Page 71 of Royal

Royal

We watch the security footage on the screen as the girls walk up the stairs and into the kitchen, eating pizza, laughing, and having the time of their lives together.

Shane shakes his head. “I think those girls scare me more than you fuckers, anyway,” he tells us and we all chuckle.

“Trust me, they’re ten times more dangerous because they look all fucking sweet… and then they snap.” Terror grins, staring at Meghan on the screen.

Twister gags loudly, then he bows his head backward and forward, managing to spit out his dick. It hilariously lands on Shane’s foot and he screams like a girl.

Me and my brothers try not to fucking laugh but the second we look at each other, we are done for.

Shane picks it up wearing a pair of gloves and dangles it above Twister’s mouth before throwing it on the ground. His crotch is still bleeding and I know with the amount of blood loss he’s not going to be sticking around much longer.

“My president is going to murder all of you!” Twister yells, his body heaving from the pain.

Gage steps forward at that. “Then let your fucking president rain hell on us, but it’s not going to happen. I talked to him, and he told me to return your head to him.”

Twister is horrified at what Gage just said, but Twister went outside his club and did something they disapproved of. They don’t want any part of it.

I grab a PVC pipe and all of my brothers stand back to give me more room. I adjust the chains until he is leaning over a chair with his ass in the air.

“Wait, what the fuck are you doing?” Twister yells, trying to turn around to see what I have planned.

“What did you have planned for Naomi?” He is silent at that. “I can’t hear you, fucker.” I growl, taking the blowtorch out, running it down his back and over the tattoo his club wants us to burn off his flesh.

He screams. “Okay, I will tell you if you stop burning me.”

All of these fuckers think that we will eventually just let them go, that nothing can happen to them.

In the outside world, justice isn’t reaped where it needs to be, but here? We serve justice as we see fit.

No matter how much pleading, begging, or screaming he does, it doesn’t affect the outcome.

“The bitch insulted me, I had to teach her a lesson. You know what these cunts are like? They try to be the bigger man without anything swinging between their legs.” He pales at the last part he just said, realizing he doesn’t have anything between his legs now either.

“That’s what I thought you had planned.” I walk around in front of him, “You planned on destroying her whole life, when she didn’t do shit to you. She was just at her kid’s fucking party when you decided to steal her.”

Sweat is pouring down his face. “But women have to be shown who is boss.”

All of my brothers utter a sound of disgust. He is the reason why so many fucking women have suffered by the hands of men, because they feel like they’re entitled to shit that doesn’t belong to them.

“How many women have you raped?” Shane steps up beside of me and Twister pauses like he is thinking, still hanging over the chair with his ass up in the air.

“I don’t count,” he tries to say, but I grip his face hard, squeezing.

“Answer,” I demand, and he looks down at the floor for a moment.

“I think around twenty since I was a teenager.”

Holy shit.

“Someone hand me the gas,” I ask my brothers, and Gage passes me a small gas can that we use to accelerate fire or to pour over wounds to cause pain.

I grab the pipe again and, without an ounce of fucking mercy, the same as he has shown all of those he has hurt or tried to hurt in the past—fuck, that shit kills me, because that was almost my Naomi—I shove the pipe up his ass, as far as I can force it to go.

“Did those girls scream as you hurt them? Did they beg you to stop? There is no mercy for you here,” I snarl in his ear.

Twister is shaking, screaming, and going in and out of consciousness.

---