Chapter 19
The contract was signed. The club brothers outside the building had been brought inside, and only a couple were left to patrol.
They gathered in a large circle around Jean-Baptiste and me.
Hugo was seated in a chair where he could watch.
He was pale. His son had removed his suit jacket, tie, and dress shirt.
He was physically fit, and I was no more than an inch taller than he was.
He clearly worked out the same as I did.
When it came to muscle mass, we were closely matched.
However, I had something he didn’t. Jean-Baptiste Jacquot didn’t have the upbringing I had.
He never had to fight for his very existence over and over again.
“Let’s get this show on the road so we can get out of here,” he cockily said as he smirked at me. I stood there, still fully dressed.
I shrugged out of my jacket and handed it to Cobra.
Then, my gun was handed off to him. Next to come off was my Kevlar vest. It was a relief to get that heavy thing off.
The final item to be removed was my shirt.
When I took it off, I heard Rémi and Hugo's swift inhalations. Even though I was covered in tattoos, in this light, the underlying scars stood out in relief. I watched Jean-Baptiste’s eyes widen.
I cracked my neck one way and then the other. I was loose and ready.
“Let’s play,” I told him.
Jean-Baptiste charged me and swung like I knew he would.
He was too hot-headed to wait and test the waters or to size up his opponent.
I easily sidestepped his charge and swing.
He went sailing by me. My brothers snickered.
The bastard stumbled to a stop, swung around, and glared at me.
I smirked at him. Again, he came at me. I slipped his punch easily.
“Fight me, you fils de pute, son of a bitch!” he shouted.
As I toyed with him, I studied his moves.
I saw how he balanced and positioned his feet before throwing a punch, how high he raised his arms, how he recovered, how long it took him to recover, and a dozen more moves.
When it came to actual fighting, you learned these things.
He’d never had to fight. I knew every way there was to battle dirty and more martial arts than he could dream of—none of which I planned to use on him.
I could beat him without those. However, would he try to do the same? I highly doubted it.
He was cautiously moving in a circle and feinting to trick me into throwing a punch.
I acted like I wasn’t fully paying attention to him for the first time.
He took the opening, slid close, and threw his fist at my head.
I blocked it with my left arm while I struck with my right.
He staggered back and shook his head. I had news for him that wasn’t nearly full strength.
To fuck with his head, I taunted him. “Hurry it up. I have a woman at home warming my bed. She’s waiting for me to show her what a real man is like. She told me you kept asking her out, and she said no.”
I paused and slightly turned toward my brothers to ask, “Do you know what she told me was her reason?” They murmured no or shook their heads.
I added, “Lakelyn said that she saw Jean-Baptiste as a spoiled, needy boy who couldn’t find a woman’s pussy with a detailed map.” I chuckled. This caused a loud round of snickers and laughter.
As I knew it would, this infuriated Jean-Baptiste.
His face turned almost purple as a bellow of utter rage broke free from him, and he charged me.
He was swinging wildly and even kicking at me.
Some glanced off me or landed, but weren’t forceful enough to do damage.
However, mine, in return, were. I kicked him in the thigh, causing him to get a dead leg.
He collapsed to one knee. He had to stop to rub the spot on his leg.
He couldn’t bear weight. Jean-Baptiste glared at me.
“She never said that. Lakelyn liked the chase. I indulged her for too long. I should’ve taken what I wanted long ago. I can promise you, when I leave here, she’ll decide to go with me,” he snarled at me.
“You have to beat me, and that’s not happening. Oh, wait, did I say beat? My bad. It was meant to be that whoever wasn’t killed would go free. It won’t be you.”
Hugo whimpered. He knew what I meant when I initially said it. It was clear that his son hadn’t. Jean-Baptiste quickly masked his unease, but I knew he was still thinking about it as he stumbled to his feet. He tried to appear nonchalant.
“Beat your ass, kill your ass, whatever. The result is guaranteed. You’re dead, and I’ll make sure Lakelyn is mine for as long as I want. I’ll use her in ways you never thought of.”
“It’ll never happen, but for argument’s sake, say he did lose, and she becomes yours. It would be a guarantee that she’d kill you herself. You might think she’s weak and easily led. Lakelyn isn’t. Our Royal Highness is a badass,” Satyr told him.
“Royal Highness! Are you joking? She’s at best a cut above the lowest class,” Jean-Baptiste sneered.
“If that’s the case, then you’re subzero gutter trash,” Charmer informed Jean-Baptiste.
I didn’t tell them to shut up. If they wanted to razz him, it was fine by me.
However, I stayed alert. I wouldn’t ease my warrior mode.
Even gutter trash could get lucky, and I had too much to live for.
I always wanted to be part of my club family, but Lakelyn made me dream of something more.
Something I thought was a pipe dream—a woman who loved me, and I loved her, and children of my own.
“Shut the fuck up!” Jean-Baptiste snarled. The guys kept laughing.
“Tyrant, s'il vous pla?t, je vous en supplie. Ne nous tuez pas, ni mon fils, ni moi, please, I’m begging you. Don’t kill my son or me,” Hugo begged hoarsely.
“Père! Don’t beg this batard, bastard, for anything. I can kill him,” Jean-Baptiste barked.
Ignoring his son’s outburst, I addressed Hugo. “There is nothing you can say or do that’ll spare his life or yours. I’d start begging the Devil to go easy on you both for your sins, though I highly doubt he’ll listen.”
Jean-Baptiste lunged at me. I saw the momentary shine coming from his hand.
I reacted by grabbing his wrist and breaking it.
This caused him to scream in agony and open his clenched hand.
A knife hit the floor. I intentionally hadn’t had him further searched after he gave up his gun.
I figured he’d have another weapon and wanted to see if he’d try to use it.
His move removed any restraint on my part not to fight dirty.
As he held his wrist and panted in pain, I let go after kicking the knife out of his reach.
I went into the zone I went to when I was battling for the protection of my country, my family, and my life.
I became a machine. One part of my brain vaguely noted that Jean-Baptiste tried to block me and fight back, but it wasn’t important.
I proceeded to beat him to a pulp. I heard Hugo screaming for mercy.
I had none. A monster had taken over, and its sole goal was to annihilate this punk-ass bitch.
The images in my head of what he’d do to Lakelyn or River if he won fueled me.
I didn’t know how long it lasted, but when I came out of it, Jean-Baptiste was a huddled, bloody mass on the floor.
His father’s sobs further muffled his son’s barely audible moans.
Hugo dropped out of his chair and fell to his knees.
He crawled to his son. I was breathing hard as I took in the scene.
I’d beaten Jean-Baptiste’s whole body, but his face in particular.
It was unrecognizable. The loud wheezing sounds told me that he wasn’t long for this world.
Blood gurgled in the back of his throat.
I dispassionately sneered down at him. His eyes were almost completely swollen shut. Blood was everywhere.
“You’re dead, you sick bastard, and your entire empire will be a fleeting memory.
There will be no Jacquot dynasty. And I want you to recall every day you suffer in hell that my club and I were responsible for it,” I hissed, then I lifted my foot as high as it would go and brought my booted foot down on the middle of his face.
His skull gave out, and his head was reduced to mush.
“No!” Hugo screamed as he tried to hold his son.
I was over this shit. I held out my hand. Cobra placed what I needed in it. I lifted my hand and aimed. As Hugo stared up at me in agony with tears streaming down his face, I pulled the trigger, ending his life, too.
The quiet afterward was like a tomb. I jerked my foot free of Jean-Baptiste’s head.
It was covered in blood and brain tissue.
Before heading home to my woman, I’d have to thoroughly bathe and change into clean clothes.
I was tired, and I needed her in my arms. I wanted to sleep for a month, but there was one last thing to do.
“Blood, you know what to do. How many do you want left to help you?” I asked wearily.
My cleaner scanned the area and then gave me an answer. “I have eight bodies plus the others who were killed outside and nearby. I have some backup, so if I can have eight to ten, just to help get it done as fast as we can, that would be great, Pres.”
“You can have a dozen. Volunteers, step forward,” I ordered before Scythe ordered his chapter to do the same.
It took no drafting to have a dozen men ready to help him. After that, I went to Rémi. He’d been quiet and observing this entire time. He hadn’t tried to run or stop anything. His gaze met mine. I made sure he saw I told the truth as I addressed him.
“This is what an enemy gets. If you’d betrayed us on the phone or here tonight, you’d be next to them.
You didn’t, and everything you gave us seems to have checked out.
Don’t be our enemy or ever try to turn on us.
If you do, this will be you. I’m giving you a chance that I’ve never given anyone.
Don’t make me regret it. Am I understood? ”
“Crystal clear, Tyrant. Am I free to go?”
“You are. I’ve got work to do back at the compound. I’ll have your family released into your care. I’d suggest waiting a day or two while we make sure we didn’t overlook anyone,” I said.
“Thank you. I think that’s an excellent idea. If it’s all the same to you, I’d like to tag along for that unfinished business back at your compound. I’d like to talk to you about something after it’s all handled.”
I thought for a moment or two, then nodded. “You can come with us. However, first, I’ve got to get into cleaner clothing. You said there’s a shower around here?”
“Right this way,” Rémi said and pointed to the left.
As I walked off, I asked one of my guys to get the bag I had brought from the cage I rode in. It was nearly two a.m., and I wasn’t done for the night.