.

  I paced the floor, constantly glancing at my watch as we waited. Being patient was never one of my strengths. I already wanted to kill them for what they'd done to Carrie, but making me wait only made the rage grow even brighter.

  "Where the fuck are they?" I growled.

  "Maybe they caught on to the fact that they were walking in to meet their fates," Saint joked from the corner where he stood.

  I ground my teeth and tried to keep my anger at bay. It was not the time to lose my shit when there were bigger fish to fry.

  "Two figures jogging toward the back door," KC said in my headset.

  “They’re here,” I said, cracking my neck as I let go of my anxious energy.

  "Game time," Nyxin said as he cracked his neck and rolled his shoulders.

  I couldn't help the smile that pulled at my lips. It was game time indeed. My heart pumped a little faster in my chest, excitement coursing through my veins as we waited for the rhythmic knock that had to be presented in order to get in here.

  Bruce looked at me when the men knocked, and I nodded, taking a few steps back into the shadows of the room.

  "Man, you don't know how relieved we were to get your—" one of them said and immediately stopped upon seeing Bruce, Saint, and Nyxin. "Where's Wilson?"

  "He had to run into the office really quick to grab more money. I guess he forgot that there's two of you, and you might want to go to different places," Bruce stated, giving them a toothy grin. The men shifted uncomfortably and looked around again. "Are you going to come in or have Wilson put a bullet in all of us when he comes down here and sees us conversing in the hall?"

  I smirked as I watched the two brothers look at one another before they finally entered the room. They both flinched and looked back at Bruce when the heavy door closed and a lock engaged.

  "How can Wilson come back in if you've locked the door?" one of them exclaimed. "This isn't fucking funny, man. If you guys are up to some bullshit, he'll kill all of you."

  "I highly doubt that," I said as I stepped out of the shadows, my hands in my pockets. "This was the same man that told you that you were pretty much on your own in this war he created, and you think he'd kill someone over...you?"

  "You must be Bennett," one of them sneered, his hand tightening on the handle of the duffle bag he carried. "He told us about you."

  "I'm sure he has, but it doesn't matter what he told you. You're not here to talk about me. You're here to talk about my sister," I stated, eerily calm despite the anxiety coursing through me.

  My bones literally ached at the thought of smelling their blood, hearing their screams, and watching the life drain out of them. I wanted them to beg me for their lives. I wanted them both to suffer.

  I wouldn't be content until they were dead.

  Until all the fuckers who dared to touch my family were dead.

  "We don't know shit about any sisters," the other one snarled.

  I grinned as he puffed his chest out. They were both a bit bigger and more muscular in person than they were in their pictures. The way they flexed in front of me seemed as if they thought I would be scared or intimidated by their size, but nothing scared me. I'd taken out men bigger than them, not to mention that they were sorely outnumbered.

  "I'm sure you know all about that money you just collected for roughing up a woman who was ‘too nosy for her own good,’” I replied nonchalantly. They only glared at me, recognition and hesitation shining in your eyes. "Ah, now I have your attention."

  "It was a fucking job," one of them exclaimed as Bruce, Josh, and Nyxin took a step closer to where they stood. "We were assigned a job, and since it was our first, we had to take it to prove ourselves."

  "That's fine," I said with a shrug. "But all actions have consequences. You know that, don't you?"

  "That's not fair, man," one of them countered, his eyes darting around to the men surrounding him. "We can't help whose name ends up on the assignment. We just complete them and get paid for it. You need to take that up with Wilson."

  "I'll be dealing with him, too. But first, I'd like to deal with you." I took a few steps closer to them. "Did she beg you not to hurt her when you broke into her house?"

  "It's not our fucking fault. We were doing our jobs!" one of them bellowed, spittle flying out of his mouth.

  "That's not what I asked you," I said, ignoring his outburst as I looked between the both of them. "Let's try this again. Did she beg you not to hurt her when you broke into her house?"

  They were both silent for so long that I almost questioned myself if I'd repeated the question out loud or in my head. I raised an eyebrow at them, waiting for one of them to speak, but they both refused.

  I shrugged.

  "Suit yourself," I said and nodded to Bruce.

  The twins focused their attention on Bruce while Nyxin and Saint flanked them and plunged a syringe into the back of their necks.

  "You fucking...bastards," one of them wheezed out, blindly trying to pull at the syringe.

  They both dropped to the floor like dead weight at my feet, and Saint chuckled.

  "I was almost worried we didn't have enough medicine to knock them out," he mused. "Those are some big fuckers."

  "It doesn't matter. I don't want them out too long. I want them to be awake and able to feel every single thing that's about to happen to them," I murmured, kicking them both to make sure they were out. "Get them prepped for the next phase. I'll call the surgeons.”

  The men moved quickly to get the twins off the floor and onto the two sterile wooden tables. While they worked to strap the men in and prep them, I slipped my phone from my pocket and speed dialed the surgeon.

  "Ready to rock and roll, my boy?" the gravelly voice asked upon answering.

  I grinned to myself. No matter how old I got, George Boitiano continued to still see me as the little boy who used to follow him around to watch him work because there was something about blood that fascinated me.

  He'd been by my side as my on-call surgeon ever since I took over my part of the business, pledging his loyalty to me over my father when things with their partnership went sour. I wouldn't complain though. He was the best there was for what I needed and pretty much the only one I could trust at this point.

  "We're ready for you and whoever will be assisting you,” I said, looking over at my men.

  They'd secured the twins to the tables with metals cuffs that were attached to each corner. Bruce pulled out a pair of scissors and passed a pair to Nyxin, both of them proceeding to cut off the men's shirts and pants. Saint yanked off their heavy black boots and tossed them into a large trash bag he'd opened, along with the cut up clothes. They wouldn't be needing them where they were going.

  "Where are the two gentlemen now?"

  "They're strapped to the table. They're still unconscious though. Do you have something that'll wake them up? I want them awake enough to feel everything done to them."

  "I can bring something in. Did you bring your own tools, or should I bring in mine?"

  "Yours will be better. I don't want to damage any of the organs removed," I replied.

  He huffed and grunted for a moment before a car door slammed shut in the background. "Very well, my boy. We’ll be in momentarily," he said and hung up.

  "I think that's everything until the surgeon gets here," Josh said with a sigh, brushing his hands off.

  I nodded as I looked over the unc
onscious men, who now lay on the table in nothing but black boxer briefs. Their chests and arms were all covered in tattoos, their names inked across their stomachs.

  "At least we know who is who," I mused mostly to myself, cocking my head to the side.

  They both sported a tattoo of a sword with a wavy ribbon across it with the inscription "My Brother's Keeper," and I almost snorted. It was a little poetic how they were born together and were about to die together for the same crime. It would be interesting to see how their loyalty to each other would falter when their lives were on the line.

  Another rhythmic knock sounded on the door. I blew out a breath to calm myself down. The last thing I wanted to do was rush through everything due to my personal emotions. I'd waited for this moment for a good while, and I wanted to savor every second of it. Ever since I'd found Carrie beaten up and bloody, I'd daydreamed about what I'd do to the bastards that touched her, and the time had finally come. I couldn't fucking wait to unleash my version of hell upon them.

  Bruce opened the door and nodded to George as he walked in with a duffle bag and rolling book bag, a younger surgeon following behind him. He was dressed in light green scrubs with a white hair net covering his salt and peppered hair. His usual full white beard had been shaven down to a five o'clock shadow. Comfortable wrinkles were positioned around his eyes, which lit up when his gaze fell on me.

  "Ah, there's my boy," he mused, walking further into the room.

  "Always good to see you, George," I said and returned his smile. "Thank you for coming on such short notice."

  He pulled me in for a tight embrace, giving me a firm clap on the back before he pulled away. "You know it's not any trouble. Any time you need me, I'm here," he said and brought his gaze to the two unconscious men. "So who do we have here?" He squinted and looked over their tattoos. "Marco and Michelangelo? Who are they?"