Page 57 of Stand: Part One
I groaned in annoyance. “It seems neither he nor my brother are willing to die to end this stupid fucking feud,” I commented dispassionately.
Scott side-eyed me with a smirk, but we both knew the only one bound for an early death was Matt. If he were smart, he would maintain the illusion of being “dead” and disappear under a rock somewhere. But he wasn’t, so this would continue until I ended it.
And I had officially decided to end it. A new squad had already been directed to hunt Matt down and destroy what was left of this conflict.
Up until this point, I’d been holding back, impatiently waiting for Matt to realize he couldn’t win this. I’d even given him the opportunity of an olive branch that was fucking Kayla. But in all honesty, I knew that branch was ash before I’d even picked it up. If I were him, I wouldn’t trust me either. And now my efforts toward peace were over. The gloves were finally coming off, and blood would rain down on us all.
Scott sighed as he proceeded through the green light. “It doesn’t matter. Matt’s family will retaliate anyway.”
“Yeah, that’s why I’ll have to kill those fuckers too if Matt doesn’t back off. I can’t have them saving his life every time I put a bullet in his body.” I’ll have to do the same thing to Matt that I did to Jaden—isolate and eliminate.
“We’re starting to stretch our resources pretty thin. We may have to call in a favor if you still want a team to continue looking for Jaden’s family since we pulled that one to find Kayla.”
I couldn’t suppress my frustration at the truth of that. My hope was that finding Kayla would be significantly easier, which would then eventually lead me to Jaden’s family. Assuming Kayla was still by herself, she lacked the resources to keep herself undercover. She was bound to fuck up at some point, and that fuck up would lead me to the rest of the flock. I’d just have to continue my unbeatable streak of patience.
“I’ll think it over.”
Scott glanced over at me, tightening his grip on the wheel before turning his eyes back to the road. “What do you actually plan on doing with Jaden’s family once you finally have them? You’re sure they’re really worth the headache?” he commented, caution in his tone.
I paused as a fantasy of ripped limbs and bloodied bones formed in my head.
“As long as they refrain from causing me problems, they will live with Jaden and me, where I can keep them contained. Their futures will depend on their actions, as well as my wife’s.”
He cocked a brow. “And her ex?”
I felt my jaw clench as I thought about each little thing I would do to him. And it brought a smile to my face. “I’d give it three days. Maybe. We’ll see how long he lasts.”
“You mean how long you can hold out.” Scott chuckled, but all I could think about was dismembering the fucker piece by piece for the next decade.
“When I’m done, I’m going to rip his fucking skull out and display it on my desk as a paperweight.”
He snorted. “I’m sure Jaden will love that.”
“It will serve as a damn good reminder for her. One way or another, I will always get what I want.”
“Of course, you do,” Scott concurred. “I’m sure making her watch will cement that lesson in real good.”
I shook my head. “I’m not going to make her watch, actually.”
Scott cocked a brow as he glanced over at me. “No?”
“No. The threat of forcing her to watch the recordings of it will be far more beneficial in the long run.” I had a feeling Jaden would do just about anything to avoid having to watch even a millisecond of the numerous clips I planned to make.
Scott hummed in acknowledgment as he pulled into the motel parking lot. After he parked in front of the lobby, we exited the SUV while a second SUV pulled up behind us, five more of my men piling out and following us inside. A middle-aged woman with short brown hair and too much Botox greeted us at the front desk, her smile slowly fading as recognition triggered her sudden silence.
“Go get him,” I ordered, my tone less than enthusiastic.
She blanched but said nothing as she turned away from her post and disappeared down the hallway. Turning away, I observed the shabby state of the motel lobby that I owned. From the dingy windows to the yellow-stained vinyl walls, the atmosphere consisted of stale cigarette smoke and cheap perfume. The upkeep was less than ideal, but I didn’t care to micromanage a place that had been performing exceptionally well up until two weeks ago.
The hurried, uneven footsteps of a man who had too much to drink stumbled down the hallway and sputtered to a stop beside the front desk. His round cheeks were flushed, with yellow teeth peeking out from behind thin lips that hid under patchy blond facial hair. Bloodshot eyes tried to focus on the number of people in the lobby, only slightly improved when he pushed his greasy long hair back out of his face and behind his ears.
“Mr. Davis,” he practically gasped as he tried to center himself. “We weren’t expecting you.”
I looked him up and down, my mouth forming into a scowl at the state of his unruly appearance. “Naturally,” I replied, then turned toward the door. “Let’s take a walk, Ricky.”
“O-oh, I’m actually kind of in the m-middle of something right n-now,” he muttered sporadically. “Could we do this another time?”
I turned back around to level him with a glare that caused all the blood in his face to drain away.
