CHAPTER 12
*~* Breaker *~*
Watching the Cobras sweat, and the fear that is obvious with each of them, I couldn’t give a shit.
Whack gives a nod to Drifter and watches as he puts a bag over the head of the first Cobra in line.
When there is only one without a bag, Saddle steps forward and slaps him hard across the face, making him squeal.
The others in the line jerk, as though struck themselves.
Sound is now their worst enemy. Not being able to see what is causing the noise is going to wreak havoc in their imaginations.
Without asking a single question, Drifter and Saddle continue slapping their victim and mix in some solid punches in all the easy to bruise places on the human body.
Griller has a drawing in his hand, and after every fifth punch or slap he steps forward, checks his drawing and then makes a cut on the Cobra’s body with a scalpel.
When I asked him about it, he said that he’d got a drawing of the human body and sat down with Jamie.
He got her to point out all the non-lethal places he could cut someone to get the most dramatic blood loss without actually endangering his subject.
I have to say the effect is dramatic, to say the least. We’ve done the least amount of damage I have ever seen to a prisoner that has been brought to the shed, but with the blood loss and the bruising, he looks like he’s been tortured for a week!
Taking the blindfold off prisoner number two certainly has the desired effect.
As soon as he stops blinking his gaze settles on the unconscious number one.
Looking at Griller, who has donned rubber gloves and a blood-soaked apron, his face drains of all its color, his eyes roll to the back of his head, and he passes out.
A bucket of cold water thrown over him soon has him back with us. No sooner does he open his eyes when a trickle of piss runs from his pants leg. It soon becomes a river, and he just cries like a baby. He gets the same treatment as the first guy but fewer slaps and more punches.
The next one awaiting his bag removed is my friend Fink.
I’ll be dealing with this one, and he won’t be getting the softly-softly treatment either.
As soon as his bag is removed and before his eyes finish blinking, I’ve hit him three times.
His nose is broken, his lips smashed, and he’s gasping for air.
“Remember me, asshole?” I hold his chin and get right in his face. “You’ve been riding my hog, and now it’s time to pay the rental on it.” Taking two of my best shots to his kidneys, he retches.
“The last time we almost met in that cornfield, Fink, you said you were going to kill me. Not quite what you were expecting, eh? When my Pres has finished with you, I get your leftovers to do with as I please. If you’ve even scratched my hog, you’re going to take a long time to die.
” Giving him a last punch to his stomach, I grin as all the air rushes out of him.
After only a few minutes of punches and cuts, Fink is out cold. What a club full of pussies.
Prisoner number four is already blubbering like a baby, so we skip onto the last in the line. He’s the unlucky one. He gets the real deal with the interrogation, and although he starts out well, it soon becomes clear that he knows fuck all of any use to us.
Turning our attention back to number four, he looks at us all and begs for us not to hurt him. What sort of man does this? As soon as Whack begins to question him, he blurted stuff out faster than an AI on a search engine.
They are not ex-military, just ex-cons and thugs.
They don’t do any kind of weapons training or hand-to-hand.
They just drink, whore and thieve. They take women as they want them, and when they’re done with them, they sell them on, or kill them.
He thinks there are around forty to fifty altogether, but that’s only based on what their president says when he’s bragging.
He’s never seen more than twenty at any one time.
The entire club is too lazy to have their own businesses, so they steal and rob to get what they want or need.
The president had a woman who was shaping up to be their First Lady, but she got greedy and ran off with the club cash.
She tried to access the club's bank account, but the bank sensed something amiss and stopped the transaction. Their Pres is looking for her, and God help her when he finds her. Stealing from the club guaranteed that she’d die when they caught her, but making a fool of the Pres guaranteed that it would be long and painful.
Handing her over might stop hostilities, but probably not for long.
They are like locusts, and they’ve about picked their town clean, so will need to move on sooner rather than later.
Whack orders the deaths of three of the prisoners, and it’s done quickly and efficiently.
I get to play with Fink, and the talker gets to live, just not anywhere near here.
He’s put on his bike, escorted out of town and sent on his way.
He won’t be welcomed back at the Cobras after having spilled his guts to us, so he’ll be heading as far away from these parts as quickly as he can.
We take an ear from one, a tongue from another, a toe, and a nose, four individuals contributing to our show of strength.
All packaged up for the Cobras’ President.
Fink gets to suffer for an hour, but I get bored with his whining and when his begging becomes insufferable, I take the scalpel that Griller left me and slit his throat.
He’ll be getting dumped in the Cobras' hometown with enough planted evidence for the local sheriff to pay them some serious attention. If they haven’t already bought him out, of course.
Now I can check on my hog and give her a good clean!
Walking into the shop Andy and Thorn are saying will make a great barber shop, I think they are right. It’s on Main Street, so it will get plenty of feet passing the place. It has parking in front, and it has an apartment above.
I, along with Cannon, Bank and Saddle, walk around the shop. It’s a large space, with room for four seats. A reception counter where people can book appointments, and we can place a register there, too. I have to admit I lose interest in the shop area and wander up the stairs to the apartment.
Two bedrooms, a tiny kitchen area, with a decent open-plan living room.
Three large windows that let in a lot of light make the place feel larger than it is.
It’s a better apartment than the one Andy was in previously.
It needs modernizing some and sure needs a clean as this place has been standing empty for probably two years.
Bank walks into the apartment and gives me a nod. “The place will work. It’s something that we can modernize easily, and it’ll pay for itself in I guess four years, maybe three if they pull in a lot of customers.”
Saddle and Cannon walk into the apartment, along with Andy who is looking nervous. “I’ll vote aye on this place, Andy. I think it’s got a hell of a lot of potential. But you and Thorn will have to work hard.”
“I agree,” Cannon states blandly. “I reckon you can make this place pay for itself easily. We need a good barber in town, and from what I’ve heard a decent hairdresser for women. Did you see Julia’s haircut?”
We all chuckled because Julia’s hair looked like it had been butchered, and it was Anya who tidied it up for her. But I’m not sure it was worth all the tears and drama one haircut created.
“Okay, all four are good to vote aye on the place then?” Bank asks, and we all give him a nod that we are good with it.
“Come on, let’s get back. You get everything you need listed and ready Andy. Then, when we have had church and you get the go-ahead, you’ll have everything ready,” Saddle states, then turns and leaves the apartment, with us all right behind him.
Back at the clubhouse I park my hog, and I’m more than thankful that she’s good. I’m not sure I’ll keep her now that someone else has been riding her though. It just doesn’t feel right, or the same as it did when I got her. I will see how I feel in a week or two.
Walking into the kitchen, the smell hits you.
It’s that smell that you remember when you were a kid and you come home from school and Mamma has the meal ready to serve.
Divine, and I’ve smelled this often since Molly has been working the kitchen.
I’m going to miss her cooking when she leaves, and I’m sure the other brothers will, too.
Watching Molly stirring something over the stove, I reckon I’m going to invite myself to her place when she gets moved into it.
No way am I missing her cooking every night.
I’ll start leaving her meat when she’s working.
That way I’ll be paying her for the meals and helping her out at the same time.
She’s lost everything with Carrie-Anne messing up her life.
Bri and Marcia walk into the kitchen, and I place my hand over my mouth. They are both walking as if they have been horseback riding for far too long. Fucking hell, Saddle and Bank have really punished them this time.
“What can we do to help the brothers get their meal on time?” Bri says to Molly. This isn’t lost on me as they know they can’t help Molly, so saying it’s for the brothers is their loophole to help.
“The brothers like to eat off clean tables,” Molly smirks as she replies. They’ve obviously done this before, I think to myself.
Mella walks into the kitchen, and nobody at this point has realized I’m here, leaning on the back door frame. I keep quiet and watch what is about to happen, because the look on Mella’s face tells me she’s going to cause some drama.
Bri notices Mella first and turns, placing her hands on her hips. “Don’t start any trouble today, Mella. I’m not in the right frame of mind for your bullshit.”
“I didn’t say anything. Yet.” Which, of course, she says with attitude, which has Bri’s back up. I move slightly back from the doorframe and turn, placing my hand on Cannon’s chest to stop him from walking in. Before he can say anything I nod for him to watch what’s going down.
“Well, you best not. We are sick of all you bunnies, whores, skanks, or whatever you want to call yourselves coming around us causing trouble. I’m fed up with even looking at you if I’m being honest.” Bri looks like she wants to cry, and that’s not like her at all.
I flick my eyes to Cannon who is frowning too.
“We have as much right to be here as you do. In fact, we are more useful than you. At least we service the men. What do you do apart from strut around here?” Mella snidely remarks.
Marcia steps forward. “Yeah, you service the men alright. You gave two nomads a case of chlamydia the last time they visited. I’m sure that was the gift they really wanted to receive.”
“I didn’t give them the STI. I’ve been clean every month when I’ve been checked,” Mella stands a little taller as though she’s trying to show she’s proud of the fact.
“I don’t care who was infected, and I’m going to kill any of you that get near Bank,” Marcia leans forward toward Mella and snaps her teeth at her. In turn, Mella raises her hand to slap Marcia.
Quick as a flash, Molly has Mella’s wrist in her hand, stopping her.
“You try to hit my friend again and I’ll break your arm, then break the other one.
That’s a promise and not a threat. Now, get out of the kitchen where you have no reason to be in the first place.
You have ten seconds before I do what I promised.
One…two…” Mella scampers out of the kitchen, and the three look at each other, shake their heads and then continue what they were doing.