Page 92 of Property of Spike

And he does. Over and over again until his voice is nothing more than a wet, broken rasp.

By the time we step back, Chuck is barely breathing, his body trembling violently as blood seeps from every wound we’ve given him. His eyes are glazed, his lips cracked, and I know he won’t last much longer.

Bones holds a layer of skin up to the light, inspecting it for whatever the fuck he’s looking for. I shake my head at the sick fucker.

Crouching beside Chuck, gripping his chin between my fingers, forcing him to look at me one last time. “This is where I leave you,” I say, my voice cold, merciless. “Bleeding out like the worthless piece of shit you are.”

His head lolls forward, his breath coming in ragged, uneven gasps. He won’t make it another hour. But it’ll be an hour of pure agony.

“Make sure he stays awake until his last breath,” I say, stepping over the growing pool of blood and heading for the stairs. “I want him to feel every second of pain until the devil drags him home.”

Bones clicks his tongue, shaking his head. “Damn shame we ran out of ice water,” he mutters. He picks up a blowtorch from the table, the flame hissing to life. “Guess this will do just fine. Ever been torched on the heel of your foot, Commissioner? Hurts like a bitch.”

Chuck flinches, but he’s too weak to fight, too far gone to beg.

Knuckles grins, crouching beside him. “Too bad you won’t last long,” he muses. “I think you would’ve loved to hear how Bones got his road name. I mean, you’ve experienced some of it this evening, but not everything. Actually…”

I don’t stick around to listen. My men will handle the rest.

I step outside, inhaling the cool night air, letting it cleanse me before I head inside the clubhouse to shower and wash away the blood, sweat, and the last remnants of that sick bastard before I go home to my wife.

My wife who is finally fucking safe.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Riley

“You really don’t want a ceremony?” Abby asks for the third time. “I know your marriage is legal and everything, but you don’t want to walk down the aisle to your future?”

“I already wake up to my future every morning,” I smile at my best friend. “I don’t need a ceremony to cement that. However, we could still have a party.”

My ribs healed, and the bruises faded. But my back did scar. Spike’s name is as clear as day from the top of my back to the bottom. Patch says that the cream he gave me should help in the long run. I know that it’s my husband’s name, but knowing how it got there has done some major psychological damage to me.

I’ve been working through the damage with a therapist. Abby insisted on it. She swears by them and says going to one helped her heal from her past. I couldn’t say no, and I’m glad I didn’t. It’s been several months, and I can already feel myself healing.

“I think a party sounds like a grand idea,” Skip says from the floor, where he’s surrounded by puzzle pieces. “I’ll take care of everything. Spread the word. This Friday, we’re having a party to celebrate our newest Shadows.”

Before I can respond, the door swings open, and in walks my husband, carrying a gift bag in one hand and Asher in the other.

“First of all,” Spike says, setting the bag on the table, “Skip, you run everything by Riley when it comes to any party.”

Skip scoffs, waving him off. “She already gave me full control. Right, Riley?”

I nod. “Yes. But…” I add, seeing Spike’s raised brow, “I do want to send a personal invitation to Patch.”

Skip snorts. “Good luck getting him out of his cave.”

“I’ll handle it,” Spike says. “Now, more importantly, Asher and I got you something.”

Asher, oblivious to the moment, gurgles happily, chewing on his tiny fist as Spike hands me the gift bag.

Curious, I pull open the bag, my breath hitching when I see what’s inside. It’s a leather vest, almost identical to the ones everyone around here wears, except it looks softer. More feminine. I hold it up, the scent of leather filling my nose as I turn it around. On the back, in bold lettering, are the words: PROPERTY OF SPIKE.

Tears spring to my eyes, emotions hitting me all at once. “I…this is…” I swallow hard, unable to form words.

“She’s crying!” Skip announces unhelpfully. “I knew she’d love it!”

Abby grins. “You officially broke her, Bubby.”

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