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“Okay.”
Groaning, I push up from the couch. “I really do need to get going.” I lean over her and press my forehead to hers. “Are we good?”
“We’re good.”
“Thank fuck.” After kissing her, I add, “Text me when you get to the bar.”
“I will.”
Feeling slightly lighter than when I arrived home, I head to the bedroom to grab clean clothes. I shouldn’t bother because a dead man’s blood will be soaking them before long, but I have no interest in putting on the clothes with that girl’s lifeforce all over them.
As I make my way across the compound, toward the shed, I let her image return to my mind. I latch onto the rage at finding her dead in that alley, her friends screaming for help as her murderers attack them.
But it’s Satan’s Legacy’s turn now. We’re the predators, and those assholes are the prey.
When I reach the clearing, Brady and Carnie are standing outside the door. “‘Bout time you showed up,” Carnie snaps. “Prez said we had to wait for everyone before we could end their miserable lives.”
“Who’s manning the gate?” I ask, knowing Little Man is at Barlow’s.
“Spark volunteered,” Brady says.
“Well, then, I’m here. Let’s get this party started.”
Carnie lifts the latch and opens the door. The men’s screams fill my ears, but I tune them out and focus instead on my brothers’ taunts.
“I’m gonna slice your balls off and feed them to you, forcing you to chew through your own sac,” Magic snarls.
“And I’m gonna slit your throat and fuck your neck with your own dick,” Toga seethes.
“You’re gonna feel a million times the pain you put that girl through,” Prez adds.
We all go round and round, taking turns explaining, in detail, every twisted way we’re going to torture them. There isn’t a brother in this shed who’s not out for vengeance, and we take our time before we get to the real fun.
I have no idea how much time passes before Magic selects the first instrument, but both men have pissed themselves several times, and one of them has vomited. The stench is both horrifying and fury-fueling.
Leaning against the wall, I watch my brothers take turns with different weapons, doling out punishment, bringing them both to the brink of death without letting them slip over that edge. My phone pings with a text notification, but I ignore it, knowing it’s probably just Kennedy letting me know she arrived at Barlow’s. Within seconds, it starts to ring, but I silence it, eager to begin my turn.
“Dip, you’re up,” Snow says as he tosses the ice pick to the floor.
Pushing off the wall, I stride toward the weapons, taking my time to pick the most brutal of what’s left.
“There’s not much breath left in them, Dip,” Carnie calls from across the shed. “Might wanna hurry up.”
Another cell phone rings as I reach for the machete. I’m dimly aware of Snow answering the call, but I tune him out and spin around to face the men barely clinging to life as they dangle from the ceiling.
“Which one of you wants to go fi—”
“Motherfucker!”
I whirl around to face Snow. “What is it, Prez?” I ask.
“Brady, Carnie, finish this,” he orders. “The rest of us are riding to Barlow’s.”
My stomach bottoms out. “Prez?”
Snow closes the distance between us and grips my shoulders. “Keep your head, Dip.”
“What the fuck is going on?”
