Taking me by surprise, Mason slams his mouth over mine and kisses me thoroughly, earning us a round of applause from the brothers in the room. “I love it when you call me by my given name.” Kissing the tip of my nose, he bellows. “Trix, Daisy, Rita,Flick, get this room spring-cleaned. Do it right, or you’ll keep doing it until I’m satisfied.”
The club women who had been lounging around the bar groan, then give me a nasty look before walking out of the room. Mason kisses my nose again before walking away.
As Mason leaves the clubhouse, the brothers follow him out. I walk into the kitchen and see Bessy looking out of the window as the brothers walk up to the top of the compound.
“Are they going to do what I think they are going to do?” I look at Bessy.
“Probably they are going to do what you think they are going to do,” Bessy replies.
“Oh!” That is all I say because I really don’t want to know what they are going to do to the man. Whatever it is he deserves it, but I hope if they do, you know, get rid of him, they can do it leaving no evidence.
*Don’t worry, Cilla. They have an acid bath*
“Bono, you didn’t have to tell me that. No, you did not have to tell me that. Now you have planted that image in my head, and it will never leave.”
Chapter 17
TRACKER
Stepping into the shed, I walk to the side of the room and say nothing. The best way to unnerve assholes like Snake is to observe, and before you know it, they will start speaking, and I mean it will flow out of them.
“Ah, the great Tracker himself appears. Don’t want your minions to do your dirty work this time, hey, Pres?” Snake snidely says, but I ignore his comment.
Cap enters and takes a position next to me, saying nothing. He knows the routine, as does Snake, but when you’re on the wrong side of what’s happening, it is entirely different.
Yawning, which always makes any asshole in the chair nervous, I mean literally in the chair. Snake is chained to a chair which is bolted to the floor. The chair, by the way, is metal, so it’s not at all comfortable. You know we wouldn’t want ourgueststo feel too welcome now, would we?
Finger, Hot Rod, and Rides walk in and give me a nod as they take positions around the room. It is becoming more intimidating by the minute. I’m surprised he has been able to keep his silence so long, but it is coming. I can see it in the beads of sweat forming on his forehead, at the way his hands are clenching and unclenching. It must be uncomfortable being chained to the chair like that, and his wrists are already showing red marks from where they are cuffed.
“You know you’ll never get away from what is going to happen, right? Taking my clothes off, really?” Snake snarls.
Yeah, I knew he was going to talk. I flick my eyes to Hot Rod who is smirking and not trying to hide the fact. I roll my eyes at him, which has him chuckling in response.
Snake continues, “ZeBach knows the number of brothers, where they work, if they are fuckin’ someone.”
None of us responds, but we now know how deeply Snake has betrayed us all. He will be ended today for his sins. I see Cap is struggling not to kill the fucker, but he knows he has to wait until I’m ready for this asshole to breathe his last breath.
“You’ll find out too late.”Snake laughs, and it leaves a nasty feeling in my gut. There is no point, however, in trying to get an answer to what he’s said because it’s exactly what he wants.
The door opens, and Bowie pops his head into the room. “Pres, do you want me to, you know, get things rolling?”
“Why not, Bowie? Do your thing,” I reply with a deadpan face. Snake, however, jerks in his seat, knowing exactly what is going to happen. “Start with his legs,” I suggest.
“You got it, Pres.” Bowie takes out his knife and walks over to Snake, giving him a look that says this is going to hurt.
With his legs locked down to the floor there is nothing Snake can do but scream. He can’t move out of the way, and screaming obscenities at Bowie is like water running off a duck's back.
“This is why you have no clothes,” Bowie snarls before he makes a cut, then a long one from ankle to just under Snake's knee. Repeating the process until he has an oblong cut. What happens next is something we’ve all seen before. Bowie places his knife under the top of the cut and peels the skin from Snake’s leg.
“Good job, Bowie,” Rides says and steps forward to admire the cut. “Can you teach me?”
Bowie looks at Rides, and seeing he means it and is eager to have a try, hands him the knife. The next ninety minutes we spend watching Rides learn how to peel the skin from a living person. The screams we ignore, and the cursing and comments from Snake are ignored, too. Nothing is going to stop us from killing this bastard. It is just a matter of how long it takes.
Hot Rod leans towards me and states clearly so all can hear, especially Snake. “Do you think we can finish this now, Pres? Because you know it is lunchtime and Bessy said she was going to make enchiladas for lunch.”
I speak for the first time since walking into the shed. “Is she now?” Hot Rod nods his head, and we both flick our eyes to Snake who is a wreck at this point. He has no skin on his arms, legs, or even his cheeks. Nodding to Bowie, “Okay, get it done, and let’s go eat.”
I had no sooner gotten the words out of my mouth when Cap put a bullet in Snake's forehead.