Page 15 of Wicked Revenge

“Remember, don’t let him get in your head. The more he talks, the greater chance he will slip up and give us something new to go on,” I remind my brothers as we climb out and start making our way into the warehouse.

This place is isolated and secluded from the rest of the town. Only the Kingsmen come here. The warehouse is an old factory shell that King bought and had gutted to house his inventory, drugs, and weapons. There are a couple of underground bunkers out in the woods nearby, but those have been off-limits to the boys and me since we came to live with King.

The bunkers are guarded around-the-clock by at least one guard, with video surveillance and motion sensors. We haven’t been able to get close enough to tell what the hell is going on there. I suspect some sort of human trafficking, but I haven’t been able to prove it yet.

As we make our way inside the heavy metal door, I see King standing with two of his trusted Kingsmen talking in hushed tones. One looks so panicked and on edge, I’m worried he might piss his pants where he stands. The other looks his usual cocky self. Fucking Jackson. When they spot us walking in, King raises his hand to silence them. Interesting.

“Sons,” King announces, an evil smile spreads across his face. He knows how much I loathe him. I hate when he calls me ‘son’. “Thank you for coming, we have a situation that requires your… expertise.”

I nod my head, barely containing the rage that boils beneath my skin. “And what situation might that be, sir?” I spit back at him, trying and failing to rein in my hatred for this man.

“Oh, you’ll see. Let’s wait until everyone is here, you know I hate to repeat myself,” he quips back calmly, his devilish smile never leaving his face as we make our way to the table that sits in the middle of the open room.

King sits at one end, I sit to his right, with Alek next to me. Maddox takes the seat on the other side of him. I hate this. I hate being forced to sit here at this table like his obedient “heir”.

More Kingsmen begin to arrive, all of them putting me on edge with their panicked looks and manic expressions. I make eye contact with Alek and he mouths, “What the fuck?”

King is still smiling sadistically when I look over at him. He isn’t looking at me though. He’s looking down at his hand, holding something, under the table. I can’t see what it is, but the bile is back and rising to my throat. Something doesn’t feel right.

“Well, let's get straight to the point gentleman,” King says, slapping down what was in his hand in front of me on the table, making me sit up and pay attention now. It’s a card. “We have ourselves a hunter in town.”

Picking up the card to examine it, the first thing I notice is the matte-black finish and a blood-red “X” embossed on one side. Flipping it over, it looks similar to a normal playing card. It's a king card, no suit or face, just solid matte black and red, like the front.

“What the fuck is this, King?” I ask, passing the card to Alek and Maddox to look at.

“That, son, is a hunter's calling card,” he says with malice in his tone. “Look around this table, do you notice anything off?”

I look at each member that sits around the table, and now that I’m paying more attention, I see three empty seats scattered throughout. This meeting was mandatory for all upper level Kingsmen, so where the fuck are they?

“Where are O’Connell, Jones, and Stevens?” I gesture to the empty chairs they usually occupy.

“Over the last couple of weeks, we've been targeted by a hunter. We found their bodies, along with cards like the one you’re looking at. They are killing off my men one by one. Stevens was first, then Jones. By the time we found O’Connell last night, another card had been delivered to another member. Jackson found it lying on his bed when he got home,” he explains as he lays down photographs of each member in front of me as he says their names.

Their bodies have been mutilated– their throats slit clean across. But that’s not all. Their dicks have been severed and stuffed into their mouths.

“So they mark their kill before actually killing them. How long between the first card and their death?” Alek asks, laying the card back down in front of me.

“A few days,” King responds, looking back at the card with a puzzled look. “That’s where you come in. I want you to track this hunter and bring them to me. Do not kill them. They are mine. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, Sir,” we spit in unison, the hatred seeping into our tones, and it doesn’t go unnoticed.

“You know what’s at stake boys. Do not fuck this up. Find me the hunter and deliver them to me before they kill again. I won’t tolerate anything else.” The look in his eyes tells me exactly what’s at stake if we don’t deliver on this.

Fuck.

“We’ll get it done.” He walks behind me and squeezes my shoulders roughly. It takes everything inside of me to keep myself seated. “Sir,” I grit through clenched teeth.

“See that you do, son.” He leans down to whisper in my ear so no one else hears. “I’d hate to see something bad happen to little Emma if you disappoint me again.” Straightening his suit jacket and buttoning it up as he stands, he adds, “I want you all to be on guard, watch your backs. You’re dismissed.”

As everyone pushes their chairs back and begins filing out of the room, I grab Jackson by his arm, keeping him from leaving.. I really can’t stand this slimy bastard.

“If we are going to find the hunter, the obvious answer is to follow their mark. Go on about your day as usual. We’ll be watching. Do not fucking contact us, do not look for us. We don’t want to tip the hunter off. Got it?”

“Got it, son.” Jackson spits as he jerks his arm from my grasp, jealousy dripping off his tongue before he heads out the door.

It’s not news to me that the other Kingsmen hate us. They all want King’s attention so badly, and they hate that he chose an heir outside of the organization instead of recruiting from within. He storms out of the warehouse, the door vibrating off the metal wall when he slings it open.

“You’d think he’d be a little more grateful that we have to save his ass. I vote we let the hunter take him out, one less for us,” Maddox mutters as we make our way back to the SUV.

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