Chapter 25 #2
I signal to the others behind me, pointing two fingers toward the source of the laughter.
Hazard nods, splitting off with Hornet to flank right while Rimfire and Cannon follow my lead down the left corridor.
The house is typical college shit—posters of half-naked women, beer pong tables, and the lingering stench of weed and poor decisions.
Samuel’s voice cuts through the others, that distinctive nasal tone making my trigger finger itch. “I’m telling you, she deserved it. Stuck-up bitch who thinks she’s too good for us.”
My vision tunnels. Every muscle in my body tenses as I approach the door from which their voices emanate. Through the crack, I can see them—four frat boys lounging, drinking, and laughing as if they haven’t committed a crime that deserves a slow, painful death.
“You think she’ll tell anyone it was us?” one of Samuel’s lackeys asks.
“She better not. I’ll kill her for sure if she does,” Samuel snaps.
“Besides, I’m not done with her. I’m going to get my hands on her again.
I just have to wait for the right time. You know I always get what I want, and I want her pussy.
She can give it up to all those biker assholes and still think she’s too good for me.
She’s gonna learn where her place belongs. ”
Something inside me snaps. Before Cannon can give the signal, I’m through the door, my weapon aimed at Samuel’s smug face. The room falls silent.
“Samuel. Samuel. Samuel,” I tsk out his name, my voice eerily calm despite the storm raging inside me. “You like to talk a big game about my wife. Thinking she’s something that belongs to you when she’s already mine.”
Samuel’s face drains of color. The beer bottle in his hand slips and shatters on the floor. The other three fraternity brothers freeze like deer in headlights.
“W-what are you doing here?” Samuel stammers, his bravado evaporating like morning dew.
I step closer, keeping my weapon trained on his face. “You hurt my wife. Tried to kill her. You think I wouldn’t come after you? Oh, and you just threatened her again.”
Hazard and Hornet move in behind me, securing the exits. The room suddenly feels smaller, the air thick with the threat of violence.
“I think we should have a little chat about what you did to my woman,” I say, my voice dropping to a deadly whisper. The rest of my brothers fan out, guns trained on Samuel’s friends, who look like they’re about to piss themselves.
Samuel’s eyes flicker around the room, desperately searching for an impossible escape. “This is a mistake. Do you realize who I am? You can’t just come in here and kill me.”
I laugh, the sound hollow and cold. “We know exactly who you are. It’s no mistake. You attacked my woman. Then you had the audacity to threaten her again just now.”
“It’s just talk, man,” he stammers, backing away until he hits the wall. “I would never—”
“Shut up,” I snap, pressing my gun’s barrel against his forehead. “You don’t get to lie your way out of this. Not after what you did to her.”
Samuel seems to grow a pair as he smirks. “Kill me, and you’ll see the inside of a prison. Where’s that leave your little wife?”
“You’re as stupid as you look,” Cannon remarks, stepping forward with arms crossed.
“So, she’s your wife,” Samuel says, looking to Cannon. “And fuckin’ the rest of you. You’ll go to prison for a whore?”
Cannon moves, his hand gripping the man’s throat. “You’re speaking about my cousin, motherfucker. A woman who has my club’s protection and is married to a brother of mine. You’ll die painfully, in her ol’ man’s hands.” Releasing him, my Prez looks at me. “Finish this.”
Nodding, I shove my gun into its holster and step closer to Samuel, gripping his throat and throwing him across the room. His body hits the wall with a satisfying crack.
Dear ol’ Samuel crumples into a ball, gasping for air.
“How does it feel to fight to breathe?” I demand, stalking over to him.
He struggles to respond as his face turns an ugly shade of purple. I loosen my grip just enough for him to choke out words.
“Please . . . I’m sorry. . . I’ll leave her alone,” he gasps, his hands clawing at my wrist.
“Sorry?” I laugh, the sound echoing in the suddenly quiet room. “You think sorry fixes what you did to her? The bruises? The fear?” I tighten my grip again, watching his eyes bulge. “Sorry doesn’t cut it, but you know what will? Your fuckin’ life.”
Before he can react, I twist his neck, hearing the beautiful snap, and drop him to the floor. Turning to the room, I look at the other three men. “You all played a part in my woman’s misery, and you’ll pay, but not at my hands.”
“We just . . .” The one who speaks up is the first to be shot by Hazard’s gun.
Cannon draws his and shoots another. Hornet takes the third out.
“You know, it would have been more exciting to take them to the cemetery and fuck them up even more before finishing them off,” Hazard remarks, shoving his gun into the holster.
“Let’s get them loaded into the van,” Cannon remarks. “We’ve got a fire to start. Trench, you get to work with Centerfire to light this place up. You know the drill.”
“You got it, Prez,” Trench says, rubbing his hands gleefully. “Come on, Center, it’s time to play.”
“I hate it when you get that look on your face,” Centerfire grunts, shaking his head. “You love fire way too much.”
“No, I just have respect for the element of it and for how to use it.” Trench smirks and slaps Centerfire on the back. “One day you’ll understand.”
Taking a breath, I look back at Samuel’s body, taking in the way his head is unnaturally twisted.
During my time as a SEAL, nothing has ever felt as satisfying as taking his life.
No matter how many terrorists I’ve done the same maneuver to, I’ve always felt a twinge of guilt, but this time I live with it because it’s my woman he hurt and no one fucks with what’s mine.
“Come on, brother,” Hazard says, slapping my shoulder. “Let’s get this done and get you back to that woman of yours.”
“Yeah.” I nod. More than glad to be going back to my woman, a woman who owns my very soul, no matter how many marks it bears.