Page 171 of Monster

My jaw clenched.

I was gonna have a good fucking time messing up his face so badly, no plastic surgeon could fix it—again.

Not that he would have a need for it.

After all, dead men didn’t need shit.

Bet he was fucking surprised I was alive. He would be even more so to know John fucking Moore was the body they recovered from the Colorado River, wearing my cut, while the news anchor, on my payroll, let it slip about mydeath.

Though that had been necessary, I was still fucking stiff that my cut was gone.

My eyes went back to my VP and son, noticing the relief on their faces.

Neither man moved away from the truck, which told me they were guarding something infinitely precious in there.

My guess?

My girl and Roman’s girl were there.

My fists tightened around the handlebars before I pulled out my gun and aimed at Axel.

My men took my lead and pulled out their guns, pointing them at all the traitors. Ten, by my count, and two fuckheads I had never met before. I assumed these were the men who chased after my boy and Emmy.

All the traitors got off their bikes and surrendered their weapons, except for Axel.

They knew they wouldn’t win in this fight. Their best bet was to surrender and hope I was feeling generous.

I wasn’t feeling generous. I was feeling murderous.

I narrowed my eyes at the fucker trying to run off and leave his men behind.

Axel.

Better known as Brooks Tanner.

The former fucking president of the King’s Men. The man infiltrated my club using a dead man’s identity and took a page from my playbook as he recruited men for an insurgent group.

Fucking pathetic that he only got ten men to join him.

When I rebelled, I had more than half the men in the club standing behind me, including his VP.

But this was ten men too many.

And they were gonna wish they hadn’t worked for a man like him.

“What do you want to do?” Micah asked beside me through the growl of the engine.

“Gather up all the fucking men and take them to one of the warehouses. You can pick one and have your fun. You deserve it. I’m gonna chase Tanner,” I said, knowing the little fucker was about to run.

Sure enough, he ran to one of the abandoned bikes and took off.

“Don’t shoot,” I yelled to my men. “The fucker’s mine!”

I revved my engine and chased him, catching up after a block.

He turned slightly around to look at me. He blindly shot his gun behind him and missed me by about a mile.

I smiled and sped up, quickly driving up to his side.

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