“You sure, Baz? ‘Cause it looks like it’s gonna be two for one.” I lower the bolt cutters to just after two of his knuckles.

“I swear, I was told to leave you alone. They’re not interested in finding Sandra. They know I didn’t treat her good.” He starts spilling his guts in an attempt to save his fingers, but little does he know, it’s too fucking late for him. I’m just biding my time.

“How did you get through the alarm?” I ask my second question.

He hesitates, “There was no alarm.”

He’s lying.

“Last chance, Baz.”

“There wasn’t.” He hesitates again, feeding me bullshit.

“Wrong answer.” Slowly but deliberately, I squeeze down. The sickening crunch of flesh, muscle and bones is the only thing I focus on, dulling the harsh shriek of his screams.

“FUCK! No! No! No!” His voice cracks in pain and I push a little harder. I continue to torture him, drawing out more pain, more blood, before crushing them entirely between the metal. The faint thud of his fingers dropping to the concrete ends his torment.

“You fucker!” He starts to rock his body back and forth, over and over again. I reach down, picking up his fingers and wave them in front of his face.

“Oh, shit. That was an accident.” His eyelids flutter three times before his eyes roll back in his head, and then he’s gone.

Out like a light.

“Pansy-ass passed out.” I stand, disappointed my fun is over. Dropping his fingers to his lap, I reach for a rag, wiping the bolt cutters clean.

“You have fucking issues, man. That’s some messed-up shit,” Jesse says, breaking the silence.

“Fucker pissed on your bed, marks me, and beats on his woman, probably in front of their kid. He’ll be lucky if I leave him with a finger to scratch his ass.” I place the bolt cutters back on the workbench as the rumble of a bike pulls into the yard.

Leaving the asshole passed out on the ground, I walk out to meet Nix.

“He get ya good?” He notices my arm first.

“Nah, graze.” I shrug it off.

“Who is he?” He kicks the stand down on his bike and removes his helmet.

“A fucking Warrior,” I fill him in, watching his eyes darken.

Yeah, a Warrior on our turf is serious shit.

“Bypassed the alarm, smashed his way in and ripped the clubhouse apart. Every room.”

“The fuck?” Nix moves away from his bike and toward the shed. “How did he manage to get past the alarm?”

“Didn’t get it out of him. Could have someone working for the security company. Who fucking knows.” We enter the shed, Nix moving toward Baz.

“Jesus, Beau. Tell me he’s alive.” He kicks at Baz’s feet looking for life. He doesn’t stir. Blood pools all around him, his fingers lying on his lap.

“For now.”

“He the only one?”

“That we know of. Cameras will let us know.”

“How much damage he do?”

I look to Jesse allowing him to answer.

“The place is fucked-up, boss. Every room trashed. The fucker even pissed on some beds.”

“Jesus Christ.” He draws a large breath through his nose and lets it out slowly. “I just would like one fuckin’ month where I don’t have to deal with this shit.” He spins and kicks at a crate, sending it flying across the shed.

“You think it’s an attack?” Jesse asks after Nix calms down a little.

“Nah, I believe him. He’s just gone AWOL. He was here on his own. T’s not fucking stupid.” If the Warriors wanted a war, ransacking our clubhouse would be the least of our worries.

“He’s right. This isn’t retaliation. It’s not T’s style anyway,” Nix agrees.

“Well, what do you wanna do with him?” I ask, happy to fuck with him some more.

“Find out how he made it past the security system then get him out of here. I don’t care where you take him, but send his fingers back to his club.” He starts to walk toward the door. “And then I want everyone down here. We’ll need all hands on deck to help clean,” he says before leaving us alone.

“How pissed do you think he’s gonna be when he finds out he pissed in his bed too?” Jesse asks, a hint of humor in his question.

“I should probably get Baz out of here before he finds out. You think I’m twisted? You wouldn’t want to know what Nix would do.” I look back at the asshole still out cold.

“Well, I can’t say this has been fun. Remind me never to fuck with you.” Jesse stands and heads for the door.

“What? You’re not staying for the second act? You wound me.”

“No, I have piss to clean out of my bed, motherfucker. Now that I think about it, cut a finger off for me too.” He waves me off, leaving me alone with Baz, and my bolt cutters.

Twenty-One

Mackenzie

“Morning, beautiful.” A warm breath skirts over my ear, stirring me from my sleep.

“Beau?” I stretch out, letting myself wake up. My body aches more than yesterday. Muscles I never knew I had groan in protest.

“Sore, darlin’?”

I look up at his question and watch him strip beside the bed.

“It’s a good sore,” I tell him, my eyes traveling down his chest, abs, and landing on his hard cock.

Nope, it doesn’t get old.

“We don’t have much time.” He rips the covers off me and crawls over. My legs are bare, only going to bed in a pair of panties and Beau’s shirt.