Page 12 of Xander
It was a few days later that I entered the clubhouse after getting a call from Nuke.
I walked by the club girls and ignored their eyes.
Then I made my way over to Nuke.
He lifted his chin, “Grimm is out. Kettle is out. Saint is out. I need your brand of expertise.”
I nodded.
Then I followed him out of the clubhouse and to the shed in the back.
Then waited as he lifted the trap door and followed him down the set of steps.
Once we reached the bottom, my boots landed on the cement floor.
My eyes immediately zeroed in on the drain in the center of the floor.
Then I looked up at the man who was hanging by his wrist.
I took off my kutte, placed it on the metal table to my left, and rolled up my sleeves.
Then I moved to the cabinet in the corner and selected my tools.
A hammer.
A knife.
A wrench.
An impact.
And a blow torch.
“Don’t you want to know what he did?” Nuke asked.
I eyed the man who was hanging there and ignored his silent pleas for help, which I could read in his eyes.
A rag or something was shoved in his mouth so he couldn’t speak.
Then I looked at Nuke.
“Not particularly,” I said.
Nuke grinned, “Welp. I’m going to tell you anyway. See, this motherfucker thought it wouldn’t get around that he impregnated a sedated girl in the mental ward at the hospital.”
At his words, I felt it.
That all too familiar tingle, trailing through my blood.
I nodded.
Then I moved to the man, reached up, and pulled the rag from his mouth.
I smirked, “I want to hear you scream. Gets my dick hard.”
Then I lit the torch and proceeded to set his pants on fire.
He was screaming then.
