Verek (Savage Kings MC - South Carolina #3) - Lane Hart Page 0,27
not right before Floyd walks in.
Either way, it’s too late now. I shove Verek toward the door with my free hand to get him moving before I hurry down the hallway, just around the corner so that I can hear everything, the gun clutched in my hands at the ready. I even rest my finger over the trigger so that all it will take is a second to fire it if Floyd gets away from Verek. Not that I think he will.
I don’t hear the key in the lock, just the door opening and shutting, and then there’s a loud whomp. That’s when I sneak a peek into the living room. Verek is towering behind Floyd, slamming the front of his pudgy body into the wall, hopefully not hard enough to leave any bruises as he tries to restrain him, his forearm over his throat. Verek’s biceps bulge with effort, and I know that I shouldn’t find him sexy like this, when he’s in the middle of putting a man to sleep – permanently – but I do. He’s just so tough and masculine, impossible to resist at any day or time.
The man thrashes hard, attempting to get away, until they’re both on the ground. But finally, thankfully, he goes still underneath Verek. He keeps his hold on him down there for several more minutes to make sure he’s really out before he climbs off him.
“Whew!” Verek says as he gets to his feet, swiping his face on the sleeve of his shirt to remove the sweat before he turns to face me, as if he knew I had been watching even when I was supposed to be hiding. “Dirty son of a bitch was feistier than I expected.”
“I didn’t worry for a second,” I tell him truthfully.
“Let’s get this done,” he says, and I nod my agreement as I force my body into motion.
Chapter Twelve
Verek
* * *
Tessa sets up the chair in the bedroom closet where we decided to stage Floyd’s suicide. Even in darkness, I can tell she’s having a hard time with this one.
That’s why, after I drag his body into the bedroom, I tell her, “He’s dead, sweetheart. You don’t have to stay for the rest. It’s just to set the scene.”
“Are you sure?” she asks, looking down at the man at my feet, her arms wrapped around her waist protectively.
“I’m absolutely sure,” I reply. “Why don’t you check to make sure everything looks good in the living room and we didn’t damage the wall or drop anything over there?”
“Yeah, okay. I can do that,” she agrees before she leaves the room.
I admit that while I’m relieved to have the third one done, it’s still an additional burden on my shoulders I wasn’t expecting. Killing men, even these evil bastards, doesn’t get easier. If anything, each one was more difficult than the last. It goes against human nature to hurt someone else, which is why I don’t understand how these assholes could do what they did to those women.
Now, more than ever, we know there were more than Tessa and the other three from around Myrtle Beach. I counted at least twenty pieces of hair in his trophy box, the sick fuck.
How many more would he have added to the box if we hadn’t killed him? If I hadn’t killed him and his three friends? There is still one more man to go, but before the night is over, he’ll be dead too, and then our mission will be complete.
I think I’m dreading facing Roman more than anything else I’ve done. It’s not going to be pretty. In fact, I think he was serious when he said that my time with the Savage Kings is over and done. Not that he can single-handedly vote me out.
That thought inspires a bit of hope in my chest as I rig up Floyd on the rope and then knock the chair over to ensure there are lines around his neck to convince the police there was no foul play here. Hell, I bet even some officers would look the other way if they had any doubts because of what this sick bastard has done to women.
As I do a double check in the bedroom for anything out of place, I try and count the votes at the Savage Kings table. Who would vote me out for going behind Roman’s back? It would have to be a majority vote against me to kick me out for good.