Page 16

FIFTEEN

Rafe

“You don’t have to do this for me,” she says to me as I add Epsom salts and some of her lavender essential oil to the bathwater. “I’m more than capable, and I know the brothers are waiting on you to get the party started.”

I huff out a laugh while shaking my head. “Those jokers are more than capable of starting their drinking and partying without me. I wanted to spend a few minutes alone with you, babe, and see how you’re doing after today.”

“I mean, I’m fine, I guess. Still a bit sore, of course, but it gets better every day. Why?” she asks.

“I was referring to all the talk about Gage. How does that make you feel? I know things didn’t exactly end well between the two of you, and you weren’t able to talk to him.”

Her shoulders drop as she faceplants into my chest. Automatically, my arms go around her as I pull her close. Fresh air, sunshine, and Issy’s unique floral scent envelop me as I breathe in deeply. There’s a hint of sweat, but it’s imbued with her, so it doesn’t bother me.

“I wish I could’ve because I think we would’ve gotten past it, don’t you?” she questions. “I mean, you saying that he told you him getting between the bullet and you was for atonement, kind of breaks my heart. I know he probably felt that way, but in reality, he just made a very bad decision.”

My body freezes because what Gage did was way more than a bad decision on his part as far as I’m concerned. Yet, my kind-hearted woman, who is fierce in so many other areas of her life, is willing to look for a silver lining with this particular situation. I’m unwilling to do that yet. Maybe not ever, because I was too close for comfort to losing her for good.

“Get your soak in, Issy,” I gruffly murmur. Leaning in, I kiss her, then mentally berate myself since she’s not in a position to go further. My dick doesn’t care about her blatant discomfort, but I sure the fuck do. I’m her man, it’s my job to see to her welfare, even when she doesn’t give it a single thought.

“Get your party on, Rafe,” she teases. “I’ll probably curl up and fall asleep to some crime show while reading.”

“And this is different from any other night, how?” I ask, tapping her nose. “But I’ll never complain as long as you’re here in my bed no matter when I’m able to climb in beside you.”

“We gonna finish the prick off?” BamBam asks, the neck of his beer bottle dangling between two fingers. “Especially since Rip’s leaving tomorrow?”

“Well… I mean, we could keep him a bit longer since Rip’s got another shipment heading down. We can just send him back up to Canton with him then,” I muse. “Because I still want him to hurt and the way I see things, he hasn’t suffered enough.”

“Not sure how much he’s actually feeling at this point, Prez,” Gopher interjects. “Doc had to put in an IV because he was dehydrating and also picked up an infection.”

“Probably should’ve cleaned the germs from the KA-BAR when I dropped it on the floor before I used it again,” Chick says. “Oops. My bad.”

“I’d rather take him now since we’ve already got Gage on ice and ready to take directly to the crematorium. That way, I can drop off a little gift at the Devils’ gate,” Riptide adds. “But, ultimately, it’s up to y’all since this isn’t going to be my last visit down this way.”

“Fuck it, let’s go and do it,” I decree. “That way, we can start preparing in case there’s any blowback from Four’s men. We’ve got club shit to deal with, and while this fucker deserves to die a little more each day, we’re busy as fuck right now, especially since foaling season is upon us.”

With bottles of beer and whiskey in hand, we tromp down the stairs, not making any attempt to cover the stomping sounds of our arrival. Four raises his head, his eyes barely slits through the bruising and while he’s hardly able to be heard, I see his mouth utter, “No more, please, no more.”

“Looks like he’s ready to pay the piper, Brothers,” I call out, enjoying his predicament. “Now, BamBam, didn’t you call dibs on the emasculator?”

“No, Prez, that was me,” Gopher replies, with the item already in his hand. “We need one of the prospects to come down and remove what’s left of his pants. No desire to touch urine-soaked jeans, and that’s a shitty enough job, it should go to a prospect.”

I snicker then Abyss states, “I’ll go get Mongrel. He’s the closest to patching in, so let’s see how he handles death, Kings style.”

While we wait for Abyss and Mongrel to return, I look at Doc and ask, “You gonna be able to take off his back patch without any problems?”

Doc shrugs. “We’ve got the smaller cautery tool that I’ll use to keep him from bleeding out.”

“So, no blowtorch this time?” BamBam questions. “Dammit, I’m not getting any fun out of this!”

“If you use the blowtorch, he’ll die before we get the back patch, as well as his dick and balls removed, Bam,” Doc patiently explains. “It’s guaranteed that when y’all decapitate him, he’s a goner, that’s the last part anyhow.”

“Fuck, just shoot me,” Four mumbles, his lips chapped and split. I can see his muscles jumping from being hung up so long and there’s a tiny, miniscule part that feels bad. Until I remember he struck Issy with the butt of his gun and knocked her out cold, manipulated our friend into abducting her, and also stole our truck and trailer. Oh, and the real biggy? He was going to rape her until she was ‘used up’ then auction her off to somebody who’s just as sick and twisted as he is. So, any sense of doing the right thing has just flown out the proverbial window.

“Yeah, you’re not getting off quite that easy,” I retort. “Sucks to be you.”

Abyss returns with Mongrel, whose eyes are wide as he reaches up and pinches his nose. The brothers start laughing as Abyss hands him a vapor rub stick. “Swipe this under your nose, Prospect. It’ll help. Now, what you’re gonna do is strip this fucker’s clothes off. You can cut them off, or what’s left of them, but he needs to be naked.”

I wait to see if Mongrel’s gonna balk. If he does, we’ll be down to two prospects because he won’t leave alive. We don’t allow loose ends to leave the premises when they could be the club’s downfall. It would suck since he’s so close to patching in, but we protect the club at any and all costs.

“Got it, VP,” Mongrel says, approaching Four. Without any hesitation, he unzips Four’s jeans and pulls them off, tossing them into the corner away from the rest of us. Then, he pulls the switchblade from its holster on his belt and with a few slices has Four’s tattered shirt removed from his upper body.

“Now I understand why he was interested in kids,” BamBam states, snickering. Then, glaring at the fucker, he says, “But just because you’ve got a mini weenie doesn’t give you the right to mess with children. Ever .” His last word is spoken at a near roar, which is deafening in the confined space.

“Is it my turn yet?” Gopher asks, grinning. “Doc? Do you need to be close by with the cautery thingie?”

Doc snickers as he holds up the tool in question. “Right next to you, Brother.”

Gopher’s grin is maniacal as he approaches Four’s body. For emphasis, he clicks the emasculator together a few times, the metallic sound somewhat chilling to the rest of us as we all cup our junk. Gopher crouches down, takes the gloves that Doc hands him, and after pulling them on, he glances up at Four.

“This is probably gonna hurt a little bit,” he warns, before he slides the emasculator to the base of Four’s dick. He doesn’t even bother with any kind of countdown. Instead, he closes the handle and Four’s dick and balls drop into his hand. Four releases a chilling scream that doesn’t affect any of us in the least. No, not my brothers. The sounds emanating from him have them all rubbing their hands together as they cackle.

Doc quickly starts the cauterizing tool which stops the bleeding but causes Four to pass out from the pain, then he takes the proffered items from Gopher and places them in the glass cylinder he has which is already prepared with dry ice to keep the integrity of his flesh intact. He then holds smelling salts under Four’s nose to rouse him.

Four promptly vomits all over himself, although considering we haven’t really been feeding him, what he regurgitates is nothing more than stomach bile. Still… “Hose him down, Mongrel,” I demand. “BamBam, you’re up with the back patch.”

BamBam rubs his hands together almost gleefully as he approaches the tool table. He turns to Doc and asks, “Scalpel the best way?”

“Well, it’s definitely made to surgically cut through human skin, so I’d say yes,” Doc replies. Bam grabs the scalpel and moves to stand behind Four with Doc off to the side to offer suggestions.

I consider myself a relatively strong-stomached individual, but after watching Four being castrated, then smelling the resultant burning flesh, I’m ready to puke myself as BamBam carefully, but expeditiously, cuts off Four’s tatted back patch. To give the brothers the credit due to them, while some of them also look as green as I feel, they all stand there with an almost bored, blank look on their faces. Even Mongrel.

In fact, he now has gloves pulled on his hands and moves to take the piece of skin away to put into the glass cylinder alongside his former manhood. Four has once again passed out from the excruciating pain, which will make this next part a little bit easier.

“I’ll do this one,” I state. “Get him down and tethered onto the table in case he comes to.”

The brothers quickly lower him then release the chains before putting him on the table. He’s strapped down so his head is in a slight dip since this isn’t our first dance with beheading an enemy. A basket is underneath with a bag already inside as BamBam hands me the mini bone saw. We used to use chainsaws until Doc got his hands on a medical grade bone saw. Much much easier to handle.

“See you in Hell, motherfucker,” I intone as I start the bone saw and slide it through his neck at the area Doc previously advised was easiest to go through and in less than five minutes, Four’s ugly mug is in the basket, Doc is cauterizing the neck wound to keep the blood from pouring from the beheading, and BamBam and Gopher are cleaning up the tools used.

“Let’s get his body wrapped up and into the trailer I’m taking with Gage’s,” Riptide instructs. “They’re going in the hidden compartments.”

“What about the parts?” Abyss asks.

“Eh, we’re putting that cylinder in a nice cardboard box that’s gonna sit on the passenger floorboard,” Riptide replies. Ballsy fucker isn’t worried about the law pulling him over and checking out the contents sitting on the passenger side.

I grab a shower in my room at the clubhouse, then Mongrel gathers all of our clothes which are now part of the roaring bonfire that’s blazing out back. With a fresh bottle of beer in hand, I sit around with my brothers, glad that this issue is technically resolved.

Granted, the Mojave Devils might try to strike back and take out what we did with Four on the other clubs interconnected to us, but Riptide’s already on notice and well-aware of the situation, and I’ll reach out to the New Mexico and Arizona chapters and apprise them so they can be aware as well.

Who knows? Maybe they’re already dealing with some of their shit that they haven’t put on notice. Still, I have a gut feeling they might still try and cause a problem for our chapter in specific, so I’ll make sure Pokey puts things in place to monitor their ongoing movements. Can’t trust a snake is dead unless you chop its head off and from what I’ve learned in regard to the Devils, they’re the same way. They may come at us to avenge one of their higher up members, but we’ll be ready for them.

Tonight, though, is about enjoying the last few hours of Riptide’s visit before I slip into bed next to my ol’ lady. Hopefully, that’ll happen sooner rather than later.