Page 64 of Marx

“What the hell-” Savage is cut off by another guy, this one fully on fire.

“Well, that’s two down,” I mutter under my breath.

I glance at my brothers before stepping inside, wary now that I’ve seen two men screaming out of here on fire.

“Is that-” Rhodie tips his head to the side, eyes on the blow torch attached to the door jamb of the kitchen.

“Yup.”

“That’s Home Alone shit right there,” Tank whispers, looking around, bewildered.

Grunting from the dining room draws my attention pulling me in that direction. Before I can say anything my men fan out, guns drawn. At Remy’s last call there were fifty men swarming the place. There are at least twenty bodies lying out front, so anyone else will be out back or inside, and that’s a lot of mento put down. If Remy’s correct we are severely outnumbered, at least until the others get here.

Stepping inside the room I come to a dead stop at what I see. Blanche is covered in blood, Chewy has bruises and a shitty look on her face, and Lovely,myLovely, is in the arms of that bastard Serpiente. Some dark-haired bitch, I’m guessing Renae Sullivan, holds court, standing in the middle of the room, high heels, pencil skirt and silk blouse. Her face goes from docile to predatory when she sees me notice her.

“Oh, yes, he’ll do nicely I think.”

“You don’t touch him, you bitch!” Lovely spits out with such venom it shocks me.

“I’ll do whatever. I. Want,” Renae says, punctuating each with a step closer to me.

Lovely struggles to get out of Serpiente’s arms, fighting until the arm banded around her chest comes up, his hand gripping her throat, squeezing hard enough to cut off her air supply.

“You’ll do well to let go of her. Right. This. Fucking. Instant.” I aim my gun at his head, the bastard grinning at me, pulling back enough that I can’t get a clean shot without risking my woman.

“Uh, uh, uh,” Renae sings, her voice grating on my last fucking nerve. “That’s not how to play nice, is it?”

My head is yanked back roughly by a hand in my hair, and cool metal pierces my throat, just a little, to warn me not to move. I don’t dare take my gaze off my woman. Lovely’s eyes are wide as saucers, filled with tears and yet she doesn’t let them fall. She’s terrified, but I know it’s for me, as the fear in her eyes wasn’t there until I was threatened.

“You gonna be a good boy?” That bitch Renae runs a hand over my chest, down my stomach and over my flaccid cock. Gripping and rubbing trying to get him to work, but he’ll never rise for anyone other than Lovely Landry.

I stare at my woman, the one who makes me want to be a better man. I will her to fight, but I can already see the blood vessels in her eyes have burst. If that motherfucker doesn’t take his hands off her soon, I’ll lose her, the best thing that ever happened to me. My men’s voices drift down from upstairs, each calling out “clear!” as they work through the warren of rooms up there. It seems our lesser numbers have somehow overcome the men who are here to destroy us.

Moving my weight ever so slightly to the balls of my feet I take a deep breath, ready to launch at the dead man with his hands around Lovely’s delicate throat. Distant motorcycle pipes echo through the air and I know the exact moment the power changes hands, panic registering on the face of the bitch who dared lay her hands on me.

Blanche catches my eye, flicking her gaze over my shoulder before staring hard at me. Giving her the smallest chin tilt I launch forward, knocking Renae off her heels with my bulk, slamming her to the ground as I lunge for Serpiente, pure rage fuelling me. I don’t see anything other than this man. His face, his hands, his goddamn evil touching the purest human to ever walk the earth. I don’t know where she is or what is happening in the room, all I see, hear, smell, and feel is him. I hit, pummel, kick, bite, claw, anything and everything. I want to tear him apart, blood whooshing in my head, making it pound with every hit I land.

In one moment I’m deaf and blind, the next, screeching has my attention on Renae, phone in hand, “I need them all, all of you, he’s killing him!” Her eyes are wild and her laugh maniacal as screeching tires and gunfire fill the air outside.

Blanche looks up from Lovely, the man who once held a knife to my throat dead on the floor beside them. “Make her stop, she’s giving me a damned headache!”

Chewy moves like lightning, knocking Renae out cold. “I’m taking her to Pops’ office. Meet you there later.”

Lovely’s big dark eyes find mine, the burst vessels causing fury to rise again, but I tamp it down. Serpiente isn’t going anywhere soon, and my woman needs me.

“I’m here baby, I’m here.”

She crawls into my lap, curled up, so tiny and fragile, her face pressed to my throat. I hold her tight to me, breathing her in, whispering that everything is going to be OK. I have her, and my men have our backs.

She tips her head back, looking me in the eye, “Destroy them, Marx. Destroy them for me and Bee and everyone else who needs them gone to feel safe.” Her voice is rough, barely a whisper but I hear the order.

Looking at Blanche she holds my gaze, then gives me a nod. “You heard the first lady, destroy them.”

I drop a kiss to Lovely’s plump lips, gently move her to the arms of her big sister, then move to stand. Stepping over Serpiente’s broken body, I know he’ll keep until I can get someone to move him to Pops’ office. I’m not quite finished with him yet.

I move like death himself, past another sorry bastard with his head in flames, a guy missing an arm from below the elbow, and a body on the floor, limbs at an impossible angle. Looking up, my brother smirks down at me before shrugging. A laugh builds deep in the pit of my stomach, building up until I’m on the porch, gun in hand, laughing like a mad man. Fuck, I love the DRMC.

Chapter 22

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