Page 77 of Maverick
“Go,” Reaper told me. “Look after him so this doesn’t come back on us. We got her.”
I nodded, and helped Tavi up. She felt so good leaning against me, but there was something off about her. Something I was worried was broken.
Shadow helped her into a chair and Reaper guarded the door just as I slipped out, giving her one last look, before I went in search of Chaos, Vegas and the man who was going to experience every inch of pain and suffering I could inflict tonight.
Once I saw Chaos at the door to an emergency exit, I knew. This was going to happen now, and here.
“We got the car being pulled around, what you want with his body?”
I should clear this with Reaper first, and it should be his call, but I needed this fucker to be made an example of. I needed people to know what happened when you fucked with the Shackled Sons.
“Outlaw pose.”
Chaos’ eyebrows rose. “Really?”
“Too much for you?” I queried, annoyed he was questioning me.
“Not at all,” he replied, his sick, twisted little smirk appearing on his face. “Just wanted to make sure we were on the same page. I got you, brother.”
Stepping into the cool night air, I looked down at the piece of shit on his knees, the revolver at his head, and Vegas behind him, calm as ever. That was Vegas.
“Vegas, what’s the worst punishment I could deliver without messing up my hands?” I asked him.
“You afraid to get bloody, Mav?” he asked, a smirk on his lips.
“Usually no, but I have a woman to go home and please, and I’d much rather be able to use my fingers.”
Hardy scoffed. “Whore–”
He didn’t get far in his tirade. Vegas smacked him with the butt of the gun, silencing whatever vile shit was about to come out of his mouth. Vegas let him drop to the ground, knocked out.
“I got the perfect fucking thing for him, but you’re gonna wanna wake him up for it. He’s not gonna wanna miss this.”
Somehow, I chuckled, and undid my pants, pulling my dick out and aiming at the motionless fuckhead who had tried to ruin my woman, on multiple occasions. My piss hit him directly on the face, coating him. Watching as he came to, his tongue coming out to taste the liquid on his lips, before realisation took over just as my stream ended.
“Fuck–”
He was about to call out to me, when Vegas kicked him in the side, causing him to howl in pain.
“We’re going to play a little game, Hardy,” I said, kneeling down, and taking the revolver off Vegas who stood to the side, his arms crossed over his chest. I flicked out the cylinder and made a show of removing all the bullets except for one. Vegas always carried this gun around with him. It was a reminder of everything his father had taught him, and a reminder that hetook his father’s life with this very gun. “We’re going to see how lucky you really are.”
“You fucking asshole,” he spat viciously. “My men are inside, they’ll have you and your club for this. The Ironborne will come down on you so fucking hard.”
“Yeah, see, you’re already losing favour with the Ironborne from what I heard. Mannix has been gathering an army under your nose. The old guard is out, or will be taken out shortly, and then rises the new Ironborne. The one who will work with the Sons to bring peace to Sydney.”
“Fucking mongrel,” he spat at me. “It’ll nev—”
He opened his mouth long enough for me to stick the muzzle in. Hardy gagged around it, trying to pull away, but I had him by his soaking wet shirt. I didn’t even care that it was wet from my piss right now. He wasn’t going to leave the premises of his casino alive.
It didn’t mean I couldn’t have some fun first.
Hardy tried to breathe around the metal in his mouth, the cold steel does something to you when it’s in your mouth.
“One bullet. Five chances to live.”
Click.
Hardy let out a panicked breath around the gun barrel, trying to squirm to get away, but I held him close.
