“I got him,” Kenzo calls, before dragging over a man wearing jeans and a stained top. “Stupid idiot asked if I knew who he was. Apparently he’s the leader.” He tosses him at Ryder’s feet, who leans down with his arms between his legs.

“Is that right? Do you know who I am?” he asks.

Fuck, I love this bit.

I giggle when Ryder slowly rolls his sleeves back, exposing his tats. “Better answer him,” I yell.

“I-I know who you are,” the man snarls, getting to his knees. He tries to get to his feet, but Kenzo presses his head down so he remains seated.

“Good, this makes this easier. Who hired you?” Ryder inquires casually, still rolling back his sleeves. Methodically, slowly.

“Fuck you,” he snaps. Why do they all keep saying that?

Ryder smirks and stands, grabbing a blade from the table. He holds it in the air, letting it gleam in the light. “Then let us begin. I want you to know from the start what will happen to you. I offered you a way out, now there is none. I will cut off your fingers, and while you’re still screaming, I will flay the flesh from your arms. Then I’ll start on your feet. I will, of course, cauterise the wounds so you don’t bleed out. You will talk, obviously, but understand I must make an example of you now. I will cleave your body into pieces and ship them across the city as a warning.”

The man doesn’t seem so brave anymore. He’s sweating, and his body is shaking. “I’ll tell you, God, I’ll tell you everything.”

Ryder sighs. “Yes, you will.” He grabs the man’s hand and starts to cut off his fingers.

“I’ll tell you! Please!” he screams desperately as he struggles, so I step in and hold him still, watching his face as Ryder chops one finger off.

“He’s going to puke,” I observe calmly.

“Nah, faint,” Garrett counters.

“Both,” Kenzo interjects, and we all watch as Ryder starts on the next finger, carefully and coolly.

Kenzo was right, the guy pukes. I skip away to avoid it, and then he passes out, landing in his own vomit. Fuck. I hand over a hundred and so does Garrett. Ryder sits back on his heels and waits for him to wake up.

He does rouse eventually, though only after I whip out my dick and start to piss on the idiot. He chokes on it as we laugh, and Ryder starts up again. Before he gets to the second hand, the guy is sobbing like a baby and spilling everything.

Including who hired him.

The Triad.

They are trying to wipe us out.

“They-they said once you were gone, they were going to divide the city and we could have this side,” he cries.

I laugh at that. “They would have killed you too, idiot. Never work with the bastards, they never keep their word.”

Ryder looks pissed. “I suspect if they want a war, they are going to get one.”

“So-so I can go?” the guy whimpers.

I smirk, and Ryder grins. “No, you’re going to be a message, like I said. Now, please hold still and try to breathe. This will hurt.”

We all sit back and watch Ryder’s handiwork. I did learn from the best, after all. I might be cruel and crazy, but Ryder…he knows exactly where to cut, where to hit, where to slice to inflict the most pain. I’m pretty sure he would have made a good doctor in another life, you know, if he wasn’t such a bloodthirsty bastard.

The man prays for death before it’s through, and he dies in pain and alone, knowing his own mistakes are to blame. I find some boxes, and Ryder places the man’s limbs in each one.

Arms.

Legs.

Hands.

Fingers.

Cock.

Head.

Laughing, we seal them up and carry them out to the car with us.

By the time we’re done, it’s early, and the sun is almost rising. “Let’s go home.” Ryder shrugs into his jacket, frowning at the bloodstains.

“Yup, I wonder what the little bird is up to.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

ROXY

“Flush, bitches!” I laugh, laying the cards on the table. “Read them and weep.”

Tony groans, his big frame stuffed into the dining room chair where we are playing poker. He looks like a gorilla, but the man version. He’s actually very sweet though. An ex-SAS soldier who couldn’t fit back into civvy life. I’ve learned that a lot of the guys’ security hires are the same. All men with nowhere else to go, no other place to fit or call home. My guys gave them that and a pay slip.

“Fuck, how do you keep winning?” Sam snarls, as he throws down his cards. He’s skinnier than Tony, but also massive compared to me. His long, brown hair is tied back at the base of his skull.

“She has to be cheating,” Dem snarls. Now him? He’s an asshole. A rude fucking bastard who thinks women should be seen and not heard. It’s my great pleasure to prove him wrong. Even the others seem to hate him. Pope is still patrolling the apartment and keeping watch, but the others were just sitting there, so it was getting boring.

I searched Kenzo’s room until I found some cards and challenged them to a few rounds of poker while we waited for the guys. There is no way I’m sleeping until they are, so I might as well earn some money. I grab the notes and stuff them down my bra, smirking at Dem.

“You’re just a sore loser, especially to a woman.” I laugh, and his eyes narrow, nostrils flaring. He’s a good-looking son of a bitch, it’s a shame about his personality.

“Yeah, and how’s it feel to be a toy?” he snaps.

I arch my eyebrow at that, leaning back as I sip my beer. “I dunno, how does it feel? You act like a walking, talking dick, so you must be a dildo.”

Sam and Tony roar with laughter as I hide my smirk behind the rim of my bottle. The sun is almost rising behind us, so the guys should be back soon. I ought to put this all away before they return and get pissed at me for distracting their security.

“You fucking bitch, show me your cards,” he snarls, reaching over, but I clutch them and pull them to my chest out of principle. He grabs my wrist and twists it, making me gasp as he tries to get them.

Sam and Tony get to their feet, their eyes hard. “Let her go, man.”

“Not until she shows me, the cheating bitch,” Dem sneers.

We’re locked in a stare down when the door opens. Fuck. Our eyes slowly go to the doorway where the guys are now standing. Blood coats them from head to toe, mainly Diesel and Ryder. I even do a double take at the usual cold Viper. His sleeves are rolled back, exposing his blood-stained forearms, but under it, I spot tattoo sleeves which finish at his wrists. I was not expecting that. His jacket is thrown over his shoulder, his hair ruffled, and his perfect skin is almost completely coated in red.

They are all smiling, until their gazes land on Dem and me. Then their amusement bleeds away to pure fucking anger. Shit. I’m dead. “Hey, guys, have some fun? Did you bring me a present?” I ask, filling the silence as Tony and Sam step away. Their arms are behind their backs, their eyes once again empty as they stand before the window, leaving Dem behind, who’s still gripping me, showing me and the guys exactly how much they don’t like him. They don’t even try to get him away before the guys react. Shit, shit, shit. Ryder steps forward, those icy eyes freezing me in place.