Page 27 of Filthy Savage

“No,” Atomic snaps. “You don’t get to do that. You don’t get to say a goddamn thing back to me. And you will answer me.”

Loner’s eyes narrow on Atomic. I am here for the showdown. As much as I wanted to be the one to torture him, I’m good with watching Atomic do the job. Crossing my arms over my chest, I dip my chin as I wait for Loner to say something.

“Fuck the Dark Horse,” he states.

“No,” Atomic barks. “Fuck the Southern Mafia… oh, wait, they no longer exist.”

Loner lifts his chin, attempting to look down his nose as if he’s something special. He’s not. He’s naked and sitting in the middle of the living room, surrounded by dead men and women.

“That’s what you think,” Loner snorts. “You really think that Albert was the mastermind?”

“Oh yeah?” Gnaw asks. “You want to enlighten us?”

Loner doesn’t say anything. Atomic pushes the knife a little farther into his flesh, not enough to kill him, just enough tocause a little bit of blood. I watch as it trickles down his chest, smiling at the sight.

My gaze flicks down to the tattoo that’s on the center of his chest. It’s our insignia with the name Dark Horse MC in capitals curved across the bottom. I want to cut it off while he’s still breathing.

I want to hear him scream—beg—whimper.

All of the above.

“I’m done. You can figure it out on your own. You’ve killed everyone. May as well just go ahead and finish me. I’m not telling you anything else.”

Atomic doesn’t say anything for a long moment. He inhales a deep breath, then surprises me when he stands and takes a step backward. His gaze flicks to me. “Get your retribution for Clink and your woman.”

I take a step forward, holding out my hand as Atomic passes me his knife. But he doesn’t walk away yet. Instead, he stops and arches a brow as he looks down at Loner. “Just wanted to let you know. Your sister is now the property of the Dark Horse MC. You can die with that knowledge.”

“Fuck you,” Loner grinds out. “You don’t even know who the fuck she is.”

“Oh, but we do,” King says. “We’re going to save her for Clink. His reward for being locked up. So die knowing that it’s Clink who will be fuckingher.”

And with that, nobody says another fucking word. I sink down to my knees, and Gnaw does the same behind Loner. He holds him still while I lift the knife to his chest. Keeping my gaze focused on his, I watch as his eyes widen in shock.

I don’t know why he’s surprised.

Since he became an actual brother and wasn’t just some prospect, he knows what happens when you betray the club. Isink the knife into his flesh and shift my attention to my work. As slowly as I possibly can, I make a shallow cut outlining his tattoo.

Loner is only silent for about a minute of the process in his failed attempt to be strong. The rest of the time, he screams like the bitch he is as I flay his skin open like I’m cutting steak. It’s fucking hilarious. There is blood everywhere, but I don’t give a fuck about that.

My focus is on cutting this tattoo off and nothing else. He eventually stops his screaming. I think about waiting for him to regain consciousness, but I actually have a headache from his high-pitched girlie crying.

Once I’m finished peeling the tattooed skin from his body, I hold it up to the room full of my brothers. Atomic pats my back, and I look over to him. I know I’m covered in Loner’s blood, but I don’t give a shit.

“We frame this one as a reminder of what happens when you betray the brotherhood,” Atomic states.

And with that, we gather ourselves and walk out of the house with Loner’s skin in hand. I hear the gasoline being poured over Loner’s body, and moments later, the house is up in flames.

It’s a bit dramatic, considering we have the cops here still on our payroll, but I can’t deny that we have a flare about us. You know, if the Dark Horse MC has been somewhere, we never leave a damn thing the way we found it, good or bad.

“Let’s go home,” Atomic announces. “We need to do some digging, see if there was any truth to what Loner said about the Southern Mafia having leadership elsewhere.”

Climbing onto my bike, I lead the way home. Back to the clubhouse, back to our women. Back to my woman.

Back to Spencer.

I’m ready to claim her—completely.

I’m ready to keep her. And that’s exactly what I plan to do. Right or wrong, Spencer was always meant to be mine. She justneeded to live life a little. I could have never lived with myself had I kept her at eighteen.