by V. Theia
Rider was always impressed with his friend's work.
If Hawk wasn't Rider's VP, he would have been the club's enforcer. The go-to ghost man who would extract the jobs no one else wanted to or could do.
Lucky for Rider, he had two maniacs under his roof.
Spoiled for fucking choice on who to WWE tag in.
He cast his gaze to the second maniac, Lawless stood off to the side, one black boot resting to the wall, the same shade of long coat hanging down by his ankles, his shaved head and ink along his neck giving the only impression needed, he was a mean bastard when he had to be.
He was flipping a silver coin along the backs of his knuckles like he was out for the day and enjoying himself.
Crazy fucker was juiced just waiting for the call to the plate, his bag of tricks sitting at his feet as though he'd brought his gym clothes to work. There was nothing in that bag made for fun, not if you were on the receiving end anyway.
Lawless always had a lot of fun using his tools.
Between Hawk twitching his hands against the worn denim on his legs and the stillness of Lawless, Rider knew the job would get done.
The Rebels were about to lose the last three of their lower ranks. Such a pity. Rats across the world would wear black and mourn for a month. The little shits hadn’t been able to hide deep enough for Grinder not to find them, his tracker was the best hunter they had but these imbeciles hadn’t made a hard job for him. Wiping his head of all thoughts of Icy, or he would have gone lunatic on those bastards before he got any answers from them. As it was, his fists clenched so tight his thumb ring cut deep into his skin.
"We can make this as painless or painful as you want, boys. All dependin’ on what you tell me and how quickly. My boys here want you to choose door number two, so it's all up to you."
Rider parked his tall self in the middle of the insulated barn that stood at the halfway point between his compound and the edge of the mountains, hidden from sight by trees and overgrown tall thickets of bushes, it was the perfect off-site location for all their dirty dealings of the death variety. From the outside, the corrugated tin barn didn't look like much; it was managed that way for a reason so any hikers stumbling on it would just keep on walking.
But inside it was a revolutionary murder room.
Each wall soundproof, the floor was smooth steel, no tile cracks where blood could gather and linger leaving behind traces of DNA. Anyone asked, they were told the truth; it was somewhere to store a prized 1964 Chevy out of the elements. Rider knew hiding in plain sight was usually the way to keep people out of his club business.
Always keep a lie simple. Believable.
Rider stood powerfully in their eye line. He wanted them to see his mood, to feel it in his every word.
They needed to be aware they were going to die tonight. The three men had been hung up like slabs of raw beef from hooks cemented into the ceilings for the last day, kept waiting and hungry, chains tight around their wrists, made to stand on the tips of their boots, there was absolutely no escape for them. Not much breathing time left for them, either.
But as with all things concerning hope, Rider saw the glimmer it in their eyes, perhaps the Renegade Souls wouldn't kill them, they were thinking, maybe just a rough beat down, that they could handle.
He smiled tightly letting them keep that hope a little longer.
Morons would do almost anything to live, he'd found.
He stood in front of Kevin Timebridge otherwise known as T-bone. The cockiest motherfucker staring Rider down with his mouth turned up in a sneer. His stained crooked teeth going in all misshapen angles, the few he still had left in his mouth, and a vicious old scar stitched all wrong slashed down half of his face made him a pretty fucker not even a mother could love.
Rider crossed arms against his chest. All around the periphery stood his boys, first, they'd do the questioning, then came the fun. "I wanna know where Hades is holed up. If anyone is gonna know it’s you, you always were stuck up his ass." Simple enough request, not even asshats like the Rebels could get confused over that.
T-bone smirked before spitting on the floor right near Rider's boots. "How 'bout fuck you. Fuck all'a you Souls. I ain't sayin' nuthin and neither are the others ain't that right?"
Lawless moved before anyone saw him.
A daunting shadow reaching out of the dark, he was behind T-bone in a second, his motion fluid, his thick fist covered in a custom spiked knuckle duster made uniquely for his meaty paw pounded him only once in the bare ribs, making sure to grind, to twist, before he pulled his hand back and half of T-bone's skin and blood with it.
The scream was terrible.
If Rider had had any conscience at all left in him he would have winced.
As it stood, with his jaw tight to hell and his self-control fraught around the edges, he wanted to tell Lawless to go at him again and again, to inflict every slice of pain they’d given to his girl.
He never for a second lost sight of what had happened to her, and these three punks had had a hand in her torture.
They were going to die so painfully; it was just a matter of minutes now.
"Dickbags. I don't think you heard me. So, I'll ask once more, being deaf isn't anything to joke about." Hawk snickered as Rider continued. "We know your president has gone to ground, just like the shithead pussy we know him to be."
"He isn't a pussy, Prez, we like pussies. Hades is a punk-ass rat, going where all rats go, to shit." Offered Grinder in a deeply amused tone.
"True enough, G." Rider shifted his feet along the assembly line of hanging meat, next to T-bone hung Smite. A guy in his late forties, balding in the back and a belly so fat he was a shoe in for Santa if he ever retired. His eyes were wild, made worse from the three lamps throwing up shadows everywhere.
"Hades. Where?"
"Keep ya fuckin' mouth shut, Smite. We ain’t telling these twats anything. We's dead anyways." Rider flipped his amused gaze back to T-bone. As dumb as the guy looked he wasn't wrong.
So, that's how it was going to go. No answers then.
Walking over to Hawk, he leaned into his VP's space, whispered a few choice words. Hawk reared his head back, pinned Rider with a dark glare.
Didn't say a word. Just glared. Rider nodded.
His thoughts had buzzed from the moment he'd left Zara, gone around and around it. Was it the wrong decision, he pondered even as Hawk shrugged a massive shoulder, muttered "fucking crazy." and stalked off, leaving the barn to do what Rider asked of him.
He sent a glance to his other two brothers, who rose their brows in question because Rider had deviated from the plan set out, there was no part where Hawk left until the job was done. He nodded, held up a hand for them to hang tight, this show was still gonna get going, it would still be bloody ending with the same results.
Now he waited.
******
Hawk didn't question Rider often.
They were pretty much on the same page in respect to the club. Always had been.
But this.
Now he knew his prez was being led around by a pretty pussy.
The wind stormed into the club behind him as his boots hit the tiled floor, his stride strong, as his eyes searched out for the girl. He found her in Rider's room, without manners, he didn't knock, opening the door his growl was a nasty impatient noise, he saw he scared her and didn't care.
She was involving her shit in club business.
He knew why she was here. And the sordid reasons behind it.
His gut constricted, threatening to empty everything he'd eaten today, it was only with a complex series of coping mechanisms that he didn't.
Too close to home.
Too close.
Already his palms sweated as he peered at her. She represented everything he tried to forget. Now here she was, all blonde hair and scared eyes conflicting his president and best friend from shit that was club related. "Rider wants you up at the barn." his voice was low, his snarl covered by t
hick beard was still noticeable and he watched her recoil.
"Wh-hat? Why?"
"I haven’t got time to baby your questions, girl. He wants you there, so move your ass, or watch me carry you."
He wasn't touching her for all the fucking Gold in the Midwest.
Fortunately for his clenched gut and rise of bile, and the nervous sweat dotted on his forehead she came with him and stayed silent the whole way back.
******
Rider clocked the roaring stare from Hawk when the door swept open, his VP wanted to challenge him over this, however, it was Zara who had his eyes. If she'd been scared at the request, she was now looking green as she got an eyeful of the three men chained to the ceiling.
Hawk took up his position again toward the far wall. He was all beard and glower.
Rider strode to Zara. His voice dropped. "You have one minute only, baby. That's it. You say what you gotta say to them, then you leave when I say, no questions, understand?"
It took all his resolve not to drag her into his arms and sooth that haunted look on her face. She wouldn't thank him for it in the long run. If this was what she had to do, Rider would grit his teeth and give her that minute, after that she was outta here. He watched steel shut down her eyes, almost as if she'd sent herself away.
His brave girl.
Taking a step back, but still well within touching distance of her if he were to hold out his arm, he caught the glances of his boys in that 'what the fuck is this, prez' way. Rider shook his head, time enough to explain later.
For now, he was seeing how Larry, Curly, and fucking Mo all recognized Zara. it was T-bone the cocky motherfucker who smirked nastily.
Rider had to lock himself down or he'd lose his shit because absolutely no one got to set their eyes on her like that ever again.
He was gonna lose his fucking shit.
His spine rigid, wanting to pull Zara back when she moved finally, walking deeper into the heart of the barn, she didn't have eyes for anyone else except the three prisoners.
One fucking minute. That's all. He warned to himself.
"I bet you're surprised to see me here, huh?" It was T-bone she approached first. Did she know he was the most sinister out of the three? She would know first-hand he was.
He could admire her confronting the worst of the shit first.
Rider's jaw ached from the grind he had going on with his teeth. Sure, she knew, she knew all those fuckheads dirty secrets, had lived at the mercy of their hands for far too long. A minute would have been too long. Fuck. He wanted to storm forward and kill them in the vilest way.
Not yet. Not yet.
Give her this.
"Don't give a fuck who you boning, slut. You gots a hungry pussy, it'll take anythin' even Souls rank dick." Rider didn't even see Zara flinch like she was used to that sort of slur thrown at her. If anything, the attack had kicked her steel into the orbit.
She circled around the men.
"You always were an illiterate needle dick. Who did you say your daddy was, your mama's brother or was it uncle? I get all your incest heritage mixed up." Snickers from behind, Rider saw Grinder cover his mouth. “And you still stink like a swamp.”
Thirty seconds. His fists clenched, rubbed against his pants leg, his neck rolling from side to side, anxious to pull her away. He could wait thirty more seconds. He was too far into his own murderous thoughts that he barely caught Zara's voice in his direction. He rose a brow for her to repeat.
"Can you lower these chains a minute, please? And put these gentlemen on the floor."
Huh. All three of his brothers gawked their eyeballs at him for her crazy as fuck request. The hell, wasn't as though they were escaping any time soon. With his eyes all over his girl, he nodded to Lawless who stepped forward and did the deed, using the crank to lower the chains until all three were stood on their feet. Not so gently Lawless booted their legs out from under them one at a time from behind.
They landed like concrete.
"Thank you, Lawless," she said so sweetly like they were all at a party, for Christ sake. What was his girl going with this? she was meant to tell them to fuck off, spit in their face and that was it.
Oh, fuck--------------- she'd stomped her foot so suddenly on T-bone's dick, a direct hit between the guy's legs grinding with her stubbed heel, his cry was so loud that Grinder rushed forward, Rider shook his head at him.
"No. Leave her. Ten seconds, Zara." his voice was a warning.
She wasn't hearing him, too busy kicking the fuck out of each one, in turn, only going for the crotches, over and over and over.
Oh, fuck. Rider began to smile.
Lawless was laughing his ass off.
Hawk just glared watching.
"You, rancid piece of shit, is this how you like it?" STOMP! "Am I turning you on, you stinking dickwad?! do you like this? This is for all the vile shit, for every time you put hands on me, you, filthy horse-fucker, I hope you die so fucking slowly, I hope the devil ass rapes you until your fucking lungs fall out!" STOMP!
Each kick delivered the cries grew louder, only two of the men begged for her to stop. His girl must have broken their dick and balls ten times over by now, still, she didn't stop.
She was sweating, red in the face, fury in her voice.
Rider thought she looked possessed and fucking beautiful.
Finally, he understood why she'd needed to do this.
Take your power back, baby. His fucking girl. Fuck. Rider might be in awe of her inner strength. She had a gorgeous monster inside of her.
"Zara." Just her name and she looked at him, her breath heavy making her tits heave beneath the hoodie shirt, she was visibly shaking. "That's enough now. Go back to the club."
Like a switch came down over her eyes, she noticeably shuddered, stepped over the unconscious bastards, and nodded to Rider, taking herself out, closing the door quietly behind her. Holy fuck, that had been something. Rider was still grinning.
Maybe his cock twitched a little, as well. She'd been sexy as fuck on her dick killing rampage. The tension in the barn dissipated just like that, he felt as though he could breathe again.
Jesus, never doing that again, he swore. Never putting Zara in a place like this again.
She'd needed it, and Rider had stood back and let her have it all the while his fucking nerves scraped against fire not to step in and take her away. As Lawless worked to crank up the prisoners once more, Rider inhaled, caught a knowing look from Hawk who seemed impressed? who fucking knew with him lately. He didn't much like Zara, Rider got that message loud and clear.
“I mean, even my balls got a little shrunken back there in sympathy.” Lawless chimed. Nothing but the devil is those psychotic eyes.
Rider could see he'd been impressed by Zara.
"Whodda guessed there was such a badass under all that quiet Princess saccharine, Prez" Grinder laughed.
Yeah. Who the fuck knew.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
"It wasn't over; her closure didn't come with murder. She was simply changing the channel." – Zara
It took another hour for the prisoners to wake. Broken dicks would render any man unconscious wishing for death was Rider's way of thinking, and still, he didn't feel an ounce of male solidarity for the dicks.
One by one he asked each Rebel the same question and got the same reply along with pleas to let them go. Pathetic. They didn’t know anything about their president, as Rider suspected, Hades had taken off in the middle of a bloodbath assassination and didn’t worry to lift a finger to help his guys.
He’d hoped they had enough self-preservation to spill their guts, but when faced with death they still weren’t selling out Hades, they either didn’t know or like the fucking village idiots were willing to die for a man who took off running not paying them a care by even looking back.
Either way, this show was about to start.
Rider cocked a subtle brow towards Hawk who smirked sinisterly and guided himself forward, already in
the process of tying a black bandana around his hair, next out of his pocket came a white surgical mask a doctor would wear if he was gonna do open heart surgery. In a way, it was just the same. No anaesthesia, though. So there was that small difference.
They were going to feel every second until death took them.
This was not gonna be pretty.
It was going to get a lot messy.
From behind the mask, Hawk spoke to no one in particular, but all of those suspended got the message loud and clear it was for him.
"Don't want to get blood in my beard. Hate cleaning blood out of my beard." The other two Souls members chuckled as the Rebel enemies began to struggle, pulling at the chains, the length of chain straining their arms so far Rider knew they were in excruciating agony now.
It was about to get so much worse.
"L’Oréal. Because the crazy-fuck is worth it." Laughed Grinder digging in his pocket for his phone, he'd have the music to go ready when Hawk was about to start his work.
"All this for that skinny fucking gash who ain’t even worth a decent screw!" There was a nastiness in T-bone's voice as if he suddenly realizes his ticket was about to get punched for the very last time. His eyes rampant with fear glared at Rider, spittle gathered in the corners of his mouth giving Rider the thought of a rabid dog right before you put it down.
Rider’s whole body spun around. What the fuck had he said?
What. The. Fuck. Did. He. Just. Say.
A hush came like no other, every man silent.
Waiting for Rider's reaction.
