Page 54 of Smooth As Whiskey

We were like wraiths there to claim souls and gift them to the Reaper as we moved through the house on silent feet.

The moment we reached his study, I opened the door and smiled at him from where he sat behind a desk.

Sweat was visibly beading on his forehead.

“The authorities have been called. I don’t know who you all are, but you’ve come to the wrong house.” He said.

“Oh yeah?” I asked with a grin.

“Yes, whatever you came to do, I can assure you, you won’t get away with it.” He said, his hand clenched into a fist atop his desk.

I tilted my head to the side, “What would they think about you ordering your very own stepdaughter to be raped and then sat there and watched it happen?” I asked.

The fucker had the audacity to snap and say, “I don’t know what you're talking about, the little bitch obviously lied.”

The sound of a hammer clicking before a spot of crimson could be seen on the man’s white dress shirt, Rome said, “No one calls that woman a bitch.

“I’m only going to share two things with you about her. One, she stopped having nightmares a week after she came to the clubhouse because she realized that Gerard was nothing but a pussy, and I would be damned to allow him to breathe for a minute longer.”

Raymond Frederick Stanton, the fucking IV, gasped and paled, “That was you?”

I grinned, “I may not be the enforcer or the Icer for my club, but nobody hurts a woman like that and lives to talk about it.”

The man didn’t respond. Good.

Because I had one more thing to say before I killed him.

I moved forward, and as I did, more guns were produced and aimed at the bastard.

With my arm, I swept everything that was on his desk onto the floor.

And then I shared, “She’s good. She’s smiling. She’s happy. She’s my ol’ lady and soon to be my wife. And she’s a mother. A damn good mother. Just like her mother was.”

And with that, I said, “You’re the last person alive who’s seen my woman’s wonderful body. And you're about to be taking your final breaths.”

That was when the bastard started to grasp for straws.

We wouldn’t be having that.

“I’ll give you anything you want. Name your price,” he pleaded.

I smiled, “Your price is death.”

Then I stepped around him and hauled his body atop the desk.

Then I looked at Rome and Coal, “Hold him down for me?”

They moved in, Rome took his arms, and Coal took his legs.

Then I looked at Creature, “You got it?”

He nodded, then pulled something from his back pocket while I ripped the piece of shit’s shirt open.

Creature moved to the fireplace that was already lit and ready to be used, good man.

Once Creature had the item good and hot, he handed it to me.

I grinned, then took the branding iron and smiled down at the piece of shit.

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