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Book online «Dillon: A Wings of Diablo MC Novel Lake, B. (best new books to read TXT) 📖». Author Lake, B.



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near the tree line on the west side of the building. I couldn't wait to see what surprises he’d caught.

I jog to get there. When I see the line of people that Yang and Jag had brought down, I smile.

One of them is the motherfucker from the picture. The one that was carrying my baby in a duffle bag.

Yes. This was going to be fun.

Dillon

Ink, Roth, Jag, and Yang all help me drag the bastards further into the trees, where they were denser and harder to see through. I scouted the area ahead until I found the perfect place. It was a small opening in the trees with a few small bushes and some grass, but there was enough space for what I wanted to do.

"I need wood, firewood. Enough for 6 small bonfires." I tell them.

"Bonfires? What the hell are you going to do?" Yang asks, but then puts his hand up, "You know what, never mind. I don't think I want to know." He turns and walks out into the forest to get what I asked. Jag and I stay behind to make sure the prisoners don't get away.

"Do you know what you've done? This shit isn't just about us. You’re fucking with the pockets of presidents, royalty, kings, and fucking dukes! They will destroy this little outfit you have here. Think good about what you’re doing." says a man that I recognize as one of the men in the photo Brendan sent me earlier.

"Kings huh? I don’t think I’ve ever pissed off a king before. I’m down with that." I shrug and walk away from him.

"Yemen will kill you all and never have to leave his fucking office."

"Yemen?" Jag startles and walks closer to the man. It’s obvious he is rattled.

I grab hold of him and pull him back.

"Who’s Yemen?"

"The motherfucker who has Duchess!"

"Oh Marie? Yeah, she’s right at home over there with him." The prisoner says nonchalantly.

I don’t think I have ever seen Jag get so furious so fast, "You piece of shit!" He pulls his foot back and brings the heel of it down on the man's face. Over and over until I can drag him back again.

I knew a bit about what had gone down at Eve’s Fury, but we were getting through our own shit that I didn’t know much.

"Yemen?"

Jag takes in a few deep breaths to compose himself so that he can talk to me. "He is some big fucker over in Europe, basically runs an auction service for high level officials so they can get wives and sex slaves."

"Ha!" Another of the people on the ground laughs, "You think it’s only for wives?"

"Do you know how much little boys and girls go for over there? Yemen can get you anything you want, as quickly as you want. This small holding location is nothing compared to the ones he has around the country, hell around the fucking world." He continues to laugh and the sound of it gets under my skin. A dull roar echoes in my ears and I can't hear anything around me anymore. Not Jag, not the rest of the prisoners, just this bastard laughing. I rush over to him and pull the man up to his knees. I yank his head back and shove the grip end of the bat into his mouth. He tries to buck away from me, but I hold his head as steady as I can. I use my elbow to hammer the end of the bat further and further down his throat until blood and vomit trickles out of his nose and the slit of his mouth. I can see the hard round imprint of the knob of the bat bulging through the skin of his chest. I hit it one more time and hear a satisfying crack of his sternum. The man doesn't make a sound. He's not breathing or moving, but most importantly he's not fucking laughing anymore.

I grab hold of the barrel of the bat where there is a gap in the barbed wire and try to yank the bat back out. It doesn't budge at first and I have to put my foot on the man's shoulder to get some leverage. Finally, when I'm able to get it out, large chunks of bright pink material come up with it and a tube-like muscle flops out of his mouth.

Like coming up from under water, a wave of sound crashes into my ears and I can hear everyone around me again. The rest of the prisoners are screaming and begging for their lives, and Jag’s behind me.

"What the fuck is that?" A nasty gagging sound comes out of his mouth as he steps closer to where I am. "What the fuck is that, coming out of his mouth?"

I look down, and roll the tube- like material around in my fingers. I can feel the slight ridges on the body tissue that I'd ripped up. "That's his throat, the esophagus and trachea. I must have pulled it out along with some of his lung." I pluck off some of the pink material from the edge of the grip of the bat and flick it at Jag. He jumps out of the way and the tawny colored man turns green as he keels over and throws up.

"Oh, what the fuck." He groans as he stumbles away. Not everyone is made to maim and torture.

"Did you get started without us?" Ink says as they walk back with arms full of sticks.

"That one needed to learn a lesson. The rest of them know better now too." I turn and the rest of the prisoners are either still crying or are hunched way over trying to hide from me.

Yang doesn't even bother to ask what happened. "You need more?"

"Yeah, lots more." I tell them and keep my eyes on the rest of the prisoners. I wonder what other details they all had hidden in their fucked up minds.

After

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