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Kenzo was right, the guy pukes. I skip away to avoid it, and then he passes out, landing in his own vomit. Fuck. I hand over a hundred and so does Garrett. Ryder sits back on his heels and waits for him to wake up.
He does rouse eventually, though only after I whip out my dick and start to piss on the idiot. He chokes on it as we laugh, and Ryder starts up again. Before he gets to the second hand, the guy is sobbing like a baby and spilling everything.
Including who hired him.
The Triad.
They are trying to wipe us out.
“They-they said once you were gone, they were going to divide the city and we could have this side,” he cries.
I laugh at that. “They would have killed you too, idiot. Never work with the bastards, they never keep their word.”
Ryder looks pissed. “I suspect if they want a war, they are going to get one.”
“So-so I can go?” the guy whimpers.
I smirk, and Ryder grins. “No, you’re going to be a message, like I said. Now, please hold still and try to breathe. This will hurt.”
We all sit back and watch Ryder’s handiwork. I did learn from the best, after all. I might be cruel and crazy, but Ryder…he knows exactly where to cut, where to hit, where to slice to inflict the most pain. I’m pretty sure he would have made a good doctor in another life, you know, if he wasn’t such a bloodthirsty bastard.
The man prays for death before it’s through, and he dies in pain and alone, knowing his own mistakes are to blame. I find some boxes, and Ryder places the man’s limbs in each one.
Arms.
Legs.
Hands.
Fingers.
Cock.
Head.
Laughing, we seal them up and carry them out to the car with us.
By the time we’re done, it’s early, and the sun is almost rising. “Let’s go home.” Ryder shrugs into his jacket, frowning at the bloodstains.
“Yup, I wonder what the little bird is up to.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
ROXY
“Flush, bitches!” I laugh, laying the cards on the table. “Read them and weep.”
Tony groans, his big frame stuffed into the dining room chair where we are playing poker. He looks like a gorilla, but the man version. He’s actually very sweet though. An ex-SAS soldier who couldn’t fit back into civvy life. I’ve learned that a lot of the guys’ security hires are the same. All men with nowhere else to go, no other place to fit or call home. My guys gave them that and a pay slip.
“Fuck, how do you keep winning?” Sam snarls, as he throws down his cards. He’s skinnier than Tony, but also massive compared to me. His long, brown hair is tied back at the base of his skull.
“She has to be cheating,” Dem snarls. Now him? He’s an asshole. A rude fucking bastard who thinks women should be seen and not heard. It’s my great pleasure to prove him wrong. Even the others seem to hate him. Pope is still patrolling the apartment and keeping watch, but the others were just sitting there, so it was getting boring.
I searched Kenzo’s room until I found some cards and challenged them to a few rounds of poker while we waited for the guys. There is no way I’m sleeping until they are, so I might as well earn some money. I grab the notes and stuff them down my bra, smirking at Dem.
“You’re just a sore loser, especially to a woman.” I laugh, and his eyes narrow, nostrils flaring. He’s a good-looking son of a bitch, it’s a shame about his personality.
“Yeah, and how’s it feel to be a toy?” he snaps.
