Chapter Twenty-SevenRoman
Despite being an enforcer, patience had never been my forte. It was a skill I was forced to hone to survive and serve my club, not one I naturally possessed. There was an art to being a good fucking killer, and perfecting it took time.
Yet, it was an art that required goddamn hands, and those had been stolen from me.
Being dead would’ve been better, an opinion that was reinforced when I discovered Ainsley’s betrayal.
And yet, even with my life out of fucking whack—in part because of my little sister—I couldn’t bring myself to hate her. I was so pissed and hurt, I didn’t know whether to shit or go blind. But she was still my only relative, my baby sister who I’d spent a decade protecting and loving. Without her in my life, the Earth itself seemed to be tilted off its axis.
The road to recovery hadn’t been easy. I still wasn’t whole, but now, I was back to having hands. Medical technology has made major advancements, enough so that I didn’t need to walk around looking like a damn pirate with hooks for hands. Thanks to Bash, I’d acquired an array of prosthetics. Functional hands, blades of all kinds—and yes, a hook. I still hadn’t gotten the hang of my robotic hands, but my arsenal of attachable weapons meant I wasn’t entirely helpless.
It was two weeks away from Thanksgiving and, after nearly two and a half months, I was finally near my hometown. Last night, Bash’s two sons, Easton and Tio, stopped to rest in Topeka. If it’d been up to me, I would’ve powered through, but I wasn’t calling the shots. I was reliant on them for everything, and while Easton wasn’t so bad, Tio made my ass itch. He was an asshole, and how he pulled someone like London, I hadn’t a clue.
She was an angel, while he was one of Satan’s cruelest demons.
As much as I disdained the perilous situation she was in, her fucked-up relationship wasn’t my priority at the moment. Tio had spent the day sleeping off a hangover and a night of loud sex. I was in an entirely separate room, and it kept me up. I didn’t want to think about how Easton, who shared a room with his brother, fared.
Again, something else that didn’t matter to me. What did matter was the fact that Tio had given us a fifteen-minute notice of when we’d be riding out. Though he was the younger brother, we played by his rules. I was too helpless to pitch a bitch about it.
My annoyance was overridden by my anticipation. In an hour, I’d be back in Kansas City. That meant I could start crossing names off my list.
At the top of it? Nova fucking Wren.
I gripped a burner phone in my faux hand, the simple task requiring an embarrassing amount of concentration. Navigating it was even harder, making my movements clumsy and shaky, but I managed. London—sweet, beautiful, trapped London—had stayed by my side for two weeks, helping me get used to my prosthetics and giving me basic exercises to do.
Unfortunately, we’d been forced to part ways, but her guidance had helped me feel somewhat normal again.
Me: Nova?
That simple text had taken over a minute for me to write, frustrating me to no end. I didn’t intend to carry out the conversation via messages; they were evidence, and a pain in the ass. I just needed confirmation that I had the right number, which came just minutes after my initial message.
Nova: who the fuck is this?
I scoffed at the reply. Her bitchiness was her one constant, and what damned her to a death sentence. But in this instance, it proved useful, allowing me to confirm I had the right girl.
Nova: Louisiana?Is this you?
My brows snapped together.
Nova and her Cajun side piece were the ones who set Ainsley up with Sinclair, causing this whole mess.
Nova was a dumb bitch, to still be communicating with a motherfucker from a rival club—something she’d condemned Ainsley to die for. Rage swept through me, knowing she’d snitched on my little sister for the same thing she’d done. It made me more eager to snuff out her life.
Fortunately for her, I wouldn’t share my revelation with her father, but it reinforced my need to end her miserable existence.
I took several deep breaths, needing to sound calm before I continued. When I was sure I wouldn’t cuss her ass out the moment I heard her voice, I pressed the call button, and three rings later, she picked up.
“Listen, asshole—”
“It’s me,” I said, interrupting whatever insult she was about to spew.
“Roman?” she asked, the venom leaving her tone. “What do you want?”
Her dead. To get to her, I’d let her think she’d finally ensnared me in her trap.
“I…I want to see you,” I answered, the words tasting like ash on my tongue. “The last several weeks have been hell, and fuck, babe, I need some comfort. I’ll be home in about two hours. You free?”
Her blood coating my flesh would comfort me like nothing else.
She was silent for several seconds, and I feared that her desire for me had fizzled out.
“I understand,” she replied, her voice breathier than before, her excitement almost tangible. “With all you’ve gone through, losing your hands, Ainsley betray—”
“Don’t,” I growled, clenching my jaw so hard, I almost cracked a tooth. “Don’t bring her up.”
My reaction could’ve blown my cover, but mercifully, she was too stupid to realize my anger was directed at her.
“I’m sorry,” she said quickly. “I know it must be rough to hear about her right now, knowing what she did. But yeah, I’m free. Come to my place, and I’ll make you feel so much better. A good blowjob will have you feeling brand new.”
“Not your place. We need to be discreet.”
“Right. I’ll text you the address to my favorite motel. It isn’t in club territory and there aren’t any cameras except the one at the front desk, so you don’t have to worry about Daddy ever finding out.”
The slut snuck around enough to have a favorite motel?
“All right, baby. I’ll see you tonight,” I said, then hung up the phone before she responded.
Five minutes later, the address came through. Already, I knew what knife I’d use on her. I was nearly buzzing with excitement, more than ready to do what I did best.
Kill.
Riding my bike was still too big of a risk, so for the time being, I took my cage. London found it easier to teach me to use my prosthetics for driving in such a short time. Besides, she didn’t ride.
Thankfully, traffic was low, so any accidents my less than stellar driving might’ve caused didn’t occur.
I glanced at the motel’s sign to confirm I had the right place, then checked the texts to see what room she was in.
Nova: Room 192 :)
I nodded, then pocketed my phone. The room was located under the staircase that led to the second floor, and the furthest first floor room from the office. It only had one neighboring room, which seemed to be vacant. I wanted to laugh at how easy she was making this for me; Nova’s survival instincts were nonexistent. Boom Boom should really be fucking ashamed of himself.
I knocked twice. The door swung open before I could pound on the flimsy wood a third time. Nova stood there, her blonde hair thrown into a ponytail, her lips a glossy pink, and her body exposed by black lacy lingerie.
“Roman,” she purred, her gaze sweeping over my figure as she stepped aside. “Come in.”
Wordlessly, I entered. The minute she closed and locked the door, she wasted no time grabbing my shirt and pulling me close. Standing on her tiptoes, she pressed her lips against mine. I barely responded to the kiss, much to her chagrin. Huffing, she pulled away.
“There’s no need to be shy—”
“Get undressed,” I interrupted, not intending to dwell here longer than necessary.
Before I killed her, I had a point to prove.
Her blue eyes widened, her sultry grin reappearing. She made a show of removing her garments. Seeing as she only wore two things, it didn’t take long for her to be standing butt-ass naked. She spun in a circle, ensuring I saw every inch of her nude body.
My eyebrows rose at Nova’s pierced nipples. I reached out and brushed my thumb against the metal, her obnoxiously fake moan destroying any arousal I might’ve begun to feel.
“Do you like what you see?” she breathed.
She sounded so desperate for my approval; it was pathetic. I wouldn’t give it to her.
“On the bed,” I ordered.
Again, Nova scrambled to obey, crawling onto the bed and going onto all fours. She spread her legs wide, falling onto her elbows for a deep arch. A hand snaked between her legs, her fingers gliding through her slit, sinking into her pussy. She whimpered, pumped a few times so I could hear how soaked she was, then withdrew from her core.
My cock didn’t even twitch at the show. My disdain for her made a hard dick impossible.
“I’m so wet for you,” she crooned, wiggling her slender hips. “Come feel for yourself.”
I unbuckled my belt and unzipped my pants. Approaching the bed, I pulled my jeans and boxers down just enough for my cock to be visible.
“Face me,” I said, my hard tone doing nothing to dissuade her.
My soft dick, however, did.
She looked up at me with furrowed brows, glancing between my eyes and my exposed manhood.
“Oh,” she muttered, realization finally sinking in. “Roman, I—”
“Save it,” I barked, moving to make myself decent again.
She grabbed my wrist, and I paused. Apparently, she took that as a signal to continue, but when her hand found my cock, I recoiled.
“What the fuck are you doing?”
“It’s okay if it’s hard for your dick to rise. You’re getting up there in age. If you need some time—”
A disbelieving laugh left me. “You think that’s the issue? No, sweetheart, I have no problem getting hard.”
“Clearly, you’re fucking lying, because you’re soft—”
Putting my cock away could wait. It wouldn’t be the first time I killed someone with my balls out.
Using my hands was still difficult, but I managed to wrap one around her throat and squeeze. Not as hard as I would’ve liked, but enough for her to get the goddamn message. She squeaked, falling silent as her eyes grew to the size of saucers.
“You know why my dick is soft, bitch? Because I feel nothing for you. You’re a backstabbing little cunt that’s a waste of oxygen,” I growled, tightening my grip around her throat out of sheer willpower.
She choked and sputtered, clawing at my hand as she tried to squirm away. I pressed my knee down on her stomach, keeping her still as I choked the life out of her.
“Ainsley trusted you, Nova, and you repaid her by blabbing your big fucking mouth and sentencing her to die.”
Just the thought turned my stomach. Ainsley would still be safe and sound had Nova shut the fuck up. My little sister would’ve told me of her pregnancy eventually, surely before she entered the second trimester. It would’ve been early enough for me to convince her to abort it, without every Bloody Scorpion in Kansas City wanting her dead.
Would I have been happy? Fuck, no. Would this rift between me and her exist? Also, no. Once my anger cleared, I would’ve apologized for whatever ugly words I’d spewed.
“And let’s not forget,” I continued, a cruel smirk spreading across my face as her movements grew weaker. “This was after you punched her for whatever goddamn reason. I don’t know why, because unlike you, Ainsley is loyal. She never told me what the hell went down to lead to you laying hands on her.”
After Ainsley’s revelation, I suspected it had something to do with Louisiana. I could use this time to confirm my theory and find out how long Nova had been pitching pussy to a Royal Bastard. But I wasn’t interested. I didn’t care since I wouldn’t do anything with the information. I certainly wouldn’t tell Boom Boom or any of those motherfuckers in my club. They’d tried to kill Ainsley. I’d never forgive them. I felt no fucking allegiance to those assholes any longer. If Bash wasn’t a psycho woman killer, I’d prefer to throw in my lot with him. As it stood, I didn’t belong anywhere any longer.
“Roman.” Nova sounded pitiful. She’d perfected her manipulation tactics. “I’m s-sorry.”
“No, you aren’t, so don’t fucking lie when you’re just moments from facing Judgment.” No matter what she said, she wouldn’t be leaving this motel room alive. “If Boom Boom was a motherfucker to you, you should’ve come to me for help. You didn’t have to betray Ainsley.”
“I had no choice!”
“Not at the club,” I agreed. “While we were on the road, you voluntarily called Boom Boom and revealed Ainsley’s pregnancy.”
An idea came to me, one that had me stepping away from the bed and releasing her. She scrambled back, rubbing her neck as she looked at me with wide, terrified eyes. Tears streamed down her face, but it did little to move me.
“I’m sorry,” she whimpered, her voice hoarse. “I’m sorry, I-I didn’t mean—”
“You never mean to do shit, Nova. Ever since you were a little girl, you’d get into all sorts of trouble and fuck over people and then be too much of a pussy to own what you did.”
A coward was one of the worst things in the world, right up there with snitches, badges, and abusers.
“I’m feeling generous tonight,” I continued, her sniffles grating on my nerves. “You have five seconds to leave the room. If you survive, keep your fucking mouth shut.”
With that, I began to count. She tripped over herself exiting the bed, scooping up a white robe I hadn’t noticed before. It was covering her body by the time I reached three, and she made it to the door by the time I reached five.
But, it wasn’t open, disqualifying her from living.
I tsked; she sobbed, fumbling with the bolt lock as I dug into my pocket. My blade was in my hand by the time she unlocked it, and lodged between her shoulders before she could open it.
A sharp cry left her throat, and she collapsed onto the carpet floor.
“Shit,” I murmured, walking to where she lay and pulling the blade from her back.
She barely twitched.
I’d meant to hit the back of her neck, but I still had yet to perfect throwing with my new hands. The fact that the knife had sunk into her flesh was a miracle, so I suppose I couldn’t complain too much.
She’d bleed out if I left her now, but I was never one to leave a job unfinished. So, I corrected my mistake and drove the knife into the side of her neck, ensuring Nova Wren was among the dead, so I could scratch her name off my list.