Page 69 of Reaper & the Lioness
I pulled out my phone.
Me: On my way.
Merrick: We’re ready for you
The ride to the junkyard blurred in the pre-dawn darkness. The thunderous roar of my bike always served as a balm to the unhealed wounds in my heart after my nightmares.
My resolve hardened as the cool air cleared the last cobwebs of sleep from my mind. I couldn’t protect my mother back then, but I sure as hell could protect Eva now.
Merrick and Hatchet stoically stood guard at the junkyard. I sensed their anticipation despite the dark circles under their eyes.
They’d left Matt untouched, which I knew had taken a lot of control for Merrick. He felt personally responsible for the safetyof every member of our family. The dark desire I had to kill Matt was reflected in his eyes, too.
“How’s Eva?” Merrick asked.
“She’s holding up. But she’s got a lot to process. So do I.”
I knew my men could see the haunted look in my eyes as I considered what could have happened.
Hatchet nodded toward Matt. “I know what will make you feel better.” He gestured toward the table of torture.
“Go stand guard. Make sure we’re not interrupted.”
Hatchet raised an eyebrow, a hint of a smile on his lips. “I’m always missing out on the fun stuff. I care about what happened to Eva, too. I should at least get to cut one finger off.”
Merrick chuckled. “Don’t worry. We’ll make sure you get your turn. I wouldn’t want you to get rusty.”
Hatchet snorted. “Rusty? My skills are sharper than ever.”
I shook my head. Hatchet enjoyed inventing new ways to hold traitors accountable. His methods were as creative as they were cruel. Last year, when we caught a prospect stealing bike parts from our warehouse, Hatchet had turned torture into a performance. He’d taken his time, savoring every whimper and plea as he pressed the edge of a dull set of scissors to bone and muscle, chewing through flesh instead of slicing.
“Let’s get started. I need to be back in time to make breakfast for my woman.”
I stalked toward Matt, my boots crunching on the gritty floor. He sat slumped over in the chair. Fear filled his eyes as he stirred and recognized me. Good. He should be afraid.
A cold, calculated rage settled over me. “Eva might have hesitated. But we won’t.”
He tried to speak, but the duct tape muffled his words. I ripped it off, and he cried out in pain.
“Please. I’m sorry. I didn’t want her to get hurt. I just?—”
My fist connected with his jaw. The satisfying crunch of bone reverberated through the warehouse. His blood sprayed from his mouth, splattering across my knuckles and the floor.
“You handed her over to them,” I snarled, punctuating each word with a blow. “Right now, she can’t breathe without feeling the pain from her bruised ribs. She can’t glance in the mirror without thinking about how you—someone she saw as a friend and ally—betrayed her. You handed her over to a predator who would have killed her. And now, I am going to make you wish you were dead.”
Matt’s face had become a messy web of blood and bruises, but I was far from done. I nodded to Merrick, who handed me a pair of bolt cutters. The cold metal fit in my hand, a tool to carve out my vengeance.
“How should we start? How about a finger for every text you sent to Hale about Eva? How about your tongue for betraying her? Maybe even your eyes because of how you judged the woman I love for being with me?”
His screams echoed off the metal walls as I worked, methodical and relentless. By the time I finished, Matt struggled to remain conscious. His broken, bloody mess of a body slumped in the chair. I stepped back, wiping my hands on a rag with a sense of cold satisfaction.
“End him.”
Merrick nodded and pulled a pistol with a suppressor from his hip. The silenced shot barely echoed. It seemed anticlimactic after all the screaming and begging.
Hatchet stepped back inside with a rusty meat hook swinging from his hand. “Damn it, Reaper. I had some fun ideas for this.”
“Sorry, brother. I guess you’ll need to add it to your collection.”
