Page 62 of Retribution
“You’ve been a very bad boy,” I add, grabbing my bag from the floor. “Due to your actions with your new buddy, everyone is dead. Including your new president.”
There’s fear in Toad’s eyes now, but it's too late for any of that. I indulge in taking my time as I dig my knife into his chest, use a handheld torch to remove his Knotted Anarchy club tattoos, and then pull out a steel pipe that I refuse to keep after what I’m about to do with it.
Spreading Toad’s cheeks, I work the hollow pipe into his asshole without any lube.
“It’s too bad you don’t have any slick to help you out,” I murmur. “Trust me, this isn’t my idea of a good time either. The fire needs to start from up here though. It’s harder to stop if you are the flame from the inside out.”
Yeah, that sounded less fucked in my head, what better way to ruin an MC by turning a fiery cocktail out of a traitor’s asshole.
“If you clench, you’ll bleed more,” I croon under my breath, watching as the pipe destroys his hole.
I can tell that he’s losing his anal virginity to me. Too bad he’ll never be able to shit again. It doesn’t matter, he won’t be living long enough to need to worry about it.
Rolling him over so his face is buried into the dirty mattress, I wrinkle my nose at the sight of his ass pointed in my direction. The naked asshole starts to piss, and I jump up as he soils himself in fear.
I’m billing the loss of my clothing to Devon, because I’m going to have to trash it after this.The scent of cigarettes and urine is pungent as I pull out the acetic anhydride from my bag and pour it down the pipe. Shoving paper down the opening in it, I light it with a match, watching as it begins to burn. Smirking, I decide he can keep his cock instead, and leave him to bleed.
Humming under my breath, I watch as he attempts to flail, but there’s nowhere to go. Taking a few photos of the scene, I pack my shit up and lift the unconscious omega onto my back. She’s curvier than I am, and therefore heavier as well.
Walking with my gun in my palm, I leave the room and shut the door. This needs to stay my little secret while I handle the downstairs area.
Silently walking down the stairs a little faster than before, I balance Brea on my back as I glance around for anyone who may have woken up to use the bathroom or grab a smoke while I was clearing the house.
That’s exactly what happens on the second floor as an alpha comes around the corner appearing sleepy. He has a Reaping Marauders tattoo on his arm, which is the same Latin across Macon’s chest and a one eyed skull.
His greeting from me is a shot in the eye that’s silent and kills him immediately. My heartbeat is still calm as I continue down to the ground floor and kill every MC member there. The sedative worked exactly the way I expected it to.
I’ll have to restock from the person I bought it from because I wanted to know how well it worked first before dropping five thousand dollars on a well stocked supply.
Continuing to carry Brea, I leave the clubhouse and change out the clip in my gun since I’ve been counting how many I had left. My bag is tightly secured to my chest, giving me the freedom of movement.
I find every guard and kill them before walking out to my SUV, cursing as I realize I left my favorite leather jacket.
“Fuck,” I whisper, opening the trunk to deposit the MC Princess.
She moans under her breath, and I pull another syringe from my bag to inject into her neck. The last thing I need is for her to scream and complain while I’m driving to Minneapolis. Sighing after I push the sedative into her vein, I shut the back door and get into the SUV.
I can park closer to the clubhouse now that the bikers are all dead. It took me exactly fifty-nine minutes to decimate the club, and I need to finish things now.
I open the shitty gate once I get there and then drive inside, ensuring that my vehicle can’t be seen from the road.
Safety first, after all.
Shutting off the car, I hop out and lock up as I jog back inside, my gun in my hand again as I move. My bag is still slung across my chest and I try less to be silent as I head to the top floor.
Opening the door, I move around the flaming beta on the bed as I grab my jacket. The fire is already spreading up the walls, and I have to duck out of the room while cursing myself for being so stupid as to go back inside.
Acetic anhydride is known for burning skin, which means Toad is being burned from the inside out. That’s a horrific way to die, and perfect for a traitor. I know Devon trusted him.
Entering the rooms with the sweet butts that were fucking the dead bikers, I use my knife to cut through their zip ties and leave. If they have any sense of self preservation, they’ll wake up and get out in time.
As I pass the sweet butt on the landing of the second floor, I grab her arm and begin pulling her down the stairs. She thumps down loudly, but at least she’ll live. I grab another one once I’m downstairs and pull them out until they’re in the yard. I return with my jacket on and continue until the sweet butts on the lower level are out of the house.
I’m at the door glancing around the structure that’s beginning to smell like smoke when I hear women waking up. There’s muted screams as they run, tripping over each other as I hide behind the door.
They still have duct tape on their mouths, but that’s the least of their problems.
The sweet butts leave the unconscious women in the yard and continue running, which works for me. It’ll be cold, but that’s their business.
