Page 56 of Riot’s Thorn (Sons of Erebus: Reno, NV #4)

“The more you know,” Dutch says, bringing his hands together before lowering them in the shape of a rainbow.

“Was that an NBC educational commercial reference?” I ask.

“Yup. Good one, huh?”

“Yes,” I say, not having thought about that in years. “Now, can we load up the bodies so Bart isn’t suspicious? One of us will have to wait at the guard station and buzz him in.”

“Me.” Dutch raises his hand. “He’s never seen me, and my tattoos can be hidden under clothes.”

“Okay.”

It takes three hours to get everything back the way it was because Lucky was right; getting blood out of the grout is difficult.

The cement out front was challenging too.

Also, the chef had to be dealt with. Our doctor patched her up, and we made sure she understood what would happen if she told anyone anything.

She seemed to get the idea when she booked a one-way ticket home to Spain.

Her work visa was ending soon anyway. Problem solved.

“How long do sex parties last?” Rigger asks, pacing the foyer.

“For you? Like, ten minutes?” Lucky shrugs.

“Shut the fuck up. I’ll have you know, I have the recovery time of an eighteen-year-old. I’m like the Energizer bunny.”

“I think Judge might win in a stamina competition,” I say.

All eyes turn to me, but Mustang is the one to speak up. “How do you know that?”

“Killer told me he practices Tantric sex and can maintain an erection for hours. She also said he can give her an orgasm just by embracing and looking into each other’s eyes.

I tried to read up on it because what man wouldn’t want that kind of power, but I can’t sit still for long enough.

Plus, I like more primal play. Actually, a Dom/sub relationship interests me a lot. Only during sex, though.”

“Fuckin’ A, bro,” Lucky says.

“If you want to learn more about being a Dom, let me know.” Satyr slaps me on the back.

“You’re into that shit?” Mustang asks. “How did I not know?”

“I knew,” Rigger says.

“Me too.” Lucky raises his hand.

Rigger’s phone rings, and he puts it on speaker so everyone can hear Dutch from his position at the gate. “Look alive. I just buzzed Bart’s car through.”

Satyr, Lucky, and Rigger stand on one side of the foyer while Mustang and I stand on the other. The driver’s heels clack on the brick drive, and then a car door opens and shuts before the car pulls away. Dutch will make sure the driver doesn’t get wind of what happened.

The beep of the lock sounds, and the door opens to reveal a disheveled Bart.

His suit coat is draped over his arm, the buttons of his shirt undone and untucked, showing his white undershirt, and his belt is hanging open.

Even though I had a feeling Parker wouldn’t be with him, it still disappoints me to find him alone.

It makes me sick thinking about what he’s done tonight and who he’s done it to.

There’s no way he didn’t force Parker into his sick games.

He whistles as he shuts the door behind him as if he just had the time of his life.

Once Parker is safe, I’ll make her tell me all the things Bart and his friends did to her, and then I’ll do them to him, right before I kill him in the most painful way I can dream up.

“Welcome home,” Rigger says, and the five of us step out from the shadows into his path.

“What the hell? Get out of my house.” He flips on the lights. We’re not wearing our cuts, but he’s seen my face before, so it’s no surprise that his gaze stops on me. “Get out now, before you do something you’ll regret.”

“The only thing I’d regret is killing you before you tell me what I need to know,” I say.

He turns and opens the door, but Dutch is standing there, gun in hand and pointing it at Bart. “We’re not going anywhere until you tell us where the girl is.”

“Who? Parker? I don’t know. I haven’t seen her since the funeral.”

I don’t have time to play games, so I pull my knife from its sheath and stab him in the shoulder. “Wrong answer.”

He howls in pain, his hand hovering around the knife as he debates what to do. “You’re all insane. Do you know who I am? I’ll have you all thrown in jail if you don’t leave this instant.”

“Do you know who we are? Because you’ll be dead before anyone knows we were here if you don’t tell us where she is.” I grab the handle of the knife and rip it out, earning me another beautiful cry.

“Let’s go in the dining room, shall we?” Rigger shoves him down the hall.

“My wife was home. Where is she?” He looks up the stairwell as we pass. “Anadell?”

“You’re calling on your wife to help you ? ” Lucky asks. “Fuckin’ pussy.”

“Besides, that bitch is dead,” Satyr says.

“No,” Bart whispers. “She can’t be.”

“Oh yeah. She’s super dead. Tonight, she’ll be cremated and scattered in the landfill.” Satyr claps a hand on Bart’s shoulder. “Just returning garbage to where it belongs.”

Tears well in Bart’s eyes. “She didn’t do anything. She was innocent.”

“She dressed my woman and sent her with you. That’s a fuck ton more than nothing,” I say lowly.

“Oh, god. It’s my fault. It’s all my fault.”

“Glad we agree. Now sit the fuck down and start talking,” Rigger says, shoving him into a seat.

Bart grips his shoulder where there’s a steady stream of blood soaking his shirt. “I didn’t take her. She didn’t come with me.”

“Liar.” I stab my knife into his hand resting on the table. “Your wife told us she went with you.”

Bart throws his head back, eyes closed tight, and hisses. “She was going to, but she was being difficult.”

“Dude, if I were you, I’d talk a little faster. This guy doesn’t have a lot of patience, but he does have a big imagination that he uses to inflict pain on people who don’t do what they’re told,” Lucky says.

“I don’t know where she is. That’s the truth. I don’t arrange any of that. I just buy and sell.”

I yank the knife free and stab it into his thigh this time. “The blade on this thing is long enough to hurt but not long enough to cause a lot of damage, meaning I can do this all night, and you won’t bleed out.”

“I’m telling you the truth.”

I flip the table, forcing Rigger, Dutch, and Satyr to jump backward. Then, I’m standing in front of the asshole, and my fist is connecting with his face over and over. Warm blood sprays onto my face, and my fist screams as it breaks the bones in Bart’s face, but I can’t stop.

Lucky gets behind me and pulls me away by locking his arms around my elbows, but I’m consumed with blood lust, so I whirl around and give him a shove. He’s bigger and stronger than I am, but I don’t care. He’s standing in the way of me getting to my girl.

The easy-going giant’s eyes darken as he squares his shoulders. “I’ll give you that one because you’re in a shit position, but one is all you’ll get, so I recommend taking all this energy and figuring out how to get your girl back.”

The fucker’s right. I nod and turn back to Bart. “Where is she?”

“You’re a fucking lunatic. She’s better off without you.” He spits a mouthful of blood onto the floor.

I kick him in the chest, and his arms windmill as he falls backward. Straddling him, I grip him around the throat and squeeze. “Where is she?”

“Why would I tell you? You ruined my life,” he chokes out.

“That’s what I do.” I slam his head into the tile floor.

“I ruin lives. Started with my mom and dad, and now, I ruin lives for a living. But I won’t be the reason Parker’s life is ruined, so if I have to, I’ll set up shop here and kill you so slowly and painfully, you’ll pray for death. Now, tell me.”

“Why would I? You’ll kill me either way.”

“You’re right.” I release his throat. “Get him on the table.”

My brothers right the table and lay him down, each holding one of his limbs. The stench of piss fills the room, and I notice a puddle forming under him. Fucking sick. I hate it when they do that.

“What’s the play?” Rigger asks.

I take my knife and have my brothers hold his legs up so I can slice through each of his Achilles tendons.

Blood sprays everywhere, and Bart’s screams of pain are otherworldly.

Leaning over him, I look him dead in the eyes, hoping he can see just how far I’ll take this.

“If I don’t get her back, this pain you’re feeling will be nothing.

I’ll take you to the brink of death and bring in our doctor to fix you up just so I can do it all over again.

Every single day I’m without her, I’ll take it out on you. Trust when I say, you don’t want that.”

“Fuck!” He writhes, every muscle in his body taught. The Achilles tendon being severed is excruciating, at least from what I hear. “I don’t know, okay? I don’t know.”

His split lower lip wobbles, and it makes me sick.

When a man does something wrong, he has to be willing to suffer the consequences and own up to his mistakes.

It’s something I think about before I take a life.

Would I regret killing this person if I were found out? If the answer is no, bullets fly.

“Why don’t you know?”

“If I tell you, you have to promise to kill me fast.” He’s in the resignation phase and knows he won’t escape this, so now, he just wants it to end.

“Bullet to the head. Promise.”

“Fine. I’ll tell you.”