Nic strides into the center and the Widows begin chanting his name as the three men glance around in fear, knowing damn well what their fate will be tonight.
Sebastian holds onto me tighter and slowly begins pulling me back into the crowd, trying to protect me from what’s about to happen but I don’t move a fucking inch. My eyes are glued on Nic and although I know I don’t want to see this, something is forcing me to stay, a deep desperation to know exactly who this man is that I thought I knew.
Nic walks behind the three bound men and kicks the back of their legs, sending them all falling to the dirty ground until they’re on their knees before him. They shake with fear but if you want to drive by the Black Widows home and kill their leader, this is the price you pay.
They were fools if they thought that they’d get away with this.
Nic stands tall and looks out at his Widows and the massive room falls into silence, anxiously waiting to see what he’s going to do.
“These men took our leader’s life—My father’s life,” he says, his tone loud and domineering, demanding the attention of the room. “They disrespected us, came onto our turf, and begged for war.”
Nic pauses as his Widows yell for revenge and he pulls a knife from within his jacket pocket, a jacket that is stained with his father’s blood. “This will not go unpunished,” he roars, making the Widows roar right along with him as my blood runs cold. “If it’s a war they beg for, then it’s a war we will give them, and we won’t stop until every last one of them are buried in our backyard.”
I step back into Sebastian’s chest and he holds me tighter, knowing I need his support.
Nic steps up to the bound man on the right, his knife glistening in the light above their heads. The man tries to strain his neck to keep an eye on Nic but Nic’s not having it. He grabs chunks of the man’s hair and tears his head back until his neck is completely exposed.
I swallow hard, my heart racing with fear.
Oh, Nic. Please don’t do this.
“Are you their shooter? Did you kill my father?”
“No,” the man rushes out, his eyes flicking to the man in the center. “It was Brock. I swear, I was driving. I didn’t shoot at anyone.”
Nic roars a dark laugh. “So I should just let you go, huh?” he says “I should take the word of a man who so quickly threw his brother under the bus? Where’s your fucking loyalty?”
The front of the man’s pants become wet as he starts begging for his life. “Please. I’ll do anything?”
Nic grips his hair tighter. “What a shame, you’re shit outta luck. My tolerance for disloyalty went out the fucking window the second you drove past my clubhouse. The Widows do not grant favors. A life for a life.”
With a flash, the knife slices deep across the man’s throat, and blood spurts out like a fountain. A loud gasp pulls from deep within me and as the man falls to the ground, Nic’s eyes snap to mine.
They widen just a fraction but the darkness swirling within them has him stepping to his next victim, not giving a shit that I’ve just witnessed him taking a life.
A massive pool of blood begins spreading around the dying man’s body, staining Nic’s shoes and the knees of the man that he just threw under the bus, but it’s as though they don’t even notice.
Nic wipes the blade of his knife on the middle guy’s shoulder, slicing the side of his neck in the process. “So, you’re the mother-fucker who killed my father.”
“Kian Garcia was fucking scum. He deserved to die and I’ll fucking die a happy man knowing that I was the one who had the pleasure of taking him out.” he spits, making the whole warehouse erupt in protest.
Some race forward, wanting to end him themselves while others desperately hold their brothers back, knowing damn well that this is Nic’s kill.
“I’m going to enjoy this,” Nic says, a dark laugh in his tone. “Don’t be fooled. I’m going to take my fucking time and it’s going to hurt.”
A guy steps into Nic’s side and hands him a pair of wire cutters and Nic takes them without hesitation. He grabs the shooter's wrist and tears it high above his head for everyone to