Page 62 of Patching Over

“Yep, death house. People go there to die, Rayleigh.”

“Well, you’re not in danger of that any time soon, I hope,” I retort, placing a steaming bowl of soup in front of him, along with two thick slices of baked bread, before I grab my own. “Now, let’s eat and you can tell me some stories of how Brick was when he was growing up in case I need ammunition against him.”

CHAPTER

TEN

Brick

Watching Murder’s guys at work interrogating the four douches is like watching poetry in motion, that’s for sure. While me and my brothers will end them before Grim, Rael, and Shadow reap their rotting souls, I figured Murder needed first shot simply because they decided to fuck with his distribution routes.

“Thinking he’s not got much more to say,” I helpfully state, looking at the fucker formerly known as Clock, his yellow stained teeth now laying haphazardly around his feet as blood pours from his mouth. Not only that, but his tongue is half its size, Static getting pissed and slicing through it when Clock made the mistake of sticking it out, much like a child does when they’re having a temper tantrum.

“Very true, the good news is, they’re so fucking inept, they don’t appear to have a lot of customers yet, so we can just tweak our route slightly and be back in business,” Murder concurs, standing shoulder to shoulder with me.

“Well, you know if you ever need our help going through this area, you just have to ask, brother,” I tell him. “We’re workingwith Scorn now with regard to some new gun runs and shit so it’s definitely not a hardship for us to assist.”

“Will keep it in mind. Think your ol’ lady will be up to coming up for the wedding in a few weeks? Y’all are close enough so even with the snow, it shouldn’t be too bad of a trip,” he asks. “If the fucker would’ve waited until Spring, we coulda had more of a showing of Bastards, but no, his ol’ lady wanted a holiday themed wedding, so it’s been a challenge to get enough guests.”

“Can always throw a party when it warms up, too, brother,” I suggest. “I mean, we’re all always up for a fucking party and road trip.”

“True, true.”

“Regardless, yeah, see no reason why we can’t come on up. Need to start introducing her to others especially those with ol’ ladies so she has someone to reach out to.”

There’s something to be said about being in charge simply because all four of us presidents are leaning against the wall as we watch our brothers work all four men over.

I know all four douches have pissed and shit themselves through the interrogation more than once because the stench is horrific and foul. But if I saw a man completely change into something else like Shadow and Rael did, I expect my bowels would explode as well.

“Ban, you sure each of the ones who touched my ol’ lady has been dealt with yet?” I ask, amusement coating my tone. In addition to teeth, fingers now litter the floor since Banshee decided to amputate the digits of everyone who made the mistake of touching his little sister.

“Yeah, brother, they have. Too bad we’re not cannibals because we could have deep fried fingers,” he retorts, causing the four men to gag as we all cheerfully laugh.

“Y’know, she seems to have gotten in some good hits herself,” Murder muses, looking over all four of the dead douches. “Whoever’s been teaching her to protect herself did a good job.”

“Brew and Phantom took it on themselves to give her some basic self-defense lessons since she was living on her own just in case she ever ran into a problem. She needs to know more, though,” Banshee huffs out, kicking Clock in the ribs and knocking him sideways onto the floor. “Next!” he calls out, waving his hand to the other brothers waiting for their turn.

By the time everyone who wanted to get a few hits in does so, all four men are clinging to life by the skin of their well… gums, I guess, since none have teeth left.

As I watch Grim, Rael, and Shadow all completely morph into their Reapers, complete with the ghostly scythes which will take the souls to Hell, I barely hold back my shudder. As one, the three men make a slicing motion across their own throats and the four douches’ eyes widen when theirs split wide, spilling their lifeforce onto the floor.

Their black souls now begin to float transparently upward, only for the three Reapers to strike out with their scythes, slicing through them and causing the most hair-raising screams to echo around the room until a section of the floor opens. Heat transfers into the room from the flicking flames as the four bodies slip into the crevasse before the floor once again turns whole. There’s nothing left as a reminder, not one tooth or finger, which makes cleanup a helluva lot easier.

“Y’all make cleaning up a breeze, brother,” Banshee says once Grim has regained his normal visage.

“Right? One of the better things about this whole gig,” Rael enthuses, his Reaper still present as he chuckles maniacally.

“You’re a nutjob, brother,” Shadow snarks.

“And you’re not?” Rael returns. “Face it, we’re all Bastards so it’s not like we’ve got a straight shot into the Pearly Gates,brothers. But we can protect those out there who are pure and good, like our ol’ ladies and Rayleigh. If that means I’m Lucifer’s bitch, so be it. I’m good with my choice.”

“Glad we’ve got you on our side, brothers,” I advise all of them. “In all honesty, I think Jameson has done one helluva job building the Bastards into what they’ve become. We have brothers virtually everywhere and while we’ll likely build closer relationships to those who are nearby, the fact we can pick up the phone and put the word out and have thousands of brothers at our back in a time of need is fucking phenomenal.”

“Agreed. Now, let’s all get cleaned up and see what your ol’ lady has put together for us to eat, brother,” Banshee says.

“Then since we’ve slayed, we can sleigh, right?” Rael asks, laughing when Grim and Shadow smack him. “What? It’s snowed outside so they’ve got sleighs, right? You guys get it, don’t you?” he questions, looking at me and Banshee.

I shrug because at this point, nothing that comes out of any of their mouths surprises me.

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