AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Treasurer – R.J.
Road Captain – “G.Q.” Luke
Member – Bryce “Killer”
Member – Jake
Prospect – Artist “Art”
Prospect – Junior
Sneak Peek at Ridin’ for Hell, Royal Bastards MC
“You don’t want to do this, bruh.”
This piece of shit really had no idea how much I actually did want to do this. I fuckin’ lived for it. Breathed it. Inhaled violence, blood, and death in like oxygen jus
t to make it from one minute to the next. I couldn’t function, couldn’t survive through the day without my sinister addiction. My need to rip things apart and destroy flesh was a basic and integral part of the gruesome monster I had become. Nothing else was nearly as important as the vengeance that focused every fuckin’ decision I made.
Shit. I was created to fuck people up.
And I got off on it like a goddamn drug.
“My pres is gonna have your ass, motherfucker,” my prisoner yelled, spittle flying from his busted mouth. The drool was a mixture of blood and saliva as it dribbled down his chin. My gaze followed the movement of the fluid, almost gleeful at the fact that I was inflicting harm.
“Oh?” I asked calmly, unrolling my bag of delightfully sharp steel toys. “I’ll remember that.” Pausing to scratch my jaw, I shrugged as he narrowed his eyes. “I don’t take it up the ass, boy. Maybe you do? Or your pres?”
“Fuck you!” he shouted, wiggling his body and only succeeding in tightening the bonds wrapped around his thick, meaty wrists. The fucker really needed to lose a few pounds. His chubby gut wobbled every time he jiggled.
“I’m not into men although I do have a club member who is.” Turning to Mammoth, I ticked my head in his direction. “Wanna a treat while I get everything ready?”
Mammoth chuckled, folding his arms across his massive chest as he silently appraised the punk dangling like a hunk of raw beef and stripped down to nothing but a pair of boxers. A meat hook secured to the main support beam above held him firmly in place, his feet scraping along the ground with every movement, not quite low enough to stand and much too high to rest on his knees. It was uncomfortable on purpose.
“I’d tear him apart,” Mammoth answered with glee. “He’d be shitting blood for a month.”
Mammoth wasn’t gay but at six-foot-seven he was big as a fuckin’ beast and rumor had it that he was packin’ some serious meat down below. Of course, that was conjecture spread among the little club whores or cookies who kept us all company. But the Scorpions MC member who was cussing us out earlier had paled with Mammoth’s words and didn’t know any of that shit.
Mammoth never changed his expression, just kept those dark blue eyes focused on our prey.
“Let me go!”
A bold and pointless demand. He wasn’t leaving this room. At least, not alive.
I was kind of hoping he’d piss himself soon with fear, especially once he realized he’d awakened to his last hours on this earth when the asshole climbed out of bed this morning. Mammoth’s lips twitched when our eyes briefly met, and I knew he was waiting for the same thing.
We were sick fucks, no doubt about it.
“How many years did you serve in Ely again?” Ely State was a fierce maximum-security prison in our home state of Nevada. Hell, the state’s only death row inmates were housed there. It was no joke.
Mammoth smirked. “Five.”
The Scorpion prisoner went completely still as he listened to our words.
“I can’t remember what the conviction was,” I replied casually, running my finger over the edge of a large hunting knife. “Murder?”
“That’s what the judge said,” Mammoth confirmed, his gaze never wavering from our prey. “Among others.”
“They ever find the fucker you were convicted of killing?”
