“What’s the matter, Tommy?” I smirk as I come to stand beside Nicky. Cocking my head to the side, I eye him up and down as my arms cross over my chest. “Imagining what she looks like wrapped around me?”

He thrashes, kicking his foot out at me in my direction, though it doesn’t quite reach. My stomach sours at the thought of using my most intimate moments with Jones to pick at this fuck, but it’s what’s going to break him. Nicky knows it, too. It’s why he’s still standing stoic beside me, rather than pummeling my face. So, I lean in hard, forcing a menacing smile.

“Oooo, or maybe you don’t need to conjure up a mental image. You’ve been following us, right? So, you must have caught a glimpse of the real deal.” It takes every ounce of control not to peel his skin from his bones at the sheer thought of him seeing her like that. Still, noticing the tortured pain in his eyes, I press on. “Jesus, we fuck so much it would be impossible for you not to. What’s your favorite part? Hmmm? When she’s riding me in the car, screaming my name as she comes undone on my cock? Or when I sneak into her room and bend her over her desk in her school uniform, telling her what a good little girl she is? She loves that praise kink shit.”

Tommy goes straight-up feral. He thrashes so hard he dislocates one of his shoulders with an audible pop. His muffled roars sound out from behind the gag as spit seeps out down his chin.

“There it is.” I smile wider as I step into his space. Cocking back, I throw a right hook full force to his jaw. The impact stuns him, his eyes rolling about in his skull. “So, here’s what I think is fair. An eye for an eye. Nicky and I will take retribution for every way in which you’ve wronged our girls, and if you survive all that you can go free. Fair?” I turn, glancing back at Nicky.

“Oh, yeah.” A dangerous smile creeps across his face and I swear on all that’s holy, if that motherfucker looked like this on the regular, I wouldn’t fuck with him on my best day. “Seems fair to me. Let’s start with Daph, shall we?”

Nicky makes his way over to the table off to the side where a variety of tools have been laid out. Selecting the wooden baseball bat, he swings it up onto his shoulder before sauntering back over to us. I step back giving him some room.

“How many times would you say you kicked her, Tommy?” He winds back before swinging the bat forward, colliding with Tommy’s ribs. His face winces as his entire body recoils from the hit. “It had to be more than once, right? I mean, you broke four of her ribs, so…” He repeats the action, landing a direct hit to the same spot before Tommy’s even been able to regain his breath.

A strangled cry escapes from behind his gag, and I’m suddenly blatantly aware of how badly I want to hear this motherfucker scream.

“Hold up, Nick,” I interrupt just as Nicky’s gearing up for another swing.

Nicky pauses, allowing me to step forward and remove the gag. The piece of shit spits at me as I pull it free from his mouth. I backhand him in response before gripping the end of his checkered flannel to wipe my face. Hocking back, I spit straight in his mouth, gripping his chin to force his gaze to meet my own. “That’s the closest you’ll ever get to tasting my girl. Fucking pussy.” I toss his head aside as I clear the way for Nicky once more. “Let’s go Nick. I wanna hear him scream like the bitch he is.”

Without hesitation, Nicky swings with more force than his other two attempts combined. He then repositions himself on the other side, cracking him once from behind. Tommy wails out in tortured pain, and the sound is music to my fucking ears. After a few more shots, Nicky drops the bat, lifting his chin in my direction as if tagging me in.

Rather than head to the table, I look back toward the boys. “Finn.” He stands at attention. “Go grab me one of those bricks from the hallway real quick. The ones that we’re using for the wall reno in the war room.”

He’s out and back in less than thirty seconds, placing the rectangular block in my palm. Gripping the back of my shirt, I pull it up and over my head before wrapping it around the brick. Once I’ve secured it to where I’m confident it won’t fall out, I swing it in a small circular motion. Tommy tracks the movement, eyeing me uneasily.

“You punch my girl in the face?”

His eyes slightly widen when he sees where I’m going with this.

My swinging becomes faster, the movement more pronounced until I step into the motion, making contact with his skull. The loud crack of the brick breaking his nose is a sound I could listen to on repeat. I’d do it again if I wasn’t concerned a second shot would knock him out cold. I want him alert for each and every moment.

I toss the brick aside, my shirt muffling the clap as it hits the concrete wall.

“Let’s change gears, hmmm?” I turn to make my way toward the table when I catch Nicky’s eyes glued to my side. It’s only then I realize my tattoo for J is on full display. His gaze rises to meet mine where I hold strong. There’s a lot of things I’ve done in this life I’m ashamed of. Anything related to my love for his sister will never be one of them. I will wear this shit proudly until my dying breath.

“So…” I peruse the instruments laid out on the table, settling on a pair of bolt cutters. “Nick, how many fingers did Daph break?”

“Three.” Nicky holds up the middle, ring, and pinky fingers on his right hand. “Right side.”

“Well, Tommy, you know the rules.”

Nicky joins me on Tommy’s right, dragging a step stool alongside him so I can hop up to reach his hands strung up above him. Tommy wiggles his fingers in an attempt to prevent me from locking them in, but he finds it difficult given the blood flow is practically nonexistent to his limbs at this angle. I’m easily able to secure his pinky within the confines of the steel. Eager to hear him sing my favorite song once again, I clamp the bars closed in my hands, snapping through the flesh and bone with ease. The blood curdling scream that follows is magical, and I relish in his torture as I snap off the other two just as quickly.

I jump down, ready to move onto something else. However, Nicky obviously feels his girl deserves all ten fingers because he seizes the bolt cutters from me and hops back up to finish the job.

“You said an eye for an eye!” Tommy shouts. “She’s only got three broken fingers!”

“Yeah?” Nicky briefly pauses his work to glance down at him. “Daph’s also got a concussion, but we only cracked you in the head for Jones. Call it even.” Tommy’s wails resume as Nicky goes back to snip off the last remaining digits. Nicky hops down once he’s finished, kicking the stool off to the side. “Rico! Bring me a knife. A sharp one. I’m not gonna listen to his ass talk back again.”

Rico swipes one of his choosing off the table before heading across the room to Nicky.

“Wait! Wait, Nick!” Tommy sobs like a bitch. “There’s something you need to know. Something you’re gonna wanna hear.” He sniffles. “I’ll tell you, just please don’t take my tongue.”

“How about you tell me, and I’ll decide if the information is worth you keeping your tongue.”

My eyes finally land on the instrument I’ve been searching for—a spoon that’s had the tip shaved into a point. This was a nifty little creation straight out of the mind of Bentley, one which serves a very specific purpose. I glance up at Finn and T, whose curious eyes are trained behind me. It’s only then I realize that it’s gotten very quiet in the last thirty seconds.