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She turned back to me with a quirked brow.
"Whatever treatment the girl needs… I’ll handle the bills."
Her eyes widened but slowly, she dipped her head. "Thank you, Aidan."
Dismissing her with a grunt, I graced MacMurray with my attention.
The fucker was tied with his hands around a stripper pole that took center stage in the room, head bowed, his semi-naked body loaded with bloody scratches.
The only consolation wasn’t much of a fucking consolation to me—he wore his pants.
Rapist fuckers were gonna get their pricks sliced off now that I was in charge but I didn’t particularly want that to be my first official act as leader of the Five Points.
Not when I could scent deeper trouble brewing.
As I stepped into the room, he lifted his head at the dull, thudding sound of my boots against the thick carpet.
MacMurray was bleeding from the temple, his eyes were bloodshot and dazed, and his gums were seeping blood too, but he was still lucid enough to greet death as, cackling like a lunatic, he slurred, "Ahh, it’s the idiot who can’t read. I’d bow to you, oh, great and powerful leader, but I’m afraid my hands are tied…"
