Page 3 of Blade

I chuckled. Sweat trickled down my back, making me question my decision to move to Texas for the five-thousandth time. The heat in the summer was no joke, but this was one of the hottest summers on record for North Texas. Walking outside to catch a breeze didn’t help. The “breeze” was like a hairdryer on high blowing in your face.

Not that I would bother, because what was inside that rundown-looking structure was more important and worth every drop of sweat.

Though from the outside, the shack appeared to be an oversized shed, it was much more than that now. Since Raptor had bought the abandoned property from the RBMC four years ago, he had built a bunch of tiny homes on it for the members. The clubhouse had a few rooms that we had renovated for guests, but he wanted the members of our chapter to have the option to live onsite and have their own places.

We had essentially constructed another building within the older exterior. To an outside observer, it seemed to be an abandoned cabin or oversized shed. Inside, we had cinderblock walls and a concrete floor that sloped to a drain in the center. The entire inside was sealed to make hosing it down and bleaching it easier. There was still an existing well that provided water and suited our purposes.

The prospects would be on cleanup duty. Thank fuck, because he reeked of stale urine. I hated that smell.

“And though that in itself is repulsive, the fact that you were also luring young women in to be trafficked is unforgivable. Do you know the things they do to those women?”

His lips remained sealed. Whether it was because he sure as shit knew or because he didn’t was irrelevant. He did it not caring what happened to the women that he pretended to be in love with to get their guard down.

Piece of shit.

If I could, I would make his torture long and excruciating. I’d planned to do everything to him that had been done to the women he’d sacrificed for the almighty dollar. Unfortunately, I was on a tight schedule. Raptor approved me bringing this issue to the table, and the chapter voted on it. It had been allowed, but I didn’t have a lot of time, and any of my brothers that were helping did it voluntarily. This wasn’t a paid job. This was personal.

“I’ve been waiting for this day for three long years. Let’s play a game, shall we?” I lifted the blade, inspecting the edge before I ran it up my arm. The hairs on the ornate steel told me it was indeed sharp.

Satisfied, I grinned in a way that I knew was purely maniacal and stepped closer. “It’s going to be a guessing game.”

The once white T-shirt he wore was now grungy and stained with blood from where I busted his lip with my first punch. Oneeye was bloodshot to the point you could barely see his brown iris for the dark blood staining it. I’d been having fun with him for two days now. Slowly, I pressed the tip into his slightly protruding lower abdomen. Bright red began to stain the fabric as I pushed it harder.

He gritted his teeth and fought yelling. Despite the fact that he was trying to act like a badass, he was sure as shit feeling my handiwork.

“I love games. Don’t you? Especially guessing games. They’re so stimulating.”

Lifting the tip of the knife from his skin, I left it inside the T-shirt and lifted it. The blade slid through the dingy knit fabric like it was nothing. I intentionally nicked his chin when I reached the top and sliced through the neckband.

He grunted but remained silent. His defiant glare only fueled my need to inflict pain. The fabric fell open, and I cut the bottom open.

“I’m going to give you one letter at a time, and you’re going to guess the word. Kind of like Hangman.” Using my finger to his chest and giving him a little push so he swung again, I laughed. “Fitting, huh?”

His face was mottled red as he struggled to find purchase with his toes. With the full weight of his body dragging him down, his hands were practically purple in the handcuffs attached to the meathook at the end of the chain.

“First letter,” I whispered, then I proceeded to carve a capital E on his right pectoral. The second I began working, he screamed, and I grinned wider. The sight of the blood running down his chest was beautiful.

“Don’t look. That’s cheating,” I warned with an unhinged stare just to fuck with him a little more.

Sweat was running down his temples and dropping to his exposed chest. I watched as it mingled with the crimson trails.There was the sound of running water, and I looked down to see a small puddle beneath him.

“What’s the letter?”

“I don’t know,” he replied with a sneer.

“Think, Zeke,” I encouraged as I tapped his temple with the flat side of the knife. “Or do I need to go over the letter again?”

“No!” he shouted, then his brow furrowed, and he appeared to be thinking. “E.”

“Very good!” I replied with exaggerated enthusiasm. Gator chuckled softly from the corner of the room. “Okay, next letter.”

“Oh, come on,” Zeke whined. What had sheseenin this guy?

My smile immediately dropped, and I stepped closer, pressing the sharp tip into his chest enough that it broke the skin. “You don’t want to play with me anymore?” I asked with deadly calm before pushing it deeper until he hissed.

“There will be people looking for me. You think you’re bad? They will make your pathetic attempts at torture look like child’s play.” The corners of his mouth tipped up, and he peeled back his lips, showing teeth that were coated in blood.

I had to hand it to him—he was taking things better than I’d expected. He was a lot ballsier than I anticipated. That, or he was simply plain stupid. Eh, maybe both.

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