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I roll him onto his back and press my blade against his lips. He quiets, his eyes growing wide in terror. Blood smears across the bottom half of his face and I kid you fucking not—my dick grows hard.
As always. The blood gets to me.
I smile and trail my blade down the center of his body, going deeper by the second. When I get to his chest, I can feel the blade break through the skin, and I watch as drops of blood start to drip from the slice. When I get to his stomach, the tip of the blade is fully embedded in his skin and the bastard in front of me starts screeching like a hyena.
Easton makes quick work, grabbing a cloth from somewhere and shoving it inside of his mouth. “This place is sketch. We need to take him with us if you want to have some fun.”
I look down at chubby and think on my options. I can take him with me, but he doesn’t seem like that much fun. He’ll probably either cry the entire time or end up dying early from fucking shock. Neither sounds like a blast.
I shake my head. Not this one.
The guy on the floor is panting so heavily he’s nearly hyperventilating. His entire body rocks with his breaths. With my blade in hand, I shove it into his side near his kidneys and twist. The sound coming out of this man is almost comical. Even with the cloth in his mouth, his scream reverberates off the walls and it’s enough to know we have to leave. Now.
“Come on, man.” Easton urges, clearly feeling the same type of urgency I’m feeling.
The bleeding man in front of me passes out. I pull the blade out of his side and slide it back in, this time right on the side of his neck. His eyes pop open in shock for just a moment. Then he twitches, and this time, he’s gone for good.
I watch as the mass of blood on the floor grows bigger until Easton taps me on the back, “Let’s go.” He grabs his phone and punches something in before putting the phone to his ear. “It’s done. Hurry. Oh, okay. Bye.”
It must have been Hugo. He’ll send someone to do a quick clean up.
We exit out the back door and make our way back to Easton’s car. When we hop in, Easton cranks on his car and turns to me. “Rich wants to see us.”
I stare at the blood on my blade as I turn it around in my hands, watching the blood glint off the evening sun.
I wipe the blood off the knife and sheath it, turning to Easton and giving him a nod. “Okay.”
8
Jackson
Arriving at the warehouse, we silently exit the truck and meet Hugo, whose waiting for us at the entrance.
“Hugo.” Easton slaps his hand against Hugo’s, and I give him a nod as we pass through the door.
“Boys. Easton, how’d it go?”
Easton nods his head towards me. “Jackson took care of it.”
Hugo gives me a look like he knows I’m inthat typeof mood and leaves it at that.
We walk silently towards Rich’s office, nodding every so often to the workers that are bustling around.
The warehouse is attached to The Pit, where Easton does his fighting. The warehouse is where Rich conducts most of his business and has most of his higher-ups working here throughout the day, too. My dad and Logan’s dad also work here, but they also have other offices throughout the city, so aren’t here as much as Rich is.
When we get to Rich’s office, Hugo knocks on the door.
A voice barks, “Yes?”
Hugo opens the door, walking in first and the both of us trailing in behind him. Papers are sprawled out in front of him as he reads the documents in a concentrated fashion. When the door shuts, he lifts his gaze and pushes the papers away from him.
“How did things go?” He asks.
“Good. Cleanup should be finishing up now.”
“Any issues?” Rich squints.
“None.”
