Page 85 of The Butcher

Neither of them are moving a whole lot, both groaning and grunting a little, and since it’s, once again, two on one, I need to take advantage of their stupidity.

I move between them quickly, grabbing the wrists of the moron on the left, the one who’s moving a little more, then wrench his arms back until his shoulder blades are touching. I drop down so my knee is digging into his hands, the pressurelocking his arms and keeping him in place while I reach for the other idiot, grab him by the hair, then pat down his pockets.

Bingo.

Zip ties.

His wrists are cuffed quickly and I grab a few more to get his buddy tied up tight. Then attach them both at the ankles, and get to my feet.

Parking my hands on my hips, I give them each a good kick, hard enough to flip them over, and once I can see their pissed off faces, I tilt my head to the side and ask, “Where are my grandparents? Why the fuck are you in their house?”

One dumbass just spits at me while the other grunts, “Go to hell.”

“I’m going to ask one more time.” I crouch down between them, checking the pockets of their hoodies and tactical pants only to find them both packing a small arsenal, and not sporting any ID. “Where the hell are my grandparents, and why the fuck are you in their house?”

“Suck my dick,” the mouthy one says, those words the key to making my day one thousand times better than it was before. “We don’t answer to anyone but Hall.”

“Is that so?” I smile as I start twirling the extra zip ties between my thumb and forefinger. “And would this, Hall, be a real person, or some stupid name you’ve given to your god?”

The spitter gears up to do it again but my free hand shoots out, quickly grabbing his jaw and squeezing until he can’t move it.

“Is this, Hall, close by? He in the house, too?”

He just narrows his eyes and holds my stare, refusing to answer my questions, and proving he really is a dumb fuck.

So, I hang onto his face and shift my attention toward his mouthy friend who’s suddenly quiet. “He here somewhere?”

“Fuck off.”

“I’ll take that as a no.” A slow smile spreads across my face, one they can’t see but it’s there all the same. “You know, I was just thinking about how I really needed to kill someone, then low and behold, you dipshits decided to come all the way out here and fuck around. Guess that means there’s nothing left to do but find out.”

Yankingthe pitchfork free from the bearing wall, I grab the makeshift gag—part of an old towel Nan used to clean up an abscess on her twenty year old mare—and pull it out of Nicolas’s mouth.

He gags, his body trying to double over despite his position.

Nicolas’s arms are above his head, the zip tie around his wrists stapled to the wood, legs spread, toes pointed toward opposite corners of the wall. And held in place by several nails delivered by the nail gun hanging from my tool belt. Nails that I shot into his feet and ankles until his legs stopped dangling.

Turns out, they did have ID, I just never would have found it if I hadn’t brought them out to the small barn and stripped them down to their racket and balls.

Which is exactly where they were hiding their licenses.

“You gonna tell me about Hall now, you sorry excuse for a cum dumpster?” I quickly sidestep the beta as he heaves a couple times then vomits all over the front of himself. “Not feeling so hot, are we?”

I pat his cheek but he jerks his head away and swallows hard. “Go to?—“

“Hell. I know. You should try for something less predictable next time.” He starts to panic as I shove the pus covered rag back between his lips, wiggling it around until his mouth dropsopen. I push the dirty linen toward the back of his throat, his jaw popping once I feel that cute little dangly ball at the opening. “You just have to use your imagination.”

Turning away from him, I make my way toward the opposite bearing wall, giving Adam a hard shove as I walk past, then stop a few feet shy. I lift the pitchfork like a spear, raising it above my shoulder, ignoring the way it screams as I wind up.

“Last chance, gentlemen,” I say as my eyes shift between them. “Give me Hall, and we don’t have to level up to the next round.”

Neither of them says anything, not that they could, but they don’t even try.

I have to give them credit for their loyalty, no matter how misplaced it may be.

“Fine.” I line up my shot, squinting one eye like I’m really fucking trying, then send the pitchfork sailing through the air.

It barely nicks Adam as it whizzes past him, drawing a thin strip of blood along his side as it’s slightly thrown off course, but when it connects with its target, my god, I couldn’t have planned it better if I tried.

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