Chapter Two #4
Malice pulls out his knife, flicking it out.
There goes the clean common room. Jason actually surprises me by standing up and throwing a punch toward Malice.
I know he’s got it, especially with a clubhouse full of members here.
But my eyes are on the other asshole who takes that as his cue to run.
Chaos and I are on him before he can go too far.
I drop my elbow into his nose, a loud crunch of shattering bone and cartilage piercing my ears.
Blood pours from his nose and mouth as Chaos and I drag him back into the center of the room.
We zip-tie both of them to chairs this time, and then step back, letting Malice get to work.
He slices a clean cut into Jason’s head over the tattoo, removing it quickly.
Blood gushes instantly, and Malice jumps back in surprise, tossing the piece of flesh at my boots with a wet slap against the floor, blood splattering against the leather.
Because of course. Like I said, he tortures with flourish.
“Damn!” Malice yells, looking back at Saige with excitement dancing in his eyes.
“Did you know head wounds bleed that much? Like a river!” For fuck’s sake, he’s unhinged.
Chaos doesn’t look impressed, his arms crossed over his chest, a subtle shake to his head.
I’m sure he’s processing how the fuck this happened, just like I am.
We do a deep dive on every man who wants in, but there’s not always a line to chase, like in Malice’s case.
The screams are loud enough to shake the windows.
It looks like it hurts like a bitch. Malice moves to the other traitor, and instead of slicing it right off like he did with Jason, he takes his time, clearly trying out a new technique.
While he saws at the guy’s scalp, I watch every single one of the other prospects’ reactions.
Some look squeamish, others look scared shitless, but most of them look comfortable, just like the patched men behind me.
A second wet slap of bloody scalp meeting the hard floor is my only sign that he’s finished. Malice’s hand and arm are dripping with blood, and I take a large step away from him as he retreats back next to me.
Chaos steps forward, ready to interrogate some more. Maybe now they’ll talk. It always takes some—sometimes messy—persuasion.
“You ready to tell us what the fuck those tats mean and who the fuck you all are?”
“Kingsnakes MC,” the second ugly fucker mutters as blood trickles down his face and into his eyes.
“And what the fuck are you doing in my club?”
“Orders.”
“To infiltrate the Hell’s Heathens? Why was one of our men targeted?”
“Fuck you. That’s all you’re getting from him,” the first one yells. Ooo, I wince, my face contorting. Bad decision, dude.
“Ohhh, Jason, you are not a smart man. That’s okay.
Your buddy here can watch while I have my play time,” Malice taunts as he steps forward again.
The slices and stabs start out methodical, but then something changes, and he loses all control and finesse.
Sin and I shake our heads at each other, and I can’t stop looking down at the lack of drain in the center of the room.
The guy next to Jason vomits, as well as two other prospects, but it’s better they see this shit now so we can weed them out. While our club has legitimate businesses, and we do what’s right ninety-five percent of the time, this carnage is needed to keep things in check. We don’t shy away from it.
Malice doesn’t stop until Jason’s entrails are hanging out of his stomach and stretching down to the floor, his face a hollow sphere. I think the only part of him he left intact is his brain.
Sin steps up to the other guy who’s about to pass out.
“You will die tonight, no matter what. But how you leave this plane is going to depend on what you know and if you’re willing to divulge that information,” Sin tells him calmly.
Malice throws his hands up in the air like he’s irritated, and I have to hide my smile again. Crazy fucker.
“Rolo’s brother is the new president of the Kingsnakes. He wanted him dead. Our job was to get in and get out.”
Fucking shit, this just got a whole helluva lot worse.
“So why the fuck did you stick around?”
“’Cause you fucking feed us.” That piques my interest.
“You don’t get food where you came from? You thought you’d just come in here, kill our brother, and you could just stay so you didn’t have to go hungry? Fuck you. Where are they?”
“Clubhouse is a few hours west, on the coast, but I don’t remember where. I was a new recruit, not from around here.”
“Sure you don’t. That all?”
He nods, and then Chaos turns, his eyes meeting Saige’s, giving her a subtle nod.
I know this is going to piss Malice right off.
Ever since Chaos brought Saige and her stabby self into the clubhouse, she and Mal have hit it off.
But they seem to be in a bit of a friendly competition when it comes to kills.
Saige walks up to him and runs her knife across his neck from ear to ear with a perfectly clean slice. Blood gushes from the wound, opening it up further and spilling down his chest. He gurgles and shakes, his eyes wide and scared.
“Always the same,” Saige mutters, unimpressed, rolling her eyes. “Evil men are the weakest.”
“Shave all their heads. Every single one of them is going to be bald by nightfall. I don’t care if you have to tie them down; check them all.
We don’t sleep until we know everyone under this roof isn’t affiliated with the fucking Kingsnakes,” Chaos shouts as he grabs Saige around the waist and hauls her out of the room.
Alright. Let’s get this shit over with. Time to weed out the snakes and then get the prospects to clean up the fucking mess.