His Devil's Rage

by Linzi Basset

  “Looking for someone, Mr. Z?”

  The derision in his voice seared through Reece. His body went cold. Dan had always been loyal to Jaden. The man he faced now was a stranger, one who stood before him with murder in his eyes.

  “Don’t worry, Dan is around, making sure we won’t be disturbed.” Jaden gestured to the woman still standing silently in the doorway. She walked closer. “Remember Jessica Simmons? Another one of our team who you so callously betrayed with your selfishness.”

  “How did you find me?” Reece realized he was the one who had to pacify an enemy, because that was who stood in front of him now, not the man he’d loved all his life as friend, partner, and like a brother.

  Jaden barked a short laugh. “Jessica here is quite resourceful. Best decision I ever made to appoint her. She planted a tracking chip in the MOKV flash drive she gave you.” He shrugged. “And here we are, all back together again.”

  Reece squared his shoulders, refusing to cower before him. He sat back down and pointed to the dishes on the table. “Join me for breakfast. I have news that will perk you up.” He ignored Jaden’s furious growl and leisurely continued to eat. “Tomorrow is the day of a new beginning for us, Jaden. Finally, all our plans will come together.”

  One moment Reece was chewing, the next pain exploded in his brain as Jaden planted a straight fist into his cheek. The hit was so hard, it flung him from his chair and he crashed to the floor, blood mingling with the smoky taste of bacon in his mouth.

  “No, you bastard, not before you tell me what I need to know. Get up!” Jaden screamed, his balled fists trembling with anger.

  Reece got up slowly, his eyes unflinching on his once best friend. A shiver of regret raced through him. Jaden’s anger and hatred could only stem from one thing. He spat out the food onto the plate and straightened. His eyes were hooded as he watched him carefully; he wasn’t going to be caught unaware again. He knew how to placate Jaden, all he had to do was remain calm.

  “Let me guess. Jack Blackmore filled your mind with lies and you chose to believe him above your lifelong friend.” He allowed sadness to fill his eyes. “I didn’t leave you there to die, Jaden. I believed you were already dead. Your eyes were fixed, all that blood and half your face was gone. Do you honestly believe I could have walked away from you?”

  Jaden stared into his eyes, noticing the regret and sadness but he refused to be swayed.

  “That’s not it. Tell me about Maureen. Convince me you didn’t know she was the CI who you insisted we put a mark on.” Jaden’s lips curled away from his teeth as he watched the spark of recognition in Reece’s eyes. His voice cracked. “So, Jack was right. You knew it was Maureen.”

  “Don’t play holier than thou, Jaden. In our business, there’s no place for the weak, and she made you weak. Only you couldn’t see it. She used you and you were blind to it all. I couldn’t allow her to continue, especially not once I found out she was feeding information about our organization to the Occhipinti family. Why do you think we couldn’t break through into the drug industry at that time? Every effort we made failed because she foiled it.” Reece shook his head, watching his friend in earnest. “She would’ve destroyed The Sixth Order but more importantly, our friendship. She never loved you, Jaden. To her, you were nothing more than a ticket to richness.”

  “And my daughter? My six-month-old baby girl?” His voice thickened. “What did she do to deserve death?”

  Reece’s eyes flickered. An opportunity to absolve himself from blame glared at him and he grasped it. “That’s on Dan. I made it clear that only Maureen had to be eliminated. That under no circumstances must your daughter be hurt.” He forced moistness to form in his eyes. “He knew she was in the car with Maureen that day and he didn’t care. All he wanted was the accolade of another successful hit.”

  Jaden stared at him indecisively. Reece was a hard man, meticulous and cruel, driven by passion for power, but one thing he’d never done was lie to Jaden. The bond that had formed between them in their youth slowly braided back together. The one thing that had stood like a mountain in front of Jaden was to continue alone in life. Something he couldn’t envision, not without Reece who had stood by him as he had in return. He blinked and made a decision. It was easier to blame Dan than to be cast out like a wounded lion to fend for himself. He watched with relief as he noticed the same emotions flash through Reece’s eyes. They were bonded and needed each other.

  “I believe you,” he conceded slowly. He didn’t bear back when Reece clasped him in a hard man hug. For the first time in two weeks, he could breathe again as he felt the tight band that had threatened to choke him loosen around his chest. Reece stepped back, smiling broadly.

  “Now, let’s eat. A pre-celebratory meal, as it were.” Reece beamed as he dished up for Jaden, leaving Jessica to serve herself.

  “Tomorrow, buddy, is the first day of the rest of our lives without Rhone and Precision Secure in our way.”

  “Perimeter check, Blue Team,” Rhone’s voice sounded sharp in their ears.

  “Blue Team, ready to go,” Keon’s voice rasped roughly as he scanned the side of the house where he and Ethan hunched down behind a low fence.

  “Red Team?”

  “Red Team, ready,” Jack said sharply. He and Alex were stationed at the back of the house with the Green Team, Max and Lance, covering the other side of the house.

  “Green Team, ready,” Lance responded to Rhone’s prodding.

  Rhone and Bruce were on the other side of the lake, ready to approach under water and enter from the front of the house. “Hold on, we have a bogey on the side of the porch, big motherfucker.”

  “Has to be Dan Scott. We’re heading over. You have four minutes to clear the way, Green Team. Do it quietly. I don’t want the fuckers inside alerted,” Rhone said. They had watched Jaden and the woman’s arrival, a bonus they hadn’t expected.

  “Pop him with your Glock silencer, Lance. The drone is picking up music from inside. Just be sure to catch him before he makes a noise splashing into the lake,” Richard said from the operations room in Precision Secure. “Bogey’s position inside are unchanged.”

  “All Teams, we go in four minutes. On my mark. One, two, three … now.”

  Everyone set their watches and waited. Max quietly ran behind the tree line toward the backside of the house. “Give me the go when he’s not looking this way, Lance.” He waited, his body tight in preparation for a quick sprint to get closer.

  “It’s a go. Go!”

  He took off like a spring from a box, light as a feather on the balls of his feet to press his back against the wall. “Ready when you are, mate,” he said softly, homing his senses in to the movement he could detect around the corner. The soft scraping sound of boots walking back his way.

  “Go in one, two … now!”

  Max was around the corner at the same time Lance’s bullet drilled through the big black man’s skull. He never knew what hit him. Max yanked him forward as he jerked backward from the force of the bullet.

  “Fucking heavy bastard,” he grunted as he took the dead weight on his shoulders and dragged him out of sight.

  “One minute,” Keon warned quietly. In the stillness surrounding them, they could hear the soothing Jazz playing inside the house. It was clear Reece had become passive, secure in his belief that they were untouchable. A mistake that was going to cost them.

  “Get ready,” Rhone’s voice rasped in their ears.

  Bruce stood silently outside the door, water dripping from his wetsuit to form a puddle around his feet. His lips flattened as he listened to the drone of voices, their laughter and mirth.

  “How sure are you Morgan will do as told?” Jaden’s voice filtered toward him.

  Bruce gestured at Rhone, who quietly pulled himself from the water onto the patio.

  “She will, believe me, buddy, I’ve got her in the palm of my hand. And Bruce … he’s so besotted with her, he’ll only be too happy to join her for an in
timate lunch.”

  “You’re right, and here I am,” Bruce said in a dark voice as he stepped inside and boldly approached the three people around the table.

  They sat frozen in shock and then Jaden twisted in his chair, gun drawn.

  “I wouldn’t if I were you,” Rhone growled as he stepped out from behind Bruce. “Drop it,” he ordered with a sardonic twitch to his lips, his gun aimed at Jaden's heart.

  Jaden hesitated, clearly considering whether he’d be able to get off a shot before Rhone did. His eyes darted to Bruce who stood with his legs spread wide and his arms hanging in a relaxed pose at his sides, weaponless. Jaden started as the window behind Jessica shattered to pieces.

  “Come on, you bastard, make my day,” Jack growled, his semi-automatic Beretta was aimed at Jaden’s head.

  Jaden knew Jack itched to pull the trigger, especially after the torture he’d subjected him to. He slowly lowered the gun to the table and pushed back his chair, lowering his hands on his lap.

  “Pity,” Jack sneered, his eyes as black as tar.

  Reece watched the interaction with anger raging through him, annoyed at Dan’s incompetence for not being alert. He should’ve seen them coming! His eyes searched the door.

  Bruce barked out a laugh. “Your muscle is already fighting with the devil. Come on, Reece. You wanted me. Here I am.”

  Reece cursed as Keon and Ethan appeared from the hallway, with Lance, Max, and Alex standing guard just outside the front door. There was no escape. He snorted and gestured around.

  “A coward as always, bringing an entire team to back you up.” His mind was furiously searching for an out but the large bodies surrounding them doused any idea that sprang to mind. They were screwed. The best he could hope for was to talk his way out.

  “Just you and me, Reece,” Bruce said with a shrug, spreading his arms wide. “No guns.”

  Reece felt a surge of adrenaline heat his veins. His breathing increased as he pressed against the chair, feeling the comfortable hardness of the sharp knife he always kept hidden behind his back. He had learned all the tricks of street fighting. He wasn’t scared to fight Bruce, no matter that he was bigger, taller, and stronger than him. All he needed to do was get through the door and into the lake. He was fast and no one would suspect he’d try anything so daring. The darkness of the water surrounding the house would offer more than enough cover for him to get to the hidden tunnel beneath the house.

  He got up slowly, stepping in front of Bruce but kept a safe distance. The knife had a rapier sharp point and a couple of quick jabs in his stomach and thighs would be enough to cause excessive bleeding. A slow grin formed on his lips at the thought of him bleeding out in a couple of seconds. He’d have to bide his time, at least until he was close to the door before he made his move.

  With a burst of energy, Reece moved in and jabbed a right at his face. Bruce did no more than swing his body out of the way, his arms remained loose by his sides. Reece followed through with a left, his fist swinging harmlessly past Bruce’s jaw which once again wasn’t there anymore. He realized he’d misjudged Bruce. He was fast and agile as he began to circle Reece, quietly, on the balls of his feet.

  “Ugh,” Reece grunted as Bruce’s right hand shot out. With a little gurgle, he staggered backward, dazed and insulted by the slap against his cheek.

  “That all you’ve got, Reece?” Bruce taunted him.

  A sudden gush of pain jolted through Reece’s body. His stomach ached, his arms lost tension and his legs began to weaken. He never saw the straight left coming but it felt like everything inside him burst open from the impact. He willed his legs not to crumble. Bruised and winded, he retreated, watching Bruce like a hawk. He caught the movement of Jaden’s hand inching toward his gun. A quick glance at Jack set his mind at ease. His attention was on the fight.

  With renewed vigor he bent his legs and charged unexpectedly, catching Bruce unaware with a sucker punch under his jaw. He immediately telegraphed a second round-house punch, which Bruce blocked with effortless ease.

  “That’s better. I was starting to get bored.”

  “You talk too much, Rickett. Talk, talk all the time. All of you fuckers and that’s why you’ll never amount to anything. Why we have always been the better of you,” Reece snarled. His eyes narrowed. He needed to gain advantage, something that would cut through the iron control Bruce had over his body and mind. His lips twitched into a sneer. “Pity you didn’t bring that redhead whore of mine with. It would have been fun fucking her on top of your lifeless body once I’m done with you.”

  Fury flashed in his opponent’s eyes. Reece jeered silently as he threw a punch that connected with a resounding crack against Bruce’s chin, who didn’t seem fazed in the least. Having smelled victory, however convoluted that thought was, Reece pounded at Bruce’s chest and then threw a punch into his stomach that doubled him over.

  “Much better,” Bruce continued to taunt him as he expelled the choked air from his bruised belly. “I might just have some fun after all.”

  The deafening gunshot jerked them both around. Reece felt his breath stall in his lungs as he watched Jaden drop to the floor, the gun in his hand slipping from his fingers to clutter to the ground. Their eyes met briefly before Jaden looked down at the crimson stain widening over his shirt as blood pumped steadily from the wound in his stomach.

  “Didn’t think I’d let you die too easily, now did you, motherfucker.” Jack’s dark voice floated toward him as blood bubbled from his gasping lips. “Not to worry, you’ll probably live long enough to watch your friend follow you into hell.”

  Fury gurgled like sour milk inside Reece. Now it became a fight for survival. He couldn’t afford to let Jaden’s impending death distract him. He spun around, snapping out a wild kick that caught Bruce against the chin, taking him down on one knee.

  “Ah, fucking bastard!” Bruce roared as white-hot pain shot through his side. He gasped as the razor-sharp knife tore through his side. It was a killing wound that missed its target as he’d twisted away just as Reece stabbed at him.

  “I should’ve known you were too much of a coward to fight fairly.” Bruce blocked the next wide slash of the knife and landed a short, straight punch into Reece's stomach.

  Reece reeled back as fresh ripples of pain shot through his torso when Bruce followed through with another body shot into his ribs. He struggled to breathe, realizing he’d never win against the brute strength of the big man. He’d have to get close and punch his gut full of cuts. It was his only hope. He was cognizant of the other men watching in silence. His body tensed as he charged, aiming for Bruce’s jugular.

  The devastating kick came out of nowhere, swept up and powered by Bruce’s tightly coiled torso. It exploded at the end of his water shoes across the front of Reece’s face.

  He screamed, landing on his back as he covered his face, blood spurting from his severed upper lip and broken nose. Bruce pulled the knife from his fingers and threw it aside. Reece blinked away the blood that flooded his eyes. Fear owned him in that moment as he looked into eyes the color of death, dark clouds of gray swirling with blackness. It was a promise of hell waiting for him.

  “You don’t have the guts, Bruce. You’re not a killer.” He cackled out a gleeful laugh as the prospect of a future bloomed inside him again. “I’ll be out of jail in no time and then—”

  Bruce’s dark voice grated out to silence him. His eyes widened and he began to fight the pressure of the hand holding him down.

  “You are hereby sentenced to death. For the murder of countless people, among which is Jacklyn Long, who deserved to be punished for her crimes, but your reasons were selfish. Mostly you are going to pay for the horror you’ve put Morgan through. For that, you will die slowly, helpless, as your blood flows from your body … drop for drop.”

  Bruce yanked him to his feet, holding him by the scruff of his shirt.

  Staring into Bruce's face, Reece knew what death looked like. He shook his head a
nd struggled violently as he watched Bruce unstrap a razor-sharp, carbon stainless steel knife from his arm.

  “You bastard!” he shrieked, thrashing against the immovable arm pinning him to the wall.

  Reece’s eyes widened when he felt the knife press against his flesh. His breath wheezed through his lips as the tip of the blade sliced through skin, muscle and sinew with deliberate slowness.

  “Ugh … fuck,” he puffed out a scream. He felt the knife twist when Bruce pushed it deeper and deeper. His eyes darted around, clashed with Rhone who stood watching stoically. “Help me,” he gasped.

  Bruce smirked as the fear bloomed in Reece’s eyes, his mouth spread open in a silent cry of pain. Bruce felt nothing. No empathy, no guilt or regret as he twisted the knife and tore away at muscle and sinew.

  “This is for Morgan, you motherfucker,” he growled. With brute strength, he thrust the knife all the way into his body, ripping, slicing and tearing away at his flesh.

  Bruce stepped back as he pulled out the blade, watching impassively as the once mighty Mr. Z sank to his knees. His face contorted in a grimace of pain as he convulsed and shuddered on the floor.

  “Watch yourself die,” Bruce said as he leaned over him and yanked him into a sitting position against the wall.

  Reece stuttered in pain, watching the dark blood flow freely from the gaping hole in his stomach. “N-oo … please, B-ruce,” he whimpered as he felt the cascade of his life source trickle out of his wounds. He lifted pleading eyes, desperate to find one among his once friends who would show him some mercy. His eyes flickered. He reached out a hand entreatingly to the one man he prayed would come to his aid. “Lance … please … I―” He struggled to breathe, devastated at the cold, impassive look his cousin awarded him. He looked from the one to the other, shocked that the seven men showed no empathy as they stood watching him die.

  The sunlight filtering through the windows suddenly turned to the grayish dimness of dusk, the Jazz in the background mocked him with its soothing sounds. He could hear the beating of his heart. Tears slithered down his cheek as every beat pounded to a rhythm of the words of his execution as uttered by his judge and jury, Bruce Rickett.