Chapter 21
Chapter Twenty-One
Ipicked up a scalpel from the scarred metal table and raised a brow at my brother in question. Its edge, flecked with rust and grime, made my skin crawl.
He shrugged. “Found it in the dump.”
I set it down with a clink. “I hope you at least sanitized it.”
“We sanitize the tools with bleach after every use. Health and safety comes first for the Mavericks,” Reaper wisecracked.
I rolled my eyes. Eva was rubbing off on him.
I picked up a claw hammer, feeling its weight in my hand. A fuzzy sense of power surged through me as I stalked to stand before Luca. He sneered at me. I reared back and slammed the claw-end into his ribs with a sickening crack. He tried to move away, but the chains held him firmly in place.
“Troia,” Luca spat through gritted teeth.
“Come on,” I taunted. “You’ve got to come up with better insults than that.” I flipped the hammer and aimed for his knee. I hit just the right spot to make it kick out.
He buckled, his weight dropping into the chains. “You’re nothing but a biker whore.”
Bitter laughter bubbled out of me, but the pain made me stop. “That again? That’s the best you can come up with?” I flipped the hammer again and slammed the claw side into his stomach, reveling in his groans.
Power thrummed through my veins, the rage and adrenaline fueling my every move.
I glanced at Hatchet and strolled over to him, my legs unsteady.
“Hey, babe,” I purred, wrapping an arm around him.
He dipped low, claiming my mouth in a hungry kiss. “You’re sexy as hell with that hammer, Hellcat.”
“I know.” My smile widened. “Let’s play together.”
Lacing my fingers through his callused ones, I tugged him to the tool table. “Hatchet?”
“Yes, Hellcat?” he hummed into my hair.
I laughed. “No, I mean, do you want the hatchet?”
He eyed the array of options. “You should try it out,” he suggested.
A grin spread across my lips. “Really? You’d share with me?”
“I’d share anything with you.” A kiss grazed my neck. “I’ll do anything for you. I love you, Hellcat.”
“Fucking seriously?” Merrick grumbled.
I ducked my head. “Sorry. Forgot this was a double date. Or family bonding? Whatever it is, I’m happy we’re all together now.”
Hatchet shot Merrick an apologetic look. “Sorry, dude.”
I leaned against the table, gripping the edge as a wave of nausea shot through me. I ran my fingers over the tools, then turned to look around the open space. “I can’t believe you guys have never invited me here. I get it now. It’s … cathartic.”
“There’s a reason we keep old ladies away from this place,” Merrick growled.
“Good thing I’m not an old lady, then.”
I picked up a cow prod from the table and flipped it on. Joy lit through me as I heard it buzz. “This looks fun. You take this,” I said, handing it to Hatchet. “And I’ll try out the hatchet. And then we’ll swap.”
Coast moved to the table and picked up a small torch.
“Wait your turn, mister,” I admonished him.
He threw me a sinister grin. “Not my first rodeo. I’m ready to cauterize whatever you’re about to cut off. Wouldn’t want him to bleed out and end our fun early.”
I beamed. “Supportive as ever. You’re a good man.” I patted his shoulder. “Glad they patched you in. You have me to thank for that, by the way.”
I turned to Luca, and, for the first time, I saw the fear in his eyes.
It filled me with a surprising sense of glee.
Vengeance roared in my chest as I pulled his overpriced leather shoes from his feet and started with his toes.
The hatchet hacked more than sliced, parting the skin and bone with a wet crunch.
Luca howled and convulsed, especially when Hatchet zapped him mid-scream. When his eyes rolled back, and he slumped unconscious, we revived him with smelling salts, the burning scent of ammonia waking him as I continued to inflict my revenge.
Beneath the high, a woozy haze crept in. My vision blurred at the edges. I stepped back and held my throbbing ribs, the pain sapping my strength. I set the hatchet down on the table and leaned against it, wiping the sweat from my brow.
Hatchet looked to me in concern, but I waved a hand at Luca, as if stopping had been my choice.
“I want to cut his dick off, but I think it might be too tiny for me to get with this,” I said as I gestured to the blood-soaked hatchet.
“And I don’t want to use the scalpel. I don’t want to think of him every time I go to work. ”
Merrick pulled a Damascus blade from his belt. “May I have the honor?”
Grinning through my dizziness, I nodded. “Yes, then I can savor his screams while you do the work.”
Luca’s pathetic negotiations—offers for cash, intel, and property—fell on deaf ears. The Mavericks didn’t desire anything but retribution. Merrick moved to Luca slowly, like he wanted the moment to last. Like he wanted to make sure Luca had time to consider exactly what would happen next.
Hatchet approached me from behind and wrapped a possessive arm around my waist, grinding his hard cock behind me.
“I fucking love you,” he whispered in my ear. “You’re strong as hell, Hellcat. Sexy. Amazing. Fucking perfection. You were made for me.”
I turned to face him, wrapping my arms around his waist and gazing up into his eyes. “I love you.”
But before our lips met, the world tilted. My legs buckled, and black spots swarmed my vision. I heard Hatchet shouting, but his voice was distant—like I was underwater. I wobbled, then crumpled into his arms as the darkness swallowed me whole.