The Butcher of the Bay Part II - J. Bree Page 0,78
you’ll be true to your word. If you do it for me before the end of the week, I’ll throw in a hundred grand for the job."
It kills me not to shoot him for this disrespect. D'Ardo might have been a deceitful fuck but I've always followed through. I've never bailed on a job, even when it wasn't my style, and to have him say that shit to me, fuck I want to bleed him out for it. I want to bathe in his blood.
My phone buzzes in my pocket and he jerks his head in the direction of the sound. "The information is there, for your job and mine. Contact me once you're finished with your work with the cartel and we can arrange a time and place for the pick up. I need him alive, Butcher."
I nod and step back into the warehouse, checking the security cams until I see the car disappear into the night and then checking that the alarms are set.
Then I walk upstairs to my girl and forget about all the shit I have left to get done. There’s dinner hot on the table and a new painting to admire.
That’s all I need.
--
The cul-de-sac is exactly what Odie described to me.
The neighbors all look away at the sight of my Mustang and all of the bikers driving up behind me as we pull up to the address. The place looks like a normal house on the inside but I’m expecting a fucking nightmare on the inside.
I brought fresh steaks for the dogs.
I get out of the car and palm both of my guns, ready to shoot my way through and get it over with. I’d texted through the photos of Odie’s paintings to be sure everyone knows which men I need alive.
No one gets their deaths but me.
The front door bursts open and three armed cartel men walk out, guns in their hands as they shout in Spanish at us. Harbin’s face splits into an evil grin, the one he wears when shit is personal and it’s then that I’m reminded that he knew Mike well and the brutal death by savage dogs of his Unseen brother had not gone unnoticed.
He pulls out a knife and Roxas whoops with excitement, fucking thrilled that his brother is ready to spill blood like his name suggests.
The yelling gets louder as Harbin approaches then finally one of them fires at him, hitting him square in the chest but with the Kevlar on and the rage pumping through him he barely registers the shot, his feet still moving and his own war cry tearing out of his chest.
He takes down the guy in the middle, a knife to his throat as he blows out his carotid artery in one move. The other two are struck dumb by the sight of their friend’s blood pumping out of his neck like a fucking firehose, covering them all in the shower of hot, red spatters. He slices them both open at the backs of their knees, their screams loudly echoing through the night air of the neighborhood.
No one comes to help them.
You reap what you motherfucking sow.
I watch as he takes his time carving them up, stabbing them so fucking hard I can hear as their bones snap underneath the blows, and finally I turn to Roxas. “I think he has some shit to work through.”
He gives me a lopsided grin back. “You think? He’s been holding it all in, saving it up for tonight. We both want these guys dead for what they did to that idiot Mike but for what they did to your angel with those big sad eyes? Nah, we want them screaming.”
The other bikers shift on their feet, clearly less into the blood-soaked plan but that’s why they’re the Boar’s bitches and not my friends. Bitches who only use bullets aren’t real fucking men in my opinion. The hot spray of blood on your face when you carve a man up is true fucking joy.
I stop fantasizing about killing men and move forward to actually do it.
There’s men everywhere as we enter and even the maids that my girl warned me about who start screaming the second Harbin walks in like some fucking nightmare. I deal with them quickly, trying not to think about which fucking one of them held Odie’s motherfucking chain while Alcatron raped her because that might just set me the fuck off and butchering women isn’t really my style.