Jalisa Chapter 19 #3
“No, he’s the man who makes me scream all night long, to come harder than I ever dreamed, turns my body to mush, and makes me think of him twenty-four-seven. I’ll give him anything he wants with just a crook of his finger,” I bragged.
Some of Wrath’s brothers high-fived him, while others slapped his back. He grinned.
“That’s what you say about all the men you’ve fucked,” Killer snarled.
I smiled harder. “You’re right. I do.”
My agreement caused Killer to frown in confusion. I nodded to Wrath. I wasn’t ashamed of my lack of experience, not anymore. My old man showed me that he was more than willing to teach me everything I wanted to know. Wrath adored that I was all his.
“She means that I’m the only man she’s been with, period, stupid. I’m the man who can brag that he’s the only one to be inside of her. You had no idea what you were toying with. She’s no whore,” Wrath told him.
I did catch several surprised looks before they were swiftly wiped away from the Outlaws and Pagans. I might hear about it later from the guys, but only in a teasing way.
Killer gave me a disbelieving look, and then he smirked. “Then I’m glad I passed. How fucking boring is that? To have a bitch who doesn’t know how to get you off. You’ll be using those bunnies and whores soon. Nothing worse than amateur moves.”
He laughed. His laughter lasted only a few seconds before it ended with a hard jab to his gut. He bent over, heaving, and gasped for air. I was shocked to see who ended it. It was Corker.
“If you believe that, you’re dumber than I thought. A man would be honored to have a woman like her. Sweetheart, I don’t know what you have planned for this asshole, but if you want, I’ll knock his teeth out so we can hopefully shut him up. He makes my ears hurt,” Corker grumbled.
“Thank you, Corker, but there is a method to my madness. While I explain a few things, why don’t you guys untie him?
Arms and legs, please. And then I’d like you to put him on the ground on his back with his arms and legs spread.
Make sure he’s on the grass, too,” I requested.
Corker assisted Ding in untying Killer. As they did, I got in my war bag.
“For those who might not know it, my dad’s name is Psycho. He’s the enforcer for the Hell’s Fiends in Athens. Now, most men would bemoan not having a son, but not him. He taught me everything he’d teach a son, didn’t he, Dyl?”
“Yes, he did,” my cousin shouted.
“And this is my cousin Dylan, so he’d know.
Where was I? Oh yes, my dad. So, I was taught to fight, whether with my fists or in other ways.
Additionally, I was taught to use toys, equipment, assistive devices, or whatever you prefer to call them.
As I grew older, I discovered that each person can obtain a level of pain that shuts down the higher functioning of their brain.
It’s a different level for everyone. It’s too intense for them to be able to think or react other than to scream in agony and wish for death. I love finding that point.
“Killer, or I guess, since you’re no longer an Outlaw, I should call you by your actual name, Morgan.
Yes, that’s better. Morgan, we’re about to find out where your level is.
I’ll make you pray for death before I finally give it, and when I do, it’ll be even more painful, and you’ll puke, piss, and shit yourself.
I hope you’re ready to begin because I am. ” I grinned at him.
It was reminiscent of the grin my dad would get when he tortured someone. Yes, I’d seen it done more than a few times. He’d explained that it was a psychological thing to do to those he was extracting information from or causing pain.
Ding and Corker had Morgan pinned to the ground. He was fighting to get loose, but to no avail. Each guy pinned a wrist to the ground. Morgan’s legs were drumming on the grass.
“Keno, Matt, would you hold his legs for a few moments? And please remove his boots and socks, too. Don’t worry, you won’t have to hold him for long,” I told them cheerfully.
I removed my first tools as they pinned his legs to the ground and wrestled his boots and socks off.
There was a hiss of indrawn breaths. I held four sharp, pointed stakes.
They were old railroad spikes I’d sharpened until they had razor-sharp points.
I had those in one hand, and in the other was a heavy mallet.
I knelt next to one leg and put the mallet and spikes down so I could shove up his pant leg to expose his lower leg.
He has ugly feet, flashed through my head.
Rotating his leg to the side, I felt along until I located the spot I wanted. If he’d remained standing, I could’ve gone another way. Picking up a spike and the mallet, I placed the sharp tip against his leg and waited. He was trying to lift his head to see what I was doing.
“What’re you doing, you crazy bitch?” he shouted.
“This,” I sang before hitting the top of the spike with the mallet.
Killer cried out. He kept yelling louder with each strike.
I didn’t stop until it was through flesh, ligaments, and tendons to the opposite side of his leg.
I knew where to put it so the stake would go between the tibia and fibula bones.
I glanced up. The men were wordlessly watching.
“Wrath, would you help me hit it so it stays in the ground? That is the hardest part for me.”
Wrath didn’t say a word. He came and took my place.
Killer’s scream was cut off by his passing out when the stake was driven forcefully into the ground by Wrath’s stronger hit.
From there, I worked quickly but still painfully.
Killer was slapped until he regained consciousness, and then I did the other leg, followed by both wrists.
He was moaning in agony with tears and snot running down his face when I was finished.
Blood pooled under each limb, but not enough to worry that he would bleed out soon. I stood.
“Gentlemen, this is what an insect pinned to a board looks and feels like. Not happy. However, Morgan here is about to become much unhappier.”
I put my mallet aside. It would need to be washed before I repacked it.
Getting back into my bag, I came out with the next item.
I saw Sundown smile. It was a battery-operated power drill, so I never had to worry about whether there was a power source nearby.
I squeezed the trigger. As it whirled, I exclaimed, “Oh, goody, it’s charged. I can go hours with this.”
I pretended not to hear Sundown whisper to Wrath, “Are you sure you love her? Because I think I’m falling in love right now.”
“You’d better fall back out of it right away unless you want to be in worse shape than him,” Wrath told him.
“Hey, it doesn’t hurt to check,” Sundown said.
“Lunatic, what are you planning to do with that?” Wrath casually asked as if he were asking if I wanted to take a stroll after dinner.
“I’m not sure yet, honey. It depends on how he answers my next question.”
I crouched next to Killer’s head. He was staring up at me through swollen eyes. He’d cried so much that they were almost closed.
“I’ve been wanting to know. When did you decide that the woman who was pregnant with your child needed to die?
Was it after you realized I wasn’t falling into your hands and my dad wasn’t toeing the line the way you expected?
Or was it before that? And what about the woman you dated years ago, whom you wouldn’t leave alone, and then they found her dead? ”
“I-I don’t know who you’re talking about. I didn’t kill anyone. There was no woman pregnant with my kid,” he rasped out.
I looked at the Outlaws. They were muttering and wore thunderous expressions.
“He’s lying. There were two women. One went as far as to move away, only to be found dead months later in another state.
And the one with the baby, she was at the Outlaws’ clubhouse, and everyone openly spoke of the baby being his, and he didn’t deny it.
Suddenly, after I wouldn’t see him anymore, she was gone, and he was heard bragging about how there was no impediment to me becoming his old lady.
Her body was found, but no baby was inside her.
It had been cut from her womb. It was too early for it to survive,” I explained. Recalling it made me want to puke.
A roar broke from Lion. He hauled back his leg and let his steel-toed boot fly. It kicked Killer in the jaw. The crack, his scream, and the weird angle of his jaw proved without a doubt that it had been broken or dislocated. Lion bent over him and screamed at him.
“YOU KILLED A PREGNANT WOMAN! YOUR BABY! You’re fucking lower than a snake’s belly.” He spat in Killer’s face. The other Outlaws came forward to do the same and kicked him in the ribs. I felt they deserved to get some licks in.
“He’s right. There’s no word bad enough to describe how despicable you are. What did you do with the baby’s body? That child deserves to be buried with its mother. Tell me!” I snapped.
“Ib nan’t be. Sol bit,” he mumbled.
“What did you say?” I asked. He repeated it, and it took a few times for it to register what he was saying. I translated. “He can’t. He sold it. What do you mean you sold it? To who? It was a dead baby.”
“Back marmet. For pats,” he slurred.
“Black market for parts,” Shadow translated.
“Parts?” I asked.
“Yeah, there are sick bastards on there who’ll buy anything and sell it for illegal research or whatever. There’s a market for embryonic cells and shit. It’s not just living people who are trafficked,” Shadow explained.
“How would he know who to sell that fetus to?” Forge asked.
“It’s the Dark Web. You can find anything if you find your way onto it and know where to go. It’s an ugly place,” Shadow explained.
“Can you discover who bought the baby?” Wrath asked.
“Given enough time, maybe,” Shadow said.