Chapter 20
My brothers insisted on assisting me by removing Neely’s cuffs and the rope tying him to the chair.
They got him down on his hands and knees.
When he attempted to rise, I kicked him in the ribs.
The way he flinched made me believe someone had bruised them for him.
He hadn’t screamed, so they weren’t broken.
With him in this position, I decided to start with the whip.
He needed some nice, raw lashes to go with the bruises, other cuts, and burns.
I admit, I got satisfaction in laying into him.
Unlike the lashes Butcher placed on Michelle, these cut the skin, leaving them painfully open.
Blood coated his skin along with the open cuts by the time I was finished.
My enforcer gave me a nod of approval. Neely was shaking and sobbing.
He’d fallen to his chest on the floor. He was huddled in child’s pose.
I walked off to grab an old blanket we had in here. I folded it as I brought it back to him. My club was leaning against walls, crouched, or standing around watching avidly. There were extra chairs if they wanted them, but they seemed fine as they were.
Back beside my “bull”, I forced him back to his hands and knees by hitting him a few times with the crop.
He scrambled then to assume the position.
When he was in place, I proceeded to wrap the bull rope around him as if he were a bull I planned to ride in the arena.
He wiggled to get away, but a brutal hit with the crop stopped all movement.
Tossing the blanket over his back, I introduced another piece of equipment.
I expertly put the spurs on my boots. They gleamed due to the overhead lighting.
I gave them a whirl. The sound they made caused Neely to cringe.
He was watching my every move with dread.
I went back to my woman’s creeper after putting on the spurs and swung a leg over him.
I settled myself in the middle of his back, right where the back swayed in a bit on the thoracic spine.
I was six feet two to his five feet ten.
And my two hundred and twenty-five pounds of pure muscle was stacked against his probably one hundred and seventy-five pounds.
He had soft muscles. You would think someone who wrestles with large animals all the time would be more muscular.
He groaned when my full weight dropped on him.
“Don’t you dare drop down. If you do, I’ll lash you until you can’t breathe,” I threatened.
Wrapping my one hand under the bull rope, I put the other in the air.
It held the crop. Toretto held up his phone, and a convincing bullhorn sounded from it.
I took it as the signal and kicked both spurs into Neely’s ribs.
I dug in those sharp rowels. As he screamed in agony, I brought the crop down on his shoulders.
The cuts from the whip were inflamed anew.
I was merciless in my punishment. No matter how he begged, cried, bled, or screamed, I hit him over and over as I dug those spurs into his sides. I had lost the concept of time. Diablo and Wolverine were the ones who freed me from my punishment cycle.
“Cowboy, he’s almost done for. He’s barely feeling it anymore. I think it’s time to end this, brother. Finish him off, then you can go home to Sari. She’s safe now,” Diablo said.
It took me a minute to let what he said fully sink in.
When it did, I swung off my ride. Neely collapsed flat on his front.
He was moaning and seemed barely conscious.
Blood had run off him and pooled on the floor.
As I stood there, I realized I hadn’t considered what the killing strike would be. Wolverine got my attention.
“Cowboy, this is what you need. It’s poetic. He’s an animal who needs to be put down. Why not euthanize him like one would a bull or horse?”
I liked the idea immensely, but “How? I don’t know how it was done. Vets were always the ones who did it at home or at the rodeo. No way will I ask Anya to come do it.”
“You don’t need to. She asked me to give this to you. Your old lady understands you, Cowboy. I don’t know if you shared what you planned to do to him, but this is perfect.” He removed the hand behind his back. Clutched in it was a needle on a syringe and a bottle of medication.
“What is it? Did she say how much to give him? What will it do? I don’t exactly want to give him relief as he dies.”
“She said this is pentobarbital sodium. It’s a barbiturate.
They add other shit to make it as painless as possible.
He’ll still feel something. He’ll know what you gave him and what’s to come.
It’s more psychological than physical pain.
Sari told me it’ll rapidly depress his central nervous system, causing him to become unconscious.
He’ll stop breathing and go into cardiac arrest,” Wolverine finished explaining.
Was this whole thing a horrible ordeal? Yes. Was I fucked in the head for dreaming it up? Most likely. Could I live with what I did later? Yes.
“Will you draw it up for me? I’m ready to get this carcass out of here,” I drawled.
Efficiently, Wolverine had a syringe full of the medication drawn up.
“If you’ll allow me. This will go faster if it’s administered in a vein rather than the muscle,” our medic explained.
“Be my guest, and thank you.”
Wolverine went and hunkered next to a gasping, sobbing Neely.
The smell of piss was strong in the air.
I wondered when he pissed himself. Rolling him onto his back, Wolverine found a vein in his forearm and inserted the needle perfectly.
Pressing the plunger, the liquid flowed into the bloodstream.
After he removed the needle, I said one final thing to Jordan Neely.
“You’re being euthanized. It’s probably more than you deserve. You can thank Anya for it. Goodbye. We won’t remember you.”
I stood impassive as he drifted away. The end was a relief, though anticlimactic. A hand landing on my shoulder pulled my attention away from him. It was Scorpion.
“We’ll dispose of the remains. I planned to feed him to Gnawbert, but with that drug in his body, I don’t want to risk killing our buddy. We’ll find another way to dispose of him. You don’t worry about it. Go home. Have a shower. Hold your woman.”
Giving him a nod and a “Thank you,” I went to our president.
“Pres, VP said he’d handle the rest. Am I good to go? Or is there something we need to talk about or do?”
“I think there’s been enough for tonight. Go. We’ll be back soon ourselves. Nice job.”
And just like that, I was backslapped by each of my brothers and then sent out to my bike. I opened up the throttle as I zoomed back to the house. A shower was the first order of business. After that, it was my wildling. I had something I wanted to do.