“Nay,” Molar began. Then the rest followed with the same answer. Shit.
“Well, you gotta try harder than that,” Furore told Ty, “because you ain’t getting your cut back until they do.”
“What the fuck? What do you want me to do?” The anger in Tirone’s voice worried me sick. This could turn into another fight so quickly, and there was no remedy from there, only mayhem.
Marshall, who carried a little sac, stepped in front of Ty and poured something grainy. “Kneel and apologize again.”
“What the hell is this?”
“Rice.”
My eyes widened. “No.”
Heads tilted toward me. Furore’s glare tore at me.
Was he punishing Ty or was he testing me and my loyalty? Or both? “This is child abuse,” I said.
“This is club business, and he’s not a fuckingchild,” Furore disagreed. “He’s an adult and a member of this club, who committed a crime by our laws, and he has to pay the price.” His gaze switched back to Ty. “Kneel.”
Ty didn’t do it fast enough, so Molar and Fort forced him down, his knees on the uncooked rice. A chill of pain jolted through my body as if I was the one being tortured.
“Now, apologize,” Furore instructed.
“I’m sorry.”
“Can’t hear ya!”
“I said I’m fucking sorry!”
“Do you accept his apology?”
I gulped, my heart squeezing.Please accept and get it over with.
“Nay,” Molar blurted out.
“Jesus,” I muttered.
“All right, y’all. Pour the juice,” Furore barked another order.
“Juice? What juice?” I looked around for someone to answer me. Doc was leaning against the patio railing. Our eyes met, but he just sighed.
The answer came in the most nauseating way. Five men undid their zippers and started peeing on Ty, one by one.
“Jesus Christ. I can’t...” I spun, touching my sweating forehead with shaky fingers, Ty’s howls ripping through me. “I can’t see this. You’re sick people.”
“One hour and then move him to the Boiler. Two days, no food, no shower, one glass of water,” Laius said, and I twisted back. What the fuck?
He reached me before I opened my mouth and dragged me inside the house and up to our room. “The next time you question my authority or object to my club decisions in front of my men—”
“You’ll what? Make me kneel on rice or starve me for two days?”
“This is my club! I run this place, and there’s no room for weakness or disrespect. The Night Skulls ain’t no fucking picnic. Every action has consequences, and they end up in sweat, tears and fucking blood.”
“You promised me you weren’t going to hurt him,” I burst out.
“And you promised you’d be all mine,” he growled. “I saw the way you looked at him. You couldn’t stand his pain.”
“He’s a human being that I’ll always care about. What do you expect me to feel when you’re torturing him? That was torture!”
