Page 44 of All Your Firsts

I’m just thankful the poker night was here tonight, and I got the alert so quickly.

I fucked up a lot before her arrival, but upping my camera and security system wasn’t one of my shortcomings.

“Looks like he’s playing the silent game. My favorite,” Trey says, “You got a flathead screwdriver?”

I walk to the kitchen and rummage under the sink for my small tool kit. “Will this do?” I hand it to Trey, who looks like he was just given a trophy. This is about to get messy. I reach back under the sink and grab my hidden Glock with the silencer attached before placing it in the back of my pants.

The guy’s eyes widen a fraction before he composes himself. Marcus grabs his hand and places it on the poker table.

“We’ll give you one more chance. What are you doin’here?” Marcus says.

Silence.

“Nothing? Really?” Axl shakes his head. He prefers a quick and direct approach with a bullet between the eyes. Unlike the rest of us, he does not share in our enthusiasm for torturing.

With the flathead screwdriver in hand, Trey forcefully positions it under the guy’s nail before wrenching it up. The sound of his nail being torn from the nail bed makes my skin crawl in anticipation. His nail now hangs from a small piece of the cuticle while blood streams from the open wound onto the forgotten cards and table. The man shakes, and a vein bulges from his forehead, but he says nothing.

It’s impressive and slightly terrifying.

“Not even a sound? Guess I’m losing my touch, guys,” Trey mutters before ripping off the remaining nails from his hand. On the last one, the guy finally cracks and lets out one of the most gut-wrenching squeals I’ve ever heard. Thank fuck for the soundproof insulation Trey insisted I install when I bought the house.

Trey’s smile only gets bigger the more the guy whines. “Talk or I’ll start tooth extractions, which hurt a fuck of a lot more than your little hangnails.”

“We want the girl.”

“What girl?” Axl asks before anyone else gets the chance.

“The princess—”

Without hesitation, I draw my gun and aim it directly at his face.

The overwhelming need to keep Rosie safe compels me to pull the trigger. The absence of remorse engulfs me as the bullet smoothly exits the chamber, whispers through the silencer, and strikes him between the eyes.

“Holy fuck, Vic!” Samuel says.

“What he said. We don’t know why he’s here, and we were just getting to the fun stuff,” Trey whines.

“He said princess, what’s that about?” Marcus asks.

Ax looks over at me, and I know he wants to say something, but he keeps his mouth shut. I’ll tell the guys about who Rosie is when I’m ready.

I ignore Marcus’s question.

“I was tired of listening to him cry like a little bitch. You think you guys can get rid of him before he gets a bunch of blood on the floor?”

“First, you kill the fun, and then you ask for cleanup? What the fuck?” Trey says.

“Sorry,” I say with a shrug.

“I guess it’s time for some brotherly bonding. Samuel, get the fucker’s legs. You too, Ax,” Trey says.

“I’ll go find somethin’ to put him in,” Marcus mutters as he walks out the door.

“Best poker night ever. It’s going to be hard to top next week, but we can try,” Trey mutters.

“Are they all like this?” Samuel asks as he looks down at the dead man.

“No, but I think we should make it a thing,” Trey says.

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