Chapter 7 #3
“A ghost came to visit me,” he says. His dark hair is covered in blood, and his skull is threatening to cave in. I have no idea how he’s alive, but something tells me it’s purely due to determination and spite.
Maybe he knew we’d be coming.
“Does this ghost have a message?” Devon asks, pulling a knife from his belt. He’s not wrong, we have places to be, and this ghost has settled the score we had with Lyker.
“That vengeance finds its place, despite how deep you hide the evidence,” Lyker says. “Devon, I swear I found out about the ambush when it was too late to stop it. Nothing I could have done would have changed things, and it wouldn’t have saved your brother either.”
“Hmm. So we are talkative,” Devon muses.
Lyker’s MC tattoo has been not only cut off his body, but also burned. The skin is curled and still visible next to my foot, and it’s pretty disgusting. Devon sinks his knife into Lyker’s bare chest, and tilts his head as he thinks.
“Why didn’t you reach out to me or Wilder even after?” he asks. “Was your club really that far up shit’s creek?”
“Yes,” Lyker says simply. “Chester was in the wrong, but my silence killed the rest of my club. The orphans and widows left behind are my fault. I’m the president.”
“Were,” I grunt. “You don’t even deserve to be called a man.”
“Should we rectify that?” Devon asks with a cruel grin, yanking his knife back out of Lyker’s body.
This is Lore’s smile, and it fucking guts me as I’m hit with the full force of it. Dammit. It’s like a kick in the stomach. I know Marie thinks they’re very different people, but Lore and Devon grew up together, despite the almost eight year age difference between them.
“What do you have in mind?” I ask, hoping my voice sounds normal, instead of thick with emotion.
“Ransom?” Devon asks, watching dispassionately as the alpha unbuttons Lyker’s pants and yanks them down. There’s only so far they can go because there are nails driven through the tops of Lyker's feet.
If the soon to be dead alpha is trying to find religion this late in life, this might do it.
Lyker’s limp dick isn’t very impressive as it flops out, and Devon makes a face before yanking a pair of black leather gloves from his back pocket.
“I hope you’re laughing your ass off about this, big brother,” he mutters under his breath.
“Let me go intact! Devon…No…Stop!”
Whatever else Lyker may want to say is muffled as Martyr begins to cut Lyker’s tongue out. Instead, gurgled screams are all he can manage as Devon cuts the alpha’s cock and knot off.
“You didn’t have anything else of substance to say anyway, did you?” I say conversationally as I stand. “I think he needs to meet his maker with some special treatment, don’t you, Devon?”
He glances at me from where he’s currently got a palmful of severed knot and cock with a raised brow.
“Will whatever this is mean that I won’t be holding wrinkly cock any more?” he snorts.
“Not unless you’ve found a new kink,” I say, shrugging.
Lyker is in his fifties, and does indeed have deep wrinkles in his now castrated private parts.
“Wilder,” Devon groans.
“Make him choke on it,” I say, putting Devon out of his misery. “Sew his lips up and then light the fucker on fire. Let him see how much his silence actually hurt people.”
Silence meets my words before murmurs of agreement follow.
“I’ll be back with my sewing kit,” Ransom says, maneuvering his way out of the room.
It’s normal for us to keep supplies like that on our bikes, so no one bats an eye when he returns with it. I’m standing now, watching as Martyr steps on Lyker’s hand to push the nail into it so he doesn’t pass out. That would be too kind for what we’re planning to do.
My lack of shoes makes my doing it much less effective. Shitkickers are the best way to inflict pain and punishment.
Devon moves around to pinch Lyker’s nostrils shut so he’ll open his mouth, and he shoves the wrinkled tissue into Lyker’s mouth.
I make myself useful by shoving his mouth closed, while Ransom moves in to sew Lyker’s lips shut.
I have to give it to the newest member of my pack: he’s a sadistic bastard.
Ransom’s stitches are even and perfect, and he moves with slow, measured movements to draw out the pain. I have the feeling he’d come in clutch to sew up wounds.
“You took my goddamned medic,” Devon grumbles under his breath as I chuckle. Yep, well, that definitely tracks.
“I was just thinking about how pretty his stitches are,” I tease him. “You said you were over it. Don’t be such a baby about it, Devon.”
Now that we’re torturing Lyker together as we joke around, our men aren’t as twitchy or looking to shoot first while we taunt each other. It’s amazing what a little group revenge can do as an ice breaker.
“Want me to look for some gasoline, Prez?” Burner asks me.
“Yes, please,” I reply, watching Lyker’s widening eyes as he realizes there’s no way out of this unless it’s ablaze in pain and no glory.
I smell rather than hear the stream of urine as it happens, and I carefully step back as I glance down to see Lyker pissing himself from the hole Devon made.
“At least that part works,” I grunt. “Have some dignity, old man. You know you deserve this. This so-called ghost left you behind as a reminder of your crimes. If I cared enough, I’d be upset about not getting those answers, but you’re a blight in this world. I think it’s time to rectify that.”
“We got the human bonfire,” Burner says, coming back with gasoline and excitement in his eyes. Nothing makes him happier than lighting shit on fire. “Why don’t you step out, Prez. You really need shoes for this.”
“I didn’t want to track the blood everywhere,” I say absently, leaning down until all Lyker can see is me. “When you head to hell, I want you to remember my face, old man. Silence is just as bad as being the entire fucking problem, and this is how we deal with those who betray us.”
Picking my way out of the club house, I grab my socks outside the doors and begin to put them on as Burner douses Lyker’s body with the accelerant. There’s a lot of fucking alcohol in this building, and that gives me an idea.
“Empty some of the liquor to help it all burn,” I suggest. “We want the evidence of whoever left their mark here to be destroyed. This was an execution. The enemy of my enemy is my friend and all that shit, even if we don’t know who that is.
All I care about at the moment is that they left Lyker alive for us. ”
Devon and my men move in tandem, upending liquor over dead bodies and furniture, never thinking to take a sip for themselves. We have booze at home, and we’re working now. That’s one thing I’m glad to see: the men who are here are loyal as fuck.
The ones who are the problem children need to fucking go.
Devon walks over to me as a match is dropped over Lyker’s body, and the burning alpha’s screams punctuate his steps.
The rest of our men walk out of the building as well, while Burner lives his best firebug life tossing burning matches around the room.
His hoots and smiles making me chuckle under my breath as I finish putting my boots on, and as I walk down the steps, I realize someone even washed my fucking shoes.
My money is on Ransom having done it, but I have no idea when he had the time.
“Are you still feeling murderous?” Devon finally asks as we watch the building burn from the yard.
“Mmhmm,” I reply, waiting to see where he’s going with this.
“While I can’t kill Toad, I’m not against kicking out the other six men that make my life fucking miserable,” he says. “My money is on Toad shacking up with the RMs for a while to heal his leg wound and pride. You reminded me today that sometimes, bloodshed sends a message even if no one sees it.”
“Don’t we know people with a pig farm?” I tease him. “It’s fucking Illinois in the middle of nowhere, Devon.”
“Yeah, yeah. I actually do know someone,” he says. “Toad’s digging in deep with the Reaping Marauders, and the president’s daughter is a pawn.”
“We can’t save everyone,” I say, sounding uncaring. I’m not completely a dick, but I am more concerned with taking care of my own right now.
No one can ever call me altruistic.
“Let’s make sure the fire doesn’t show any signs of going out, and then we’ll head back to take out the trash,” I suggest.
“Hey, a little respect for the firebug, please,” Burner yells from behind me.
Turning, I see that he’s scaled the flag pole so he can watch the fire from the best perch like a proud papa. My smile dies slowly as I remember Marie crying because she hoped she was pregnant.
“It’s a rollercoaster we can’t get off,” Devon says, seeing how serious I just got. “I wish I could bring my brother back from the dead just so I can beat the fuck out of him. I know that sounds sadistic, but I’m so fucking mad at him.”
“He did the best he could with the information he had,” I say. “Devon, he knew he wasn’t going to make it. He wanted to be under the same roof as Marie when he died. I wasn’t going to fight a dying man. He was losing too much blood.”
“I didn’t say how I feel makes any sense,” Devon breathes. “Since I can’t beat the fuck out of Lore, I’ll do the next best thing and protect my club until I can kill Toad and the club he’s decided to fuck his way into.”
“What’s his angle?” I ask. “Does he want to rise through their ranks? That typically takes time.”
“He wants to take over what’s mine with their help,” he sighs. “I can’t prove it, but that’s what I think his plans are. He’s tired of playing second fiddle to me.”
“Then he’s not meant for the job,” I grunt. “Find yourself a second you trust and then promote him once Toad is dead.”
“Working on it,” Devon says. We’ve been talking quietly so as not to garner any attention, but now he raises his voice. “That’s enough, boys. Burner, put your chubby away. It’s time to go. Wilder and Ransom have an omega to get back to!”
Fuck yeah we do.