Page 16

Fury

F ury strode out of his office, his face a mask of unbridled rage. His body was tense as he stormed into the rec room where his brothers waited. On their knees in front of them were six men. The remainder of the Rocking Pines MC that he’d taken over. None of them looked at him.

“Your club failed,” Fury snapped.

“Yes,” the lone officer answered. An enforcer.

“Got nothing to say for yourselves?” Fury hissed.

“Nope,” the enforcer said, looking up and holding Fury’s gaze.

Fury saw he was resigned to his fate. A cruel smile crossed Fury’s lips as he considered his next words.

“Locate the families of those who failed, old ladies, children, parents, sisters, and brothers. Find and kill them. I want a message going out that I’m tired of being let down. The next job I give, they will succeed, or they’ll pay with everything. Not so cocky now, are you, motherfucker?” Fury asked.

The enforcer looked up, and a smirk crossed his face. “You won’t find them.”

“What?” Fury demanded. He was going to end this fucker himself.

“You will not find anyone. Not even cousins, aunts, and uncles. See, asshole, Rocking Pines MC was hostilely taken over. We worked behind the scenes for the last two years, moving our families away with new identities and lives. Yesterday, the direct families, in other words, our wives and children, were moved to safety.

“We knew this would fail, and we guessed what the price would be. Do what you want to us because you can’t touch our loved ones,” the enforcer sneered.

Fury’s temper erupted as the other five men looked up at last with their own sneers.

A shriek left Fury’s throat, and he grabbed his weapon and shot them all in the head. It was an execution.

Another scream left Fury’s lips of pure anger when he realised he’d not even be able to get himself off on their pain. They’d escaped easily.

“Cut them up. Ensure every MC we’ve taken under our umbrella gets a piece of them and understands the price of failure. Make it fuckin’ clear, their entire bloodline will be made to pay for any more fuck-ups,” Fury snarled at Volcano.

“Okay,” his son replied.

Okay? No, it wasn’t. Those Rage and Hawthorne cunts had beaten him again. Fury did not have either woman, and Hawthorne still sauntered around like his shit didn’t stink.

Fury ground his teeth audibly as his men began moving the bodies.

He swore a silent promise to himself. Rapid City was going to burn, as were her defenders.