Page 27 of Wild Side (Vicious Reapers MC #3)

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

MAVERICK

“Wake up,” a voice snaps. “Right fucking now.”

I feel a sharp pain in my ribs and let out a long groan. Forcing my eyes open, I look around to see that I’m in the same place I was, in the shop, but I am definitely not where I want to be, which is on the floor.

Trying not to make a sound, I search for Lightning and Viking, but if they’re here, they aren’t within my line of vision. Neither is anyone else. I’m seemingly alone, even though I know I’m not. I can’t be, because someone just kicked my ribs not too long ago.

Then boots and jeans appear in front of me. See? Not alone. I knew I wasn’t. The person crouches, and that’s when I see his face. It’s not who I expect. Who I expected to see in my line of sight was the fucking buyer. But no, that’s not who is looking at me in the fucking eyes.

I recognize the man in front of me, not because he’s a client, but because he’s hung around the club before. He’s partied with us, and I’m confused as fuck as to what’s going on. I don’t even know how he ended up here, let alone with my buyer. What the fuck is going on?

What the actual fuck?

I start to ask him when he decides to grace me with the knowledge of why he’s here and what the fuck he actually wants from me. I bite the inside of my cheek, worrying it as I think about how to not only get out of there, but also, where the fuck are my men?

“I want to take over your little operation. I’ve been watching you guys for a while, and I think I could really make this work. So what’s going to happen is that I’m going to tie you up with the rest of your little bitch boyfriends, and we’re taking everything.”

Before I can respond, he grabs ahold of my bicep, and then I feel another set of hands on my other bicep. I guess I won’t be reaching for my gun. They drag me away, and I know I could fight and take them both down, but I decide to wait until I know exactly what I’m being dragged into… literally.

They take me toward the small office, where we hold our paperwork and files on legitimate clients, none of which is anywhere near close to up to date. Lightning, Viking, and Bullet are there, tied together, their backs against one another. I swear to fuck it looks like one of those action flicks.

The only way this could be any more cliché would be if the assholes claimed they were going to set the building on fire or something. I might actually laugh if they said that shit. Like they’re some kind of evil masterminds.

“Where are the prospects?” I ask.

“You mean those fucks who betrayed us for a few bucks?” Viking asks.

Oh, fucking hell.

“You’ve got to be shitting me,” I hiss.

I almost forget that these two pieces of shit are in the room with us and that I need to overpower their asses so we can get whatever this is completely and totally figured the fuck out and stopped.

“No,” Bullet grinds out. “We are not.”

I take this moment to get rid of these two idiots who have my arms. First, by lifting my leg and kicking the knee out of the fuck on my right, the hang-around that decided he was going to be Billy Badass but failed fucking miserably.

He falls to the floor with a cry, and I use my now free hand, balling it into a fist as I swing it around and land a punch, slamming it into his eye and hopefully causing irreparable damage.

He falls back as well, which gives me the opportunity to reach for the gun in my shoulder holster, something they didn’t think to check, which was fucking stupid on their part, also something that I find pretty fucking hilarious.

I hear the fucker I kicked in the knee struggling as I pull my gun out, pointing it directly at him. I arch a brow, jerking my head over to his friend, who is moaning and rolling around, holding his eye.

Once again, this feels too easy. This is too seamless. “Slide it on fucking over,” I grunt.

He slides his ass over to his buddy, and I wonder what to do next. If I shoot, the other people in the building might come rushing in here before I can free the guys from their restraints.

Although, as I take them in, I realize that I don’t think they’re going to try to rush me at any point. They are still moaning as they roll around on the floor. What a couple of fucking pussies.

Holding the gun in my right hand, I unsheathe my knife with my left, and although it’s awkward, I’m able to cut the rope that is tied around their chests, holding all three of them together like a goddamn Looney Tunes cartoon.

The next thing I do is cut Bullet’s zip tie that is wrapped around his wrists. With him free, I can focus my gun and attention on the two assholes. Bullet slips the knife from my hand and finishes freeing Viking and Lightning.

“Who the fuck else is here aside from you, my buyer, and the prospects?” I demand.

The hang-around doesn’t say shit. He’s holding his fucked-up knee, with tears streaming down his face like a little bitch, those teary eyes narrowed on me as if he’s going to intimidate me for a single moment.

He doesn’t.

None of them do, and the only way they could attempt to overtake me was by knocking me out. I don’t know how they got the other guys, but I’m going to assume the prospects, who betrayed our club, had guns.

This shit is going to get sorted. And fucking fast. Once all three of the men are freed from their restraints, I flick my gaze between them.

I wait for them to tell me what the fuck is going on, but they don’t expand on anything much, other than we need to get the fuck out of here and lock down the shop, which includes taking care of those prospects.

“We’ll be having church about this later,” Bullet grinds out. “But for now, let’s clean this fucking shit up.”

“And by clean up?” I ask.

My attention is focused on these crybaby fucks on the floor in front of me. Fucks who thought they could best us. Fucks who thought they could steal from us. Fucks who thought they were going to overpower us.

Fucks who are dead men breathing.

“End them all,” Bullet grinds out. “But save the prospects for later. That is going to happen at the clubhouse.”

I’m not sure if I should be smiling at the thought of that, but I do anyway.

I lift my hand, aiming my gun at the hang-around.

Tilting my head to the side, I stare at him for a moment.

To his credit, he doesn’t beg or plead for me to spare him.

Instead, he jerks his chin up slightly, awaiting his punishment.

What I want to do is torture him, but we don’t have time for that. The others, who are currently loading up our products, are no doubt going to come looking for these assholes soon enough.

“I’m not going to shoot him,” I state.

Slipping my gun back in my holster, I hold out my hand.

Bullet slips my knife into my palm before I curl my fingers around the handle.

Moving toward him, I sink down to my knees and slide my blade across his neck.

There is no show, no flair. It’s much like it was with Halo.

Warm blood covers my body. I don’t make a move to wipe it off, as sick as it probably is.

I simply kill him.

Then, turning toward the buyer, I straighten my knees and take a step backward. As much as I want to end them both, I know I should give the opportunity to someone else, considering these people fucked with us all.

Bullet doesn’t hesitate. He takes the knife from my grasp and moves forward, slamming it into the buyer’s chest. He opens his mouth to gasp, but nothing comes out. Turning my head, I look over to Bullet, my lips smirking.

“That was fast.”

“Let’s get this done. I need to get home to my woman,” Bullet grunts.

I can agree with that shit. I want to get home to mine, too. I almost text my brother to check on her, but I decide against it. I need to get this shit done and handled. I need my woman.

I never understood that before. Needing a woman. Sure, I needed sex. Needed good head. All that. But right now, I could wrap my arms around my woman without even being inside her, and I think I could be satisfied.

We slowly walk out of the office as we listen for any movement inside the building. I know where they probably are. No doubt they are posted up outside the back door, unloading shit. The four of us move toward that back entrance, and we see them.

Two prospects are loading shit up, and another man is standing beside them. I recognize him as the driver from the box truck. Clearly, there were more people involved in this than I could have imagined. It doesn’t mean that they’ll win, though.

I won’t let them.

Crossing my arms over my chest, I press my lips together and watch the pieces of shit load up our stuff into the box truck.

“Good job there, guys,” Bullet calls out.

All three of them freeze in their spots, their heads swinging to the side, their eyes shifting in our direction. I smirk at the look of shock on their faces. Fuck me, I love it when we can surprise assholes.

And these are the biggest fucking assholes I’ve ever seen.

The prospects reach into their vests, but they don’t get the chance to do shit. Viking and Lighting have those bitches on their knees with their wrists together before anyone can say a single fucking word.

The driver tries to take a step toward me, but I take my gun out of my shoulder holster and point it at him, pulling the trigger and watching him drop to the floor. It’s a beautiful sight. I’m not sure it should be considered beautiful, but that’s what it is.

Lightning and Viking drag the prospects away, tossing them into the back of the box truck after patting them down. “Do you think they have anything worth anything on these phones?” Viking asks, holding up two phones.

“A bunch of bullshit,” I grind out.

The driver is on the ground, blood pooling around his body. But it’s the prospects I’m more interested in, because those fuckers betrayed us. Betrayed our brotherhood, betrayed our world. And they’re going to pay for it. The price is heavier than any of them could ever have imagined.

Bullet flicks his gaze between me, Viking, and Lightning, then jerks his chin toward Lightning. As our enforcer, I have a feeling he’s about to get to work. Bullet’s lips press into a thin line before he dips his chin slightly.

“Burn it down. I’m done.”

And that is that.

The president has spoken.