Page 101 of Truths

Standing, Dax reaches up to grab the rope they hung before everyone showed up, and he slips the noose around Ryan's head. Psycho helps him lift Ryan by his arms and sets him on a chair, his face bleeding and swelling.

Psycho grabs the other end of the rope and holds it to keep it tight, the man standing upright and spitting blood and what few teeth he had left on the ground.

“What are you going to do? Hang me?”

“That's up to you,” Dax says, his chest heaving.

He laughs. “At some point, you're going to have to explain a lot to a shit ton of people. Like to the owners of this shithole. They probably want to know why the windows are all boarded up with blood everywhere.”

“Nah, that won't be a problem,” Psycho says and pulls his gun from his holster. Cocking it, he hands it to Dax. “For you.”

“Thanks,” he says and aims it towards the hanging man.

The barrel moves from his head to his groin, and a sadistic smile spreads across Dax's face. He pulls the trigger, and the highest pitch scream Psycho's ever heard comes from Ryan, his hands cupping where his dick should be as blood gushes.

“You just shot my dick off!”

“It's not like you need it anyway. Have you even gotten a chance to use it on a woman in the past twenty years? You come across as the catcher, not the pitcher, so I doubt it saw anything more than your fist beating it off in the slammer.”

Ryan continues to try and stop the bleeding while also checking to make sure it's still somewhat attached, but he can't look to see with the rope around his neck. His face pales as he looks with wide eyes. “Jesus fucking Christ, it's gone!”

“From what Dani says, there really wasn't much there to begin with. It's a good thing I'm a damn good shot. With that size, there was a solid chance I'd miss it without being closer than I care to be,” Dax says.

“You'd need a .50 caliber or at least three shots to take mine off,” Psycho says. “Maybe four. Unlike Ryan here, I have girth.”

“You fucking shot my dick off! I think we're fucking even now. Let me down before I lose too much blood.”

Sticking his bottom lip out in a mock pout, Dax looks at him. “Oh, that's cute. He doesn't think he's dying today.”

“What?”

“This is going to be a great story to tell everyone. Death by loss of dick. Most people forget how easy it is to bleed out from wounds down there. Arteries, I think. Or maybe they're veins. I'm not a fucking doctor, but it sounds like a terrible way to die,” Psycho says.

“How are you planning to explain this to the owner?” Dax asks him. “Huh?”

Looking around, Psycho finds a mirror and walks up to it. “Hey, guy, I hope you don't mind, but we had to kill a dude in here. That cool? Oh, yeah, totally fine. We gotta remodel anyway. We'll explain the blood as a poor attempt at a DIY. Sounds good.”

“You're kidding,” Dax says. “You bought this place?”

“Bought it yesterday. Club has a restaurant now. Thought a diner would fit with our trucking company. Now, if you get a bar, we'll be all set.”

“Carson,” Ryan gasps. “I'm starting to fade here, man. You're really going to let me die here? We're family.”

He rolls his eyes. “First of all, you're a cousin from my father's side. We both know the only way I'd even consider letting you live is if you were from blood related to my mom. Second, you tried to kill Lacey. Fuck you.”

“Wait, you're actually related to him?” Dax asks, his eyes wide. “Not just a brothers from the same club kind of thing?”

“No, we're blood cousins. Seems he didn't inherit the big cock from Dad's side, though. Serves him right.” He walks up to Ryan and looks into his eyes. “And the name's Psycho. There's only one person who's allowed to call me Carson. Well, maybe two now that Dani's in our club, but you ain't either of them.”

Ryan opens his mouth to speak, but he falls limp instead, his head hanging from the noose, his knees bending forward.

“He seemed so tough when we first walked in here. But it's hard to fake being tough that long.”

“Should we put him out of his misery?” Dax asks.

“Up to you. I'm cool letting him hang out and bleed to death like a fucking deer. I got nowhere else I need to be right now.”

They take a seat, Psycho still holding the rope, and they make small talk while the rest of the men from Diego's crew grab the alcohol they brought and start drinking.

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