Page 93 of King of Cruelty

“N-no—” He croaked, punching and clawing at my thighs. “St—op! St—”

I wrenched to the side, snapping his rotted neck in two.

I kicked his fucking corpse away, getting to my feet and snapping my binds over my knee.

“They’re dead.” I kicked in my door, and pulled off the wall the weapons too heavy, impractical, and attention-grabbing for Wilson to fling out the window. “They’re all fucking dead.”

Loaded up, crushing despair followed me out the door—choking the air out of my lungs. I promised I’d protect her. That knowing me and being in my family’s orbit would never put her in danger. I promised her... and I failed.

I kicked open the door to the back staircase, praying I’d meet one of them on the stairs.

No one dared to cross my path, but the staircase wasn’t empty. A cacophony of voices bounced up the walls and assaulted my ears.

Laughing, jeering, celebrating, and congratulating themselves on breaking into my home, holding my family, friends, and crew hostage, and moving into the apartments dear old Mom and Dad stole by volunteering to be beaten and chained to a wall—all the while ignoring the innocent women who did not willingly sign up for the experience.

I’d be going down there to kill them twice, but first—

“Debra.”

I hefted my double-headed battle-ax, and cleaved the doorknob in two.

It clattered to the floor, coming apart and making its twin on the other side fall on the carpet with a dull thud.

Storming inside, I didn’t pause at Liam’s door. I shoved it open and caught a flash of someone running past the entrance to the hallway—no doubt headed for Liam’s bathroom.

For decades my parents, then my eldest brother, kept that flash drive safe. And I gave it up with one phone call.

I’d do it again for Kenzie. I’d go back and sell out everything my family’s worked forbetterif it meant my girl didn’t spend her last moments in pain.

I crept to the door of Liam’s room, hearing someone rummaging around inside. The door swung open on oiled hinges.

My ax led the way, screaming out to split open Debra Seward’s skull.

Sunny was named Demone on the streets for the unhinged smiling psycho he unleashed on his unsuspecting victims. River was the Rat King for building the biggest, fastest-growing gang in all of Cinco—with a crew that was anyone, everywhere, always watching, always listening, and always on the move.

But I was Bane—by birth and by reputation, because when I had prey in my sights, I don’t stop. I don’t sleep. And I don’t feel remorse as I relentlessly hunt them down, following them to the ends of the earth to extract every ounce of agony and regret from their flayed bones.

It wouldn’t just be Wilson and Debra who met their violent ends that day. I would sweep through every floor of the building, and separate from the necks the heads of every brother who entered this building.

And then I would hunt down every brother outside of this building.

And then I would kill the silent, greedy rich fuckers who funded them.

And then I’d mutilate the people who didn’t join, but knew about it and didn’t stop it.

And then I’d destroy the apathetic fucks who overheard a rumor about the Brotherhood and shrugged it off.

And then I’d kill all of their friends.

And then I’d go back, find their graves, dig them up, salt their bones, piss on them, then light them on fire.

There’d be no memory that the Brotherhood ever existed, because no one would be able to hold on to that memory with their brain matter smeared on my battle-ax.

I pressed the ax to the bathroom door, quietly pushing it open.

I almost dropped it.

“—you won’t have that outcome without this.” Mackenzie Blaine, whole and untouched, slipped the drive into her pocket. “All that pride and arrogance, Deb-Deb. It’s made you so stupid, you can’t see you already pulled the greatest coup in underground history, but you’re going to mess it all up because you’re a dumbass.”

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