Page 106 of Pope's Penance

“Don’t think anything is broken.Just fucking sore.I’ll let Giblet check me out before I make the final decision.”

“What about his bike?”

I glance over at Malice and grin.“Burn it and the fucking kutte.”

Pretty Boy holds up the kutte with one finger as if he’ll catch something just from touching it.As evil as this motherfucker is, he probably would.“He’s the fucking president of those Demented Demons fuckers?”

“Not anymore.I doubt he has many men left after the ones you all took out tonight.We never found much information on them, so they haven’t existed long.”

Giblet cleans up my face, applying a few butterfly bandages to the cuts over my nose and eyebrow.“How do your ribs and shit feel?”

“Got me in the kidney a few times, but until I’m pissing blood, I’m good.”

He examines my hands, testing my reflexes and feeling around my knuckles.“Open and close your fists.”He nods.“They feel okay enough to hold on to the handlebars that long?”

“Been through worse shit, brother.I’m good.”

The ride home was rough as fuck.Gritted teeth and determination to end this shit for my family are the only things that kept me upright on my bike.I almost want to gut the fucker for causing me enough pain that I can’t even enjoy the ride.

When they pull Frankie from the back of the cage, he’s conscious and gazing around at everything with a creepy-as-fuck smile on his face.

“Take him to the butcher’s room and chain him up,” I order.“Remove all his clothes and put them in the barrel for the incinerator.”

There’s nothing more vulnerable than being chained up in enemy territory with your dick and balls hanging out.

Manic and Butcher carry a surprisingly docile Frankie inside the building as I lean back against the cage and close my eyes to catch a fucking breath.I wince when my deep breath causes a pull in my abdomen.Giblet said everything looked okay, but fuck, Frankie got some vicious hits in that I couldn’t block.

Pain means you’re alive.

It means you’re breathing.

“You okay, brother?”Cyanide asks, coming to stand beside me.

I run my fingers through my hair, grimacing at the gritty texture to it.“Fucking exhausted.I’m getting too goddamn old for this fighting bullshit.”

He chuckles.“You mean we’re not in high school anymore?”

“No, and thank fuck we’re not.I hated that damn place.”

Cyanide sobers.“You need to go home to your woman and kids.We can handle what needs to be done here.”

I shoot him a toothy smile.“Where’s the fun in that?That fucker hurt Birdie and was going to sell my daughter.I’m going to peel his flesh from his bones.Slowly.Then I’m going to make him eat it.”

Cyanide shudders with a grimace.“Nasty.”

Pulling the pink and purple hair tie from my wrist that Lovelyn put there, I pull my hair up.Then I roll my head along my shoulders, gritting my teeth at the way the cuts on my face throb.

“Find me some Tylenol, would you?”I ask as he falls in step with me.

Frankie hangs from the hook in the butcher bay.His dark hair falls into his face as his silver eyes watch me march to him.Tattoos line his body, a vortex of colorful shapes and designs that are meant to draw the eye, but only have meaning to the person wearing them.

Business by day, party by night, apparently.

“Cypher, dig into his business.Find out who gets it when he disappears.Birdie is married to him, so it should go to her unless he has something else in place.”

Frankie laughs.“It’s going to be so fun watching your face when you finally uncover everything.”

“You know what’s going to be fun?Peeling your flesh from your bones.I’m going to have a great time doing that.But since I want to draw this out as long as possible, we’ll save that for last.”Grabbing the filet knife from the weapon stash Butcher laid out, I carry it with me as I close the distance between me and Frankie.“This ink looks too pretty on you.Let’s see if I can’t fix it to match the ugly on your inside.”

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