Page 104 of The Ghost of Rage's War

Drake watched as Fury tried to figure out who Irish was. Shit. Had Fury done that so many times he couldn’t remember it? Drake could see Irish coming to the same realisation. It appeared to be Fury’s thing to pull trains on victims.

“Let me remind you what you did to Grandad. He’d been battered, cut up, tied to a chair, and his eyelids glued open. You wanted him to suffer as your motherfucking scumbags raped, tortured, and abused my mom.”

Irish drew in a deep breath before putting a hand in her pocket and pulling out a small tube.

“Irish,” Fury hissed and laughed. “You’re the granddaughter.”

“Yes.”

“I’d have loved to have done you,” Fury sneered.

“You missed your chance. But I haven’t. Grunt,” Irish said.

Grunt moved forward and shoved Fury down over a table. Fury began to fight, but Grunt tied his arms to the legs and then ripped his clothes off. Irish reached into a duffle bag she’d carried in.

Drake took one look at what she was carrying and winced. Fuck! On the other hand, Washington lookedimpressed.

“Glove up,” Irish ordered.

Grunt grinned as he pulled some medical gloves on. Drake noted Ramirez, Nando, Ben, and Lucas seemed confused. They wouldn’t be for much longer.

“Did you lubricate my mom and his family when you raped their asses?” Irish demanded.

“Oh, fuck,” Ben gasped, catching on to what Irish planned. He paled under his tan.

Drake grabbed Ben’s shoulders and spun him around. “Listen to me. No shame walking away right now. This is going to get bad. There’s a lot of anger and hurt, and you don’t need to be a part of this.”

“I owe Goldberg and Horton this. Plus, all my dead and wounded colleagues. What that fucker has done can twist a man. I ain’t leaving,” Ben said and squared his shoulders.

They turned back as Fury lit the air up with curses.

Irish paid no attention.

Drake winced. Fury’s saggy old ass wasn’t attractive. Grunt didn’t care as he spread Fury’s cheeks, and Irish shoved the cattle prod straight up his asshole. Fury screamed long and loud before passing out.

“Fuckin’ really?” Spike hissed. “Wake him up!”

Volcano headed to a sink and filled a bucket of water and threw it over him. Fury came awake and began shrieking as Irish pulled the cattle prod out and shoved it back inside. She fucked him for about three minutes before suddenly turning it on. Fury shuddered and screamed again before blacking out.

“Holy fuck,” Nando winced.

Drake thought all the men present just clenched their asses.

“Wake him up,” Irish demanded, and Volcano repeated his actions. And Irish repeated hers. A few minutes later, she left the prod hanging from his ass and moved to the front of the table. Irish snatched Fury’s head up and looked into his face.

“Now you understand a little of what your victims suffered. When these fuckers have finished, you’re mine again. They’re gonna beat and hurt you, but they won’t kill you. Because, cunt, I’ve got something nasty planned,” Irish promised.

“Worse than that?” Ramirez asked.

“Yeah.”

“Good,” Ramirez grabbed a whip and lashed out. Fury’s back jolted as the prod remained up his ass. Ramirez hit him a few more times and stopped. “He’s old. I wanna keep going, but don’t want to kill him with a heart attack.”

“Fair enough. Untie him,” Nando said.

Drake watched as Fury was strung up. The cops beat him for a bit and then stepped back. Drake informed them they could leave, but they wanted to stay. They’d taken their revenge but had to see this through.

Drake was worried that Volcano might kill Fury. While Volcano hit him hard, Volcano ensured to do so in places that wouldn’t kill him. Spike and Carter did the same. But Carter went one step further. He made Spike place Fury’s legs up on a chair, and thenhe whipped Fury’s feet until they resembled hamburger meat.

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