Marek (Knights Corruption MC #1) (39 page)

Glancing first to Cutter wielding one of his favorite knives, then to me standing directly beside him, he cracked his neck from side to side as if he were preparing to do battle himself.

“You stole my property. You barged into
my
club and stole what belonged to
me
. I saw you. I saw the way you looked at her, the way you tried to make sure she was safe when she wasn’t with you. I’ve been watchin’ for weeks. You have a soft spot for the whore, but know this. Even when I’m dead and gone, Psych won’t rest until she’s back inside our club. And how you found her at the motel will be nothing to what he’s gonna do to her once he gets her back.”

Though I tried not to react to whatever he said, he’d been able to rattle me. He’d been able to play on my fears. Vex was only
one
of the threats toward Sully, and we both knew it. Her father was diabolical, and if he ever got his hands on her, there was no way he wouldn’t kill her soon after. Vex had only allowed her to live so long because I was sure he was gonna use her until he’d had his fill.

Deciding not to give the bastard any satisfaction, I steeled my posture and made sure my face was expressionless when I uttered one word.

“Cutter.”

And just like that, his torture began. Neither one of us had a specific plan as to what we were gonna do to him. I simply knew it would be drawn out and painful.

Over the course of the next hour, my man went to work carving up Vex’s chest, inch by inch. Some cuts were shallow, some were deep. Some were long, some were short. But each one was precise.

Stepping back after Cutter had finished, I could clearly make out the letters ‘K C,’ even with all the blood seeping from his open wounds. To have the initials of a rival club carved into the chest was one of the highest insults. The only thing equaling it was integrating one of their own, which I’d already done when I made Sully my wife.

While I thought Vex would beg and plead, scream and holler, cry and break down, he did none of those things. He grimaced every time the tip of the blade cut through his flesh, but not once did he say anything.

Which led me to believe one of two things.

Either he was strong-willed and brave.

Or he was certifiably insane.

I was leaning toward the latter.

Walking around the table until I stood next to his head, I leaned in close so he wouldn’t mistake what I had to say. “We’re just getting started, you fucker. Hope you like what we have planned next.” His bloodshot eyes glared at me, his lips drawn so tight they’d lost all color. Although he chose not to utter a scream, the stress of keeping all his pain bottled up was wearing on him. His brown hair was matted to his forehead, his body’s one indication he was indeed panicking on the inside.

He looked haggard.

He’d aged years in just minutes.

“Cutter, help me turn him over.” Having no idea what I was thinking, he acted as instructed. No questions asked.

I debated on whether or not to knock Vex out before loosening his restraints, or to allow him to fight one last time.

What the hell. I enjoy a good challenge.

As soon as I loosened the ties around his feet, his body went into full fight mode, kicking and thrusting his legs every which way. His entire body twisted, his back arching off the table while he continued to thrash about.

Realizing he was gonna be quite the handful, I brought the butt of my gun down quickly on the side of his head, a lump swelling on his temple almost instantaneously. The blow was enough to stop him from freaking out, but not enough to halt him entirely. Which I welcomed.

What fun would it be if he complied completely?

Cutter held down his lower half while I freed his arms, flipping him over quickly so we could restrain him again. A low groan escaped his mouth as soon as his carved-up chest hit the surface of the table, blood steadily pouring from him and hitting the ground at our feet.

Widening his legs, I tightly fastened each ankle to the bottom of the table. He was most certainly going to resist his next and final punishment, so I had to ensure he was secure before making my next move.

Beckoning Cutter over, I leaned in close and whispered something into his ear, Vex’s head turned to the side, his eyes roaming over the scene of his two assailants with vigor. There was no way he would know what was coming, and while I wanted nothing more than to surprise him directly before inflicting his much-deserved pain, I decided to give him a hint.

Let him sweat a bit beforehand.

Once Cutter had ascended the basement steps, I leisurely walked around the space, pacing and slapping my hand on various objects placed around the room. First it was a set of chains. Picking up the heavy objects, I tossed them into a tin tray, the noise startling even me, and I was prepared for it. Then I fingered the many knives lined up next to one another on the far side table. In view so he could see, but not so close he could make out the intricate carving details of each.

“Sully told me all about what you did to her.” Choosing to remain silent while my words resonated, I waited to see if he would banter with me. A few moments passed . . . and nothing. So I continued. “She told me how you abused her for days before leaving her tied up to bleed out like some kind of animal.” Footsteps sounded overhead. “And I’m gonna do to you what you did to her.” Rounding the table so I could lean in close, I threatened, “Let’s see how you like being fucked with a bat.”

The last word left my lips and, as if on cue, Cutter strolled into the dank room holding an old, beat-up, wooden baseball bat. I kept my eyes on Vex the entire time, waiting for it to register just what was gonna happen to him. My satisfaction came when my fingers curled around the larger part of the bat. His eyes shut tightly before his body twitched on the table, his muscles locking up the closer I moved toward him with the weapon in hand.

“If you believe that lying whore then you’re the idiot!” he yelled, breathing hard as he waited for my next move. “I never did any such thing to that bitch,” he seethed.

“Maybe you just don’t remember it,” I countered. “Enough talk. Let’s get down to it.” I tapped the wood against his upper thighs, tormenting him before I even started. “Who knows, Vex, you might actually enjoy this.” My laugh was sinister. I had no qualms about dancing with demons that night, every punishment I deemed appropriate as payback for all the years he’d tortured Sully. Not givin’ a shit about her well-being, physically or emotionally. Tapping the bat against his ass that time, I finished with, “Or maybe not.”

His howls were music to my ears; he’d finally broken. He was a soulless sadist who deserved every bit of pain I inflicted on him. After an hour, I blessed Cutter with the authority to finish him off however he deemed necessary. I gave him strict instructions to drop off Vex’s rotting corpse somewhere his club would find him, and to leave the bat in place so they knew exactly what had happened to him—among other things.

Marek

Two weeks had passed and both patients were doing quite well. I’d taken Sully back home to my house—
our
house—and let her recoup under my watchful eye.

I’d forsaken the club to a point, vowing to care for my wife until she was completely healed. The area surrounding her wound remained red and puffy and she still experienced a bit of pain, but not nearly like she had. Every time she moved too quickly, or twisted the wrong way and winced, it sliced right through me. As soon as she witnessed the pain in my eyes, she was the one trying to comfort me.

Our affections for each other only grew stronger, and it was on a mundane Thursday evening when I decided I needed to finally tell her how I felt once and for all. Expressing myself wasn’t necessarily my strong suit, unless, of course, I was angry about something. In those cases, I had absolutely no problem letting anyone know what was brewing inside me.

“Can I get you anything else?” Sully reclined on the couch, taking a small sip of water to wash down her pain meds. She was getting better with each passing day. Physically, anyway. Emotionally was a different story. Almost every night, she’d woken from nightmares, choosing each time to remain tight-lipped when I asked her what exactly plagued her. The only thing she would mumble was “Vex.”

I saw the effects of what he’d done to her body, but I still had no idea about what had happened during the time she was with him, which had led to each and every bruise . . . and to the stabbing. My body clenched in rage every time I looked at the remnants of her abuse, but I always made sure to keep my fury in check so she didn’t think it was directed at her in any way.

She’d asked me a few days after I’d rescued her if I’d killed Vex, the whimper in her voice almost indecipherable. I warred between thinking she was fearful he was still alive, and her expressing her sadness because she still felt something for him. Something akin to Stockholm syndrome, or some shit like that.

When I fessed up that he’d been taken care of, that he was no longer a threat, she breathed a sigh of relief. An action which immediately put all my fears to rest. I didn’t go into detail over what we’d done to him, however. She didn’t need to hear any of it.

She was relieved Vex no longer breathed the same air, and that was good enough for me.

Now, the only other person I had to worry about was her father.

I’d been in touch with Rafael, making sure our deal was continuing as promised. Soon enough, the Savage Reapers would be without a steady flow of income, and as soon as Psych and his men were vulnerable and desperate, my men and I would swoop in and end him and his filthy club once and for all.

“No, I’m fine,” she answered. “Thank you.” She turned her head and looked up at me as I approached. She smiled, her entrancing brown eyes beckoning to me. “You know you don’t have to dote on me, don’t you?” She licked her lips and waited for me to sit next to her. Once I was close, I reached for her hand and entwined my fingers with hers, the warmth of her touch calming my erratic nerves.

“I don’t mind. Whatever I can do to help you, I will. Always.” I meant to smile, but my face remained expressionless. There were so many things I wanted to say, so many questions I had, about everything, that curving my lips was the last thing I thought about.

And she noticed.

Turning slowly to face me, her hand covering her newest wound out of habit, she looked worried. “Is there something wrong, Cole? Why do you look so serious?” When the only response I gave her was silence, her eyes widened and she had a mini panic attack, as if I were about to ruin her with whatever was gonna come tumbling out of my mouth.

Clutching her hand tightly in mine, I leaned in and kissed her lips. It was gentle at first, then the more breath we shared, our entanglement became something else.

Raw.

Carnal.

Promising.

I love you. I think I fell for you the first time my world crashed into yours. There hasn’t been a moment that’s gone by when I haven’t thought about you. About what you were doing. About how you were dealing with your new life. If you were attracted to me. If you thought about me as much as I thought about you. My life had very little meaning before I met you, and now . . . Shit! I have no idea what I would do without you. When you were stolen, my soul was crushed, the very thought of never seeing you again too much to bear. I exist because you exist. I hate when other men look at you, let alone dare to talk to you. I want to rip their eyes out of their heads, their tongues from their mouths. My heart hammers against my chest in anger when I’m not the only one who makes you laugh, who puts you at ease, for however long that might be. When I’m inside you, it’s the best feeling in the entire world. Nothing else matters. The only sounds I want to hear for the rest of my life are the sexy-as-hell moans you make when you’re coming. Whether it’s from my mouth, fingers or cock. I could live with you, here, all alone, just the two of us, naked and satisfying each other for the rest of our lives.

I wanted to say all of that to her, but I didn’t. Pulling back from her mouth, I said, “I’m fine. Just worried about how you’re feeling.”

Her face relaxed a little, short pants of air hitting my face while she tried to calm down from our kiss. “I’ll be okay. Really. I’ve been through worse.” She cringed at her own words, which in turn made me stiffen.