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CHAPTER FOURTEEN

LIAM

Pushing from the wall when I drop my arm, Isaac rasps, “Keep the fucking whore. She doesn’t listen for shit anyway.”

The room falls silent, except for the faint sound of Isaac barking at hospital staff as he makes his way toward the elevator at the end of the hall.

“I thought you were going to kill him,” Sasha confides as Isaac storms from the room.

“I thought about it,” I confess. One small shove and I could’ve crushed his trachea with my forearm. The world— and Sasha —would’ve been a better place for it.

“I wish you would have,” she shares coldly, her pleading, chestnut eyes boring into mine.

Sasha rolls across the bed and onto her side, tucking the pillow into the crook of her neck. I pull the blanket up her body, silently encouraging her to get the rest she so desperately needs. Her sad, brown eyes meet mine. “He’s not going to listen.”

Grabbing my chair, I slide against the side of her bed and settle back into it to uphold my promise to her. We sit in silence, and I wait patiently as Sasha’s eyelids grow heavy. She hovers on the brink of sleep and groggily mutters, “Isaac always gets what he wants. Money… Status... Me.”

I should mind my business and definitely not say what’s on my fucking mind. I should probably do a lot of things. Taking Sasha’s hand, I give it a gentle squeeze and whisper, “Not this time, sweetheart.”

From her bedside, I text my brothers.

Where does this asshole live?

DECLAN

You KNOW where Finn lives.

I’m fucking serious. Where does he live?

CONOR

I already beat the fucking piss out of him tonight

Not good enough.

He’s still fucking breathing.

TRISTAN

SoHo

7860 Mercer Street

I’ll meet you there. Twenty minutes.

Pulling my card from my wallet, I tuck it into Sasha’s hand before leaving her room. The traffic is so light at this hour that I make it from Midtown to SoHo in fifteen minutes. After parking my car down the block, I wait at the curb outside the next building for Tristan. He arrives a few minutes later and pulls his Tahoe into the alleyway between the two buildings.

“How’s Layla?” I ask as we walk in silence into the building and to the small elevator bank, knowing how distraught she was over what transpired tonight.

We step into the empty cab when it arrives, and Tristan presses the button for the penthouse. “She’s okay.”

We ride in silence for a moment before I inform him, “Anyone that recommended this fuck is out. And whoever recommended them needs to be re-vetted. Because this shit isn’t happening ever again.”

“You’ll get no argument from me about this.” Tristan nods. “And I don’t exactly see anyone but the rescinded members having an issue with it.”

The elevator opens to a small foyer and the lone door to the penthouse. Tristan braces to shove his shoulder through it before I stop him. Pulling the lock pick from my pocket, I kneel to pop the door. “It’s not going to look like an accident if we rip the door off the hinges.”

“Apologies,” Tristan quips with sarcasm. “I didn’t realize we weren’t going to beat him to death.”

“He deserves to go out gasping for his last breath.” I push open the unlocked door. Navigating through the dark, we make our way through his lavish apartment. Tristan and I both pause at a cracked bedroom door when we find him wanking in bed with his laptop on the bed beside him. Stepping into the room, I snark, “You’re making this too fucking easy for me.”

“Wh—what the fuck?” he blubbers with his hand still wrapped around his cock.

“Don’t stop on our account,” I tease as Tristan draws his gun to ensure Isaac stays exactly where he is. “This will be even more believable when they find you with a load crusted over your stomach.”

“They?” Isaac squeaks.

I lift Isaac’s discarded trousers from the floor as we cross the room, slipping the Gucci belt from the loops with every step. Standing beside his bed, I make a noose with the belt. “I know we listen and we don’t judge.” I overtly dart my eyes toward the laptop screen, drawing Tristan’s attention to the snuff film. “But, what the actual fuck!”

“Does your mother know that’s the shit you watch to get off?” Tristan asks.

Isaac snaps his head toward Tristan. “What?” he blusters.

Using the distraction to my advantage, I slip the noose over his head and quickly cinch it around his neck. I loop the loose end through the wrought iron headboard and pull it until Isaac gags. Leaning close, I can’t help but torment him. As Isaac desperately tries to pull the restricting leather from his throat, I darkly whisper, “Tell me you’re an abusive piece of shit and I’ll tell my brother to shoot you in the head. Let you off easy.”

He chokes on his words when I ever so slightly loosen the noose, his body craving the tiny breath over the confession that would save his life.

“Sorry,” I taunt, pulling at the leather strap again. “I didn’t quite catch that.”

“You’re a sick fuck sometimes,” Tristan gaffs, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. “But by all means, do your thing.”

Wavering between a suffocating hold and allowing him the faintest of breaths, I keep Isaac hovering at the terrifying edge of death for almost an hour and verbally berate him for being an inhumane piece of shit. He tastes death countless times, only to be repeatedly denied the relief of actually meeting his untimely end. Tears trickle down his face as he silently pleads for his life, his body so exhausted he can’t even fight. “This time, I’m letting you feel exactly what you made Sasha go through.” I pull the belt taut and his eyes blow wide, realizing that this is it. This is his end.

I knot the belt around the headboard when his body falls limp, leaving him to look like he had a tragic wanking accident. Breath play is fucking dangerous.

When we’re riding the elevator back to the lobby, Tristan asks, “Feel better?”

“Yes.” I nod before returning to our prior conversation. “No more mass member additions, either. And discreet panic buttons in the hall because my shoulder is fucking killing me.”

“Poor baby,” Tristan teases, reaching out to rub it before I smack his hand away. “And agreed.”

Parting ways where Tristan parked his SUV, I walk down the block to mine. My phone buzzes, and I pull it from the front pocket of my jeans. Swiping it open, I find a text from Finn.

FINN

Fuck! Did I miss all the fun?