CHAPTER ONE
Psych
I stare at the blubbering mess of what used to be a man named Marco. He is strapped to a chair that my father has bolted to the warehouse floor for situations like this. The bare light bulb that hangs above his head offers the only illumination on this dark and dreary night. There is no escaping me or the Fallen Legion MC. The warehouse is deserted and decrepit, located on the outskirts of town. No one comes out here anymore, and that’s exactly the way we like it.
“What do you want to do with him now?” Gears questions, his face a mask of indifference.
I stare at my best friend for a long moment while debating how to answer his question. We have known each other our entire lives, and he would never judge me or question my decisions. But what I am feeling is beyond words. There’s a reason the Fallen Legion gave me the nickname “Psych.” I deserve to be locked up in a psych ward on the best of days.
Today is not one of my good days.
“Blowtorch.”
Gears hesitates for a single heartbeat before moving to get what I asked for. This may not be his style, but he has had my back since we were five years old, and he will in this as well. Stepping closer to the man, I take in the work we have already done. On the floor lay all ten severed fingers, and his face and torso are beaten to a pulp. He used to be what people would classify as an attractive man. Mid-thirties, dark hair, clean-shaven, nice suit. It’s exactly what made him the perfect predator. No one expected it.
If you saw him now, though, you would never have guessed what he used to look like. His expensive suit is ruined. Not just from the blood I’ve spilled today but the fact that he pissed himself at the beginning of the fucked-up adventure we’re on.
“Please,” he pleads through his busted lips. His voice is low and pained.
A sense of immense satisfaction flows through me, knowing I’m responsible for his current state and I will be responsible for his death before the sun rises later. My panther prowls the corners of my mind, not yet satisfied with the violence we have wrought against this piece of shit.
“Tell me, Marco,” I say casually. “Did you stop and heed the pleas of the women you raped? Or did you simply continue to do whatever you wanted?”
Marco shakes his head. “I never—” but I cut him off with another hard hit to his face.
“Don’t lie to him,” Gears says calmly. He sets the blowtorch on the table we have stationed beside the chair. “You don’t want to piss him off.”
“I’ve seen the footage."
You were caught red-handed and still want to lie to me?”
My voice doesn’t rise with my anger. I am calm and in control. Always.
“I’m sorry,” Marco sobs. “I swear it will never happen again.”
“Finally.” I smile at him. He shrinks back away from me as far as the chair will allow, knowing this isn’t going to end well for him. “Something we can agree on.”
Circling behind him, I take a set of rusted tongs in one hand and the blowtorch in the other. My panther purrs in satisfaction, knowing there will be more bloodshed in the near future. I smile in relief, finally being able to slake my bloodlust and satisfy the monster that lives just beneath my skin. The violence calms me. It’s why my father, the President of the Fallen Legion MC, promoted me to the position of Enforcer the moment I was fully patched into the club. I live and breathe for this shit.
“Cut his suit off him,” I instruct Gears calmly. Marco sobs louder, blubbering words that I can’t even make out as my friend complies.
As the last fragments of material hit the blood-soaked concrete floor, I step back in front of him. “Now, it’s time for you to receive some of the pain you so easily wrought on those innocent women. You can scream and cry, but I will have no mercy. Just like you.”
Using the tongs, I harshly grip his shriveled prick and lift it away from his body. With a trained flick of my wrist, the blowtorch shoots to life. Marco tries to scurry away, but there is nowhere to go. It’s time to face the consequences of his actions. The scent of burning flesh and singed hair permeates the air and burns my nostrils as I run the flame slowly along the length of his cock. ...
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