Page 35 of Sinful Skulls (Rebel Skull MC #9)

Chapter Thirty-Three

Elizabeth

I watch her break down on the side of the road in the rearview mirror as I dig the barrel of my gun into Baxter’s doppelganger as he drives us away.

“Do you miss it?” he asks.

I return my attention to him.

“Posing for my brother. What a rush it must have been to hold someone’s heart in your hands as he painted you. You were privileged.”

I’m not playing his games. He will not distract me. I will not fail my daughter this time. He’s a dead man.

When we get to the old abandoned warehouse, he tries to make a run for it, but I was expecting as much. I shoot him in the leg, and he drops to the ground. He yells out, holding his knee to his chest. His eyes are wide. He didn’t think I’d shoot him. He thought wrong.

I stand over him and order him to crawl. “Get moving, or your dick will be next.”

This has him groaning as he rolls to all fours. Slowly, he begins to creep into the building. I take him all the way back to the room where I last saw his brother. The chair is still sitting in the middle, but there is no blood to be found.

“Sit,” I order, and then I lean against the wall opposite him and wait.

“What are we waiting for?” he asks after several minutes.

“Shut up.”

He looks around and continues to bitch about his leg killing him.

“Do you paint dead people too?” I finally ask, just wanting him to shut up about his leg already.

He manages a grimacing smile. “I do, but they’re usually alive when I begin. It makes it more exciting that way.”

The blood thickens in my veins, and his smile widens, knowing he’s struck a chord. “You’re sick.”

“And you’re not?” He waves his arm around the room.

This makes me laugh. “Oh, I’m sick in the worst way.” His ears perk up, and he tips his head to the side as he tries to understand the rumbling he’s hearing. “I’m going to get great pleasure out of watching you suffer.”

A few seconds later, the door bursts open, and Henry jumps from the chair. Brody grabs his neck and pins him to the wall. Jacob kneels down beside me.

“Are you okay? Give me the gun, baby.”

I release my hold on it and let him help me to my feet.

Henry makes a gurgling noise, struggling to breathe.

“Don’t make it too easy for him,” I tell Brody.

Brody slowly eases his hold, keeping him against the wall while giving him a death stare. Henry gasps for breath, coughing.

Jesse and Dirk join us shortly after.

“What have we here?” she asks, walking over to Henry and running her red nails through his hair.

“Your brother was prettier than you …” she taunts, clicking her tongue in his face.

“You know, I think I left my wood burner last time we were here.” She backs away looking around the room.

“Well, will you look at that. It’s still here! ”

“Let’s get you home, baby,” Jacob says, urging me from the room.

“No.”

Brody glances at me over his shoulder. I can’t read his face, but I’m sure he’s angry at me. Rightfully so.

“He’s mine,” he says, his voice low and deadly. “If you want to watch, fine, but I’m telling you right now, it’s going to be bloody.”

Jesse claps and flips the chair Henry just occupied. “Let the show begin!” she cheers.

Brody turns his attention back to the man whose life is in his hands. He places his forearm over Henry’s neck. “What did you do to her?”

“Nothing!”

“I saw the painting!” Brody yells, spitting in his face.

My heart drops to the pit of my stomach. No. No. No.

“All I did was paint her. It was my blood. I didn’t hurt her.”

“So she undressed herself?” Brody asks, applying more pressure to his throat.

“I had to. She was asleep, but I didn’t touch her.”

Brody reaches in his pocket and pulls out his knife. “Hold him down.”

Jacob and Dirk jump into action.

“He likes blood. We’ll give him blood.”

And that’s the last thing he says before he begins.