Page 16 of The Thief
“You picked the wrong place and the wrong fucking people to shit on. You do know that, right?” Adam hissed as he led the way down the corridor to the asylum chapel, an add-on to the building that we’d kept separate from the rest of the club.
It was where Devon stockpiled his weapons and the place we brought anyone who needed to disappear. Visit the chapel, and you’d be leaving in a body bag; there was no doubt about that. We loved how poetic it was. Face our religion, and you’ll find the death you deserve, or some bullshit like that.
As Adam stalked forward, we followed, dragging the twofuckers we’d just taken off the floor of our club along with us.
“Nobody comes into our home and pisses all over us. You’re dead men walking,” Adam growled as he pushed the wooden door to the chapel open.
Then he spun around, taking one of Devon’s knives from the side. He grabbed the first guy within reach and slammed his arm against the doorframe, before stabbing the knife through his hand. The guy screamed in pain, a slur of curse words spilling free as he stared in disbelief at where his bloody hand was pinned. Instantly, he started to panic, panting and begging as the sweat rolled down his face, or were they tears? Probably both.
Adam gave no mercy. He never did. Instead, he twisted the knife to inflict more pain before yanking it out.
That was Adam, you see.An act first, think and ask questions later kind of guy. It’s why we called him the psycho of the group. He really didn’t give a fuck, and we loved him for it.
Not that we needed to ask that many questions. We knew they were guilty. That’s why we’d brought them here. But Adam was impulsive; he cared about what we’d created. He’d do anything to protect what was ours and that included our reputation, our club, and its guests.
The guy gasped for breath, grabbing his arm, staring at his bloody hand like it wasn’t his. His words were slurred as he watched the blood oozing down his wrist. For an evil fucker, he played the part of a clueless coward really fucking well.
We pushed him forward, and he stumbled as we dragged the other one into the chapel and then slammed the door shut.
Adam glared at them as Devon stalked over to his armoury wall to take down a few swords and knives. The men’s eyes darted from Adam’s furious glare to where Devon stood. The fearevident on their pale faces. Eyes bulging as Devon walked back over to us and began to hand out the weapons.
“This is our club. Our home,” Adam seethed. “And you”—he held up the hunting knife Devon had given him and stepped forward, pushing it into the first guy’s neck as he spoke—“brought your filthy shit in here to sell. You disrespected us and our guests. Drugs. Selling to people who have no idea about the dodgy shit you’ve cut into your product. Flour. Baking soda. Chlorine. Horse shit. Whatever it is you’ve put in there, it’s shit that’ll get them killed.” He pushed on the knife, and blood began to trickle down the guy’s throat as they both snivelled in fear. “They don’t come here for that. Our guests are safe here. We make sure of that...” Adam leaned into the guy’s face and sneered, “But you’re not.”
“We didn’t do it,” the guy closest to us begged. “You’ve got the wrong guys.”
“We don’t make mistakes,” Devon stated, lifting his chin as he stared down the blade of his Katana sword to check its sharpness.
“But if you need reminding…” Adam tilted his head, a deadly psychotic glint in his eyes as he glanced over the guy’s shoulder to look at me. “Tyler can show you.”
My skills had improved since I was fourteen. Times had changed. To be the best thief, you had to keep up with the times. My pick-pocketing and petty theft had turned into hacking and other more sophisticated crimes. Skills that gave me an edge in this digital age. I took my phone out of my back pocket, clicked onto our CCTV and held it in front of the guy’s face, so he could watch the moment he sold his shitty drugs to a group of women outside the toilets.
“Happy?” Adam grinned as the guy shook his head. “Need to see more?”
“No,” he rasped, and Adam took a step back, staring around the room at each of us and holding his arms out.
“What do you think? An eye for an eye?”
The guy whipped his head around to look at his mate behind him, terror in his eyes as his head swung back to focus on Adam.
Colton stepped up and stood beside Adam with a wicked smirk on his face.
“I think these gentlemen know exactly what we’re capable of. But if they aren’t aware of our reputation in this town”—he made an effort to peer around the chapel with pride—“then they only need to look at Devon’s armoury to see what we stand for.” Colton lowered his head to glare at them like thecrazy joker he was. “Maybe tonight, we’ll let you choose your weapons. Not that you’ll get to use them. Feel them, yes, but... you didn’t play fair tonight, selling your dirty shit in our home. And guess what? We don’t play fair either.” Colton finished his threats with a contradictory wink.
Will walked over to Colton and handed him a machete, but Colton gave a low, rumbling laugh, lifted it up, then shrugged. “I think the punishment needs to reflect the crime.”
He swung the machete by his side as he moved closer to both men, who now stood together as we circled them. “I think you need to understand exactly what it is you’ve done.” Colton turned to face me. “Tyler, empty their pockets.”
“Already done,” I stated, dropping the clear bags of wraps, pills, and a wad of cash onto the table beside me.
“Nice.” Colton nodded to himself, then strolling over to the table, he put his machete down so he could pick up a bag ofpills. “I think you need to put your money where your mouth is.” He shook the bag, and with an evil grin, he narrowed his gaze on both men. “I did think giving you a Chelsea smile might help you remember your manners, but maybe you need to do a little sampling instead. If you think your stuff is the shit and worth coming in here, disrespecting us and pissing us off, then you’d better try it and see if you’re right.”
He opened the bag and poured some of the pills into the palm of his hand.
“I like it,” Adam affirmed with a nod as the two men clamped their mouths shut, their eyes bulging and breath ragged. “An eye for an eye, indeed.”
“Just make sure they don’t make a mess all over my chapel floor,” Devon warned. “When their guts dissolve from the inside and they choke on their vomit, I don’t want to be the one cleaning that shit off the flagstone.”
Both men started to beg, pleading and crying like it’d help their cause.
