Page 42 of Claiming What's His

“These bitches are all the same, you know. They need a man to take a firm hand with them, to teach them how to act for us. They can cry no all they want, but in the end, they always beg for more.”

I grab Mason’s hand, pulling flat on the dirt floor as I kneel on his arm while he struggles to pull it away. “I’ll give you two choices. Tell me who the plant is or don’t. I prefer option two because then I get to make your death very painful.”

“No! Don’t! You’re really going to give up all that more for that lying cunt?” Mason seethes, still trying to wriggle his arm out from under my knee.

I reach over for the box next to me, pulling out a small chainsaw. I slide the battery pack on and rev it a few times as I watch his eyes go wide in horror. I don’t wait for his answer before I put it to his hand. It sends blood spattering everywhere, as it quickly cuts through bone, as I take off two of his fingers. Mason is screaming his head off. I could barely hear him over the roar of the chainsaw, but now it fills the room around us.

“Are you going to tell me yet?” I ask. Mason has stopped screaming, his face pale as sweat beads on his forehead as his ragged breaths are pulled in through his busted lips.

He gave the prospects a bit of a fight on the way here and they roughed him up until they knocked him out again.

“Stop! You don’t want to do this,” he says. shaking his head. Dirt and blood are matted to his face.

“Oh, but I really do., You on the other hand might want to start talking because I’ll be moving onto your hands that you used to beat my woman with, then I’ll move to your feet that you kicked her with and then comes your dick that you raped her with. I might even make you eat it, just for that added treat.”

“Stop! It doesn’t have to happen like this!” Mongrel begs. It’s pathetic watching this piece of shit cry and grovel. “Fuck my fingers!” He looks faint for a second, so I lean over smaking his cheek with my free hand.

“You’re not giving me a name,” I tell him right before taking off more fingers. I actually hope he won’t tell me who it so just so I can keep going until there’s nothing left.

Chapter32

King

Walking down the hallway, I know it’s time to meet with the guys. I had to burn my clothes out back in the burn barrel, after taking a long shower to get rid of all the blood before I was presentable enough to walk around. Last thing I needed was Shelby seeing me in that state. I don’t think there would be any coming back from that. But I kept my promise and Mason will never hurt her again. I know I’m keeping Shelby and Billie waiting, but that needed done. Plus, I know they are safe upstairs. So, stopping to chat with my Prez and club brothers, feels alright to do. Especially after a long few days of being on the outside, hated by the people I consider family. I won’t take my cut for granted after all this bullshit. I’m just glad that’s done.

I wonder how I pushed myself to such a dark place to deal with Mason, while also having such a soft spot for Shelby. I guess they aren’t mean to be separate, It’s the love I have for her that drove me to make sure that piece of crap would never hurt anyone else again. I walk into Ford’s office, happy to be back in the clubhouse with my cut on. I’m not surprised to see T and Grunt are already there.

“I saw you before you showered. Looks like you had fun in there,” Ford says, nodding. He ran into me at the top of the basement stairs. I was soaked in Mason’s blood. It was the moment between relishing his death and wondering if I pushed myself to a place I can’t come back from. Knowing me like Ford does he talked me down quickly, reminding me of why scum like that don’t deserve second chances.

“I appreciate the courtesy of doing that alone,” I nod at Ford. The plant in his club plus the hit out on him, the right to kill Mason should’ve been his to take. He’s the Prez and he trumps everything else, but he knew that I needed to do it. I needed to avenge my woman and all the wrongs Mason put her through.

“If it was my woman that was involved, I’d want to do the same,” Ford says as T and Grunt make noises like agree.

“We need to get rid of the body,” Grunt says, looking at me. It’s funny that he still assumes there’s a body to get ride of. Right now, there’s just a man sized mess to clean up.

“I’m going to take it to the usual spot and feed the scavengers. At least what there is left over after the woodchipper,” I tell him with a shrug. Not to mention cleaning the basement and getting rid of all evidence.

“Christ, I’m sick of that crap,” Ford says shaking his head.

“W-we have a stew that w-we used to fix in my o-old crew that was pretty ef-effective,” T adds.

“We do that here too, but that bastard was still trying to breathe my air, so I went a little old school to make sure his last moments were the worst.”

We don’t make a habit of taking out enemies and disposing of bodies, but we have enough ticks up our sleeves that if we need to, we have our ways.

A flash of Mongrels body being pulled into the woodchipper as he screamed and cried comes to my mind and I know the moments before his soul descended to hell were as awful as they possibly could be. I just hope that for every moment of suffering he caused someone else, that he felt it before his death.

“D-d-did you get anything u-useful?” T asks, cutting into my thoughts.

“Not about the plant, unfortunately,” I tell him shaking my head, “But for sure they aren’t working alone. There was some crying about heavy hitters down in Miami backing them. Does that mean anything to you, Ford?”

“No, not that I know of,” Ford says, stroking his beard thoughtfully. Its an awful long way from us to have someone gunning that hard especially having to go through the trouble of finding a rival mc to do the heavy lifting.

“I have a few connections down there with the Steel Vipers. I can put out some feelers,” Grunt adds.

“In the meantime, we need to keep a tight circle on our wagons and sniff out this traitor,” Ford growls, banging his fist on his desk.

“What about Apex and the rest of that crew?” I ask. With the bankrollers behind them, it will take a week before someone takes Mongrels place in line to come after us.


Tags: Jordan Marie Romance