Page 24 of Property of Rio

“So, what was it you were saying about wiping out our chapter?” Gopher asks. “Because we got his sister back, he gave zero fucks about his druggie mother, and he died protectingourpresident. Seems he was loyal in the end after all.”

“Let’s get this party started, some of us have to work,” BamBam exclaims, walking over to where the branding iron has been heating up. Donning a pair of heavy-duty welding gloves, he carefully pulls it out of the forge, and then without any hesitation, he slams it into the meat of Four’s thigh, eliciting a scream that would shatter glass if we had any down here.

“Nice,” Gopher supplies, using the cattle prod on the bottom of Four’s feet. When Four starts swinging through the air, a neurotic chuckle escapes several of us at his attempt to get away. “Look at him dancing, Brothers!”

I swear I’m surrounded by a bunch of frat boys sometimes, but at the end of the day, they get shit done. Gopher and BamBam alternate hitting Four with the cattle prod and the branding iron and soon the smell of burnt flesh has us all reaching for the tiny sticks of VapoRub we carry when we’re in hereinterrogatingenemies.

“Where do y’all keep the girls you snatch?” Riptide suddenly asks, moving from his lounged position against the wall where he’d been hiding in the shadows and steps forward to where Four can see him.

I nod at my cousin because this is good intel that we can possibly pass on to the chapters who are closer to where these scum hole up.

“What girls?’ Four fires back. Hmm, he’s still a little feisty right now for someone who’s covered in brands and the small burn marks the cattle prod leaves behind.

“The girls y’all abduct to sell, motherfucker,” Riptide barks out. “We know y’all never planned to give Gage’s sister back. She was doomed to be put on the black market.”

Four shrugs, pretending to be nonchalant about the matter. Well, it’s more like a minimal movement, but I see his shoulders clench slightly. “Above my pay grade,” he retorts.

“Yeah, hardly likely,” Pokey comments from his camped position at the table where his ever-present laptop is opened up. “From what I’ve been able to unearth, you might have officers like the majority of clubs have, but every one of y’all have input into what you’re doing.”

“Y’know, you’re not making it easier on yourself at all,” I state, leering at my enemy. “I mean, it’s not like you were ever leaving here alive, but we have the means and ability to drag this out for quite some time.”

Thanks to Doc, that is, because we’ve gotten medical equipment that we’ve been known to use to resuscitate those who try to die before we’re ready for them to meet their maker, along with IVs and other items to stave off shock, bleeding out, and infection if we’re keeping the prisoner on ice, so to speak, for an extended period of time.

“Can I slice and dice?” Chick suddenly asks, speaking up for the first time. “Not really feeling the fact that he thought it was okay to fuck with the Kings.”

I casually wave my arm toward the table that holds various instruments to pick from. Chick walks over and makes a huge production out of picking up then putting down several of the knives before he chooses a KA-BAR knife and approaches Four, who has grown increasingly pale.

“Damn, Brother, what’s that saying? Go big or go home?” Preacher questions, snickering. “Just be careful about where you slice because we still have a few pieces we wanna take off. Weight loss, courtesy of the Kings!”

I shake my head. It’s been quite some time since we’ve had anyone down here and apparently, my brothers are having a blast mentally torturing Four. “Carry on, Chick. Doc’s right here and can stitch him back together in case you cut too deep.”

“Don’t forget, it’s like slicing through butter,” Doc cautions. “They’re designed to do maximum damage with minimal work. It’s why the military uses them.”

“So, no slicing across his throat,” Chick muses while snickering. He’s a bit twisted, but loyal as they come. He and I prospected at the same time, so he’s also a bit protective of Issy.

Fuck, who am I kidding? The whole damn lot of them would put themselves in front of a bullet for her.

“Yeah, let’s not do that since I’m sure BamBam called dibs on the emasculator!” I holler out.

“Absofuckinlutely,” BamBam rumbles. “Fucking pervert needs to lose his balls.”

“I’m taking off the dick,” Gopher apprises us. “That’s three parts if we count each ball as one, or two if we think of them as a pair. What’s y’all’s thoughts?”

Long-tailed cats in a room full of rocking chairs, I swear to Christ. After listening to them banter back and forth, I hold up my hand and bellow, “Enough! Balls, dick, head, and back patch sliced off. That’s four items and it’ll ensure they know who the fuck they’re getting back.”

“Nice touch, Prez,” BamBam advises. “Do we have a way to package it, so it stays relatively fresh? If his flesh mummifies, they may not recognize whose pieces it is we’re sending them.”

“We can use dry ice,” Doc states. “Already have some on hand. Problem is, we can’t ship it because that could cause issues for us.”

Riptide snorts and then says, “Eh, I’m already taking Gage back to East Texas, along with what’s left of this fucker. Have no problems making a side trip and dropping the package off. I can pull one of the trailers since we need one for the next transport as it is. Two birds, one stone.”

“Then that’s the plan. Let’s get this wrapped up. The air has grown foul, and I honestly can’t stand the stench of this bastard any longer,” I direct. He’s not leaving right away since he, Issy, and I are going to do our own version of a memorial service in honor of our friendship with Gage.

FOURTEEN

Isla

“You be careful,” Rafe says as I settle into Starlight’s saddle. “I get why you wanna go there so we can honor Gage, but I’m still not sure you should be riding just yet.”

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