48. Dutton
CHAPTER 48
Dutton
I left her, even though it killed me. I told her I would take her to pick up Bentley when I returned. And she told me a non-negotiable time to be back, or she would get him herself.
I glance at the watch on my wrist, then smile as I turn my focus back to Bobbi, who is currently trying to wiggle on the bed he’s strapped to.
“You can remove the gag,” I tell Ford, ignoring the other two men who are tied against the wall.
Ford is holding two crowbars. I always thought they were crude weapons, like Hawke’s spiked gloves. But I suppose we all have our things , I think as I eye the knife my cousin is holding for me.
Ford does as instructed, and Eli watches from his seat on top of a crate. I understand I’ve cost him a lot of money in this deal. But, somehow, I’ll make it up to him. I’m not one to usually create trouble for others, especially my family. But for her and Bentley, I was willing to set the world on fire, fuck the consequence.
I never understood love until now.
Provider.
Protector.
I was all of these things. I just hadn’t found the right family to whom to extend my unwavering loyalty.
“Picked the wrong woman to hit,” Ford says as he steps to the side. Hawke sneers as he sits beside the two club members. They’re a distant blur in my mind as I remove my suit jacket, roll up my sleeves, and wash my hands. Then I turn to face him. His eyes scan the room, and he grunts, trying to break free of his restraints. Oh yes, that knife is still in his belly, too.
When his gaze lands on me, his eyes widen in fear. I take the knife from Eli and approach the bed. I want this arrogant asshole to see the monster he picked a fight with clearly.
“Do you feel powerful picking on women and children?” I ask, looming over him in the same way I know he’s done to countless women.
“Please. You can have the bitch. I’ll leave and never come back,” he snivels.
I crack my neck from side to side. “You have a brain, correct?” He nods in answer. “Do you honestly believe calling her a bitch is helping your situation at all?”
“All fucking women are bitches and disposable,” he says, a little bite coming back into his tone, then grunts as he tries to move again.
I smirk, not needing any more ammunition why this fucker needs to die.
Women are the best, literally the fucking best. And this piece of shit has no idea how to treat a woman. I reach for the knife in his stomach. I like that knife, so I want it back. He cries from the pain when I yank it out none-to-gently, then I discard it on the floor and lift the other one in my hand.
This is when he realizes his words about women aren’t going to help him. When he starts pleading for his life. And, to be honest, I’ve already begun to block him out.
I always believed that no one could love this part of my life, but I was mistaken.
“You can have her!” he screams.
“You say it like she was yours to give,” I reply calmly.
I place the tip of the blade at the bottom of his shirt and slide it up, cutting through it and his vest and exposing his stomach and chest. His hands are tied above his head, and he tries relentlessly to pull them free. But he doesn’t have any luck, and I don’t plan on untying him anytime soon. I study his chest, which is covered in hair, and wonder what work of art I’m going to create on this canvas today. I do plan to kill him, but first, I want to play.
“If you kill me, they’ll come for you. You’ll start a war!” he shouts.
Eli then speaks up. “That’s our decision to make. You fucked up thinking my deal with Striker would make us look the other way while you terrorized my cousin’s woman and her child.”
Eli spoke with Striker the moment it was revealed that Bobbi was an abusive motherfucker. Striker decided to turn a blind eye to what we had planned for him. Apparently, much has changed in the last year since Striker took over the club, and those who held old values were still being flushed out. The two goons who decided to follow Bobbi were simply caught in the crossfire, and by default, we’d clean up the mess.
Though Striker did confess that if word got out we finished them, there might be backlash in the form of other club members coming for us. I can’t disagree with it, considering I’d do the same.
Once I’ve decided what I want to carve, I take a deep breath and begin. Bobbi whimpers at the first light touch of the cool blade to his skin. And when I apply pressure, piercing his skin and making the initial slice, he screams in earnest.
He wails in agony and tries to see what I’m doing as I carve her name into his skin. When I’m done, I shoot him a satisfied smirk.
“H-how c-could you,” he stammers, tears running down his face.
“How could you hit her, not once but twice?” I growl. I step back and head to the sink, tossing my knife into it. “Don’t worry, it won’t be there for long. I’ll peel it off shortly. I just wanted you to remember what put you in this situation to begin with.”
It is time to have fun with my prey.
I’ll take my time ruining him because there is no amount of torture I could inflict on him to ever make amends for the hell he put my woman through all these years.