22. Chapter 22
Chapter 22
Wolf
My nose stings from the smell of charred flesh and I rise from where I’ve been waiting in the corner. Spyder clearly has a high threshold for pain but I’m tired of listening to him mock us while he writhes around with his dick flopping in the air.
I didn’t want to leave the clubhouse because I don’t know who I can trust but we won’t know who the traitor in our midst is without questioning this fuck.
Instead, I made sure that Toni keeps an eye out and threatened every single brother with torture before we left. Still, I’m consumed by worry as Jersey works this piece of shit over.
Meanwhile, Spyder seems to be mocking us. I no more want to touch the damn thing than the others, but this one needs his cock. I mean, we all do, don’t get me wrong but Spyder has inextricably linked pleasure with pain.
If I remove it, what happens to the pleasure? Does it become just pain?
Jersey eyes me curiously as I pick up a long, serrated knife and approach Spyder. He’s panting, his chest dotted with sweat but his lips curve in a sly smile as I approach and he says, “Your turn, pretty boy?”
Pulling up my own smirk, I show him the knife and grab his dick. He hisses and I grit my teeth. When he undulates beneath me, I raise a brow, and this is when Spyder freezes. That’s right, fucker. I don’t give a shit.
“My dad taught me a lot when I was a kid, but the one thing that sticks with me…,” I say, glancing at him. He eyes me warily as I squeeze his cock, and he arches into the air. Despite the fucked-up circumstances, I smile as I say, “He taught me that fuckers like you all bleed the same.”
With that, I take the knife and start sawing against his boner. I admit, I’m repulsed by the whole thing but if making him a eunuch gets the job done, I’m willing to get dirty.
“How is your dad, by the way?” he grits through his teeth, sweat dotting his brow.
As much as I’d like to know what he does about my father, right now, my focus is Rose.
I’ve barely broken the skin though when Spyder breaks and says, “What do you want?”
Tsking, I go back to sawing, the weird resistance as I cut through the skin sending shivers down my spine. A trickle of blood makes my fingers slick but I’m fine if it’s a bloody, messy fucking cut because I want this to be the last nightmare this fucker remembers.
“Okay,” he screams, and I pause. We lock eyes but he merely stares at me until I bark, “Well? I’m waiting. Where’s my fucking sister?”
“They took her to the clubhouse.”
“Which is where?” I ask, twisting the knife now halfway through is dick. Between finding Rose and exposing the mole while trying to figure out what the sheriff wants, my threshold for patience is gone.
This fucker is about to learn the hard way that you don’t mess with the Saints.
With a groan, Spyder wrenches against the bindings around his wrists and pants, “We set up at the old church thing. Off highway 15.”
Several years ago, a fire broke out during a church camp and the flames destroyed everything, but a single building used as storage. Since a few kids were hurt and the church leaders were left looking like assholes, they abandoned the property and it’s been vacant since.
“The church camp?” I grunt and he nods. “What about the soon-to-be dead fucker who’s been feeding you information?”
“I don’t know,” he says.
“Wrong answer.” I go back to my work, and he screams, “I don’t know! He’s never shown his face.”
Pausing, I turn to him and raise a brow. “And the sheriff?”
He frowns and I tighten my hold on his dick. “The pig came to us a year ago.”
“Why?”
He glances at the knife in my hand, and I twist it until he grunts and says, “Man’s got a hard on for you.”
“The Saints?” I ask with a trickle of awareness.
Despite the pain he must be in, he still manages to smirk as he says, “Nope. You.”
Is this why the Aces took Rose? To get to me? Why would the sheriff do that to his own granddaughter?
Fuck me.
When I step back and drop the knife, Spyder sags to the table. While he pants and prays to a god that surely abandoned his ass a long time ago, I pick up the handsaw and tug on the cord.
After confirming it’s plugged in, I turn it on. Spyder whips around and I meet his gaze before I turn to his dick and proceed to saw that shit right off.
His screams bounce around in my head which have died down to a whimper when I’m done.
Throwing the saw on the table, I pause when Jersey slaps my back and says, “You want a job?”
Lilli
Toni eyes me curiously as she ushers me into another room. This one appears to be a media room with two televisions on opposite walls along with several cushy couches and reclining chairs.
Reminded of what happens on the furniture, I sit gingerly while Toni approaches a bar against the wall and says, “Drink?”
Although alcohol is the last thing I want, I still have this insatiable need to fit in with Wolf’s people which is why I say, “Um, yes. Thanks.”
After a moment in which the only sound is the clinking of glass and ice, Toni returns. She hands me a drink and I eye it curiously as she sits down opposite me.
The red liquid swirls as I take a sip. It’s nothing like the beer I tried before, and I decide I like the tart taste as I settle into the cushions.
“You were at Wolf’s earlier,” Toni says.
I don’t sense any hostility from her, so I shrug and say, “Yeah.”
She eyes me for a minute before saying, “You’re different.”
If I had a dollar for every time someone said that I’d be as rich as those televangelists Daddy hates on television.
There’s no disputing the point though, so I shrug again.
“Look,” she says. “Wolf’s not…he’s not the type to settle down.”
Averting my gaze, I damn the flush staining my cheeks. He never made any promises, but I hoped his statement about not needing a harem meant more.
However, at this point, I don’t even know what I want. Even if he were the type to settle down, is that what I need? To be with a grumpy MC biker who himself confessed to being a murderer.
With a sigh, I mumble, “Maybe I’m just using him for…you know…sex.”
She smiles and I can’t help my smirk. This inspires laughter and I slurp the last of my drink while she collects herself before saying, “Can I have another?”