Page 48 of Revenge

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Asher

I watch my brothers string up Mateo like he’s a piñata. Before the night is through, he’ll be spilling something sweeter than candy—his blood. When we found him, he was still in the parking lot of Viper’s Den. He never even made it past his car before we were on him and had him hog-tied and knocked out in the back of the van. Lucky for us, he’s stayed out the entire thirty-minute drive to the farm.

“How much does this fucker weigh?” Axel grunts as he and Zane tie him to the post.

“Quit whining like a little bitch and hold him up.” Zane smacks him upside the head and continues winding the rope around Mateo’s body.

“Whatever, man.” Axel kneels down to gain a better hold, but his feet slip against the mud, causing Mateo to fall forward.

“Hold him up,” Zane growls.

“Easy for you to say. You’re not the one with a face full of dick.” Axel grunts and pushes Mateo back up. “Good thing it’s small.”

Zane shoots me a look, asking for patience, and I shrug. My lips twitch, but I fight the urge to smile. I’ve missed my brothers. Even if circumstances have changed between us, things are still the same in many ways.

Axel pours a bucket of cold water on the prick’s face. “Wakey, wakey!”

Mateo comes to and struggles against the wooden post.

I watch him for a few beats before I make myself known, stepping out of the shadows into his line of sight. “You ain’t going anywhere.” Zane made sure of that.

Mateo’s head twists in the direction of my voice. It takes a second for him to register what he’s seeing, but when he does, his face hardens. “I should have known it was you. You always did hit like a pussy.” A small breeze blows past, causing him to shiver.

“Cold?” Axel laughs and leans against the wooden railing of the fence.

Mateo looks down. “Where the fuck are my clothes?” His black eyes glare at me.

“You won’t need them where you’re going.” Zane’s right. This piece of shit won’t need a fucking thing where I’m sending him.

Pigs squeal from the pen next to us, drawing Mateo’s attention. “Ain’t that fitting?” His gaze swings back to me. “I’m surrounded by pigs.”

“They haven’t eaten in a couple of days, so they’re nice and hungry,” Zane taunts.

I enjoy the brief flicker of fear in Mateo’s eyes before I speak. “Give me a name, Mateo.” My patience is running thin. I don’t want to stay out here freezing my balls off all fucking night. After all, I still have a foul-mouthed little vixen to punish.

“Fuck you,hijo de puta.” The asshole spits at my feet.

“You ain’t very smart, are ya?” Axel laughs from behind me.

Annoyed, I pull out my knife and press the tip against his neck with one hand while the other squeezes his cheeks. “Let’s try this again. Give me a name or I’m going to gut you and strangle you with your own intestines.”

Mateo grunts from the pressure, but he isn’t done fighting yet. “You’re so fucking dumb you can’t even see what’s right in front of you—what’s been right in front of your face this whole fucking time.”

“Why don’t you explain it to me then?” My fingers increase their pressure, digging deeper into the sides of his face, warning him that I’m not fucking around. When he still doesn’t give me what I want, I punch him in the face until I can hear his bones cracking underneath my knuckles with each blow. I raise my fist ready to strike again when a pair of hands grab me from behind.

“Enough, Ash. He can’t talk if he’s dead.” Zane squeezes my shoulder before releasing his grip and handing me my knife from the ground. He walks around to stand behind Mateo, waiting. Axel mirrors his movement. Without words, my brothers are letting me know they have my back.

My body is racing with adrenaline and itching for more, but Zane’s words sink in. I suck in a few deep gulps of air to steady my breathing and glare at Mateo. Blood seeps out of his mouth and drips down his chin. One of his eyes is starting to swell shut and I feel a sense of peace wash over me at the sight of every wound I’ve inflicted, but his suffering has only just begun.

I trail the knife down the bridge of his nose, down his neck, stopping at his chest. With a bit of pressure, I push the tip in until a trickle of blood seeps out. “Spill your guts or I will.”

“Fuck you,pendejo.” Mateo grunts, but never releases my gaze. “I’m dead either way.”

“Tell me what I want to know.”

“Go to Hell,” he spits back.

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