Mad Dog (Angel’s Rebellion MC: #2) (Angel's Rebellion MC), стр. 104

“Fuck you,” he mumbled.

“Ah, you don't have to be like that now do you?” Blood asked him.

“How about you tell me the name of your supplier.”

He didn't even respond, just grinned lopsided at us.

“So you're not gonna do anything to help yourself out at all?” I asked him.

“I’m not telling you shit. You all better leave before the police get here,” he stammered out.

I threw back my head and laughed at the fucker.

“Yeah, like the police are going to come save your sorry ass. They'll be cheering once they find your body,” I sneered at him. “Enough of this shit, without torturing him he's not going to tell us anything.”

Ava stepped forward until she was roughly four feet in front of him.

“Do you know who I am, asshole?” she snarled.

He shook his head, then realized someone was behind him, turned his head and saw Slaughter behind him.

“The lady's talking to you, asshole, don't look at me, look at her,” he said mockingly.

“Hey, what are y'all doing, why is the collar around my neck?” he threw his head back and looked upward and saw the rope attached to the mechanism. “Why's the rope on there?” he cried out.

Slaughter laughed, “Guess, fucker.”

“What are you planning on doing to me? I haven't done anything to you,” he whined.

Ava lunged at him, luckily, I was close enough to grab her.

“Think of the baby,” I whispered into her ear and she calmed down a little.

“I'll repeat myself, do you know who I am?”

“I don't know who you are,” he muttered.

“Then let me tell you who I am. I'm the woman who's come back for vengeance and justice. You took two lives from me, so I'm taking yours.”

“Don't have a clue what you're talking about,” he giggled drunkenly at her as he spoke.

She leaned closer to him and whispered, “Remember Brian Hall?”

His head snapped back.

“Waking up some, asshole?” she coldly asked the fucker.

His eyes locked onto her face.

“Ah, it appears you do. You murdered my husband and son, you bastard. My son was three years old. THREE YEARS OLD, YOU MOTHERFUCKER,” she screamed at him. “He was a baby, a sweet innocent child and you ordered someone to kill all of us. You’re shit out of luck that we didn’t all die that day because now you die and I'm going to watch the life leave your eyes. And remember this when you are gasping for air, I will fucking be laughing thinking about your pathetic ass twisting and turning as you burn in the fires of hell.”

She stepped back slightly, her body shaking in rage. I stepped forward, wrapped my arms around her and drew her in tight to me.

“Let me tell you what's about to happen to you, Mr. Anson Miller, Esquire. In a minute, the man that is helping you remain upright is going to let go of your ass. You're then going to drop and start choking, but when you reach for that slip knot to get out of your twisted little contraption, you're not going to find it. Wanna know why?” she asked him tauntingly.

His eyes had been checking out everything she was saying, and I could see that it was slowly starting to sink in that he was in trouble.

“Scared to ask? Well, I'll be nice and tell you why. That's not your rope and I promise you, it won't release. Let this all play through your head as you're desperately trying to get your feet under you and you're trying to pull that rope. No matter what you try, you're not gonna get out of this alive.

“All these men are here to make sure you can't get to your feet. And when the police find your nasty, bloated, naked body, oh, don't worry, we'll make sure to remove the cute little pjs you're wearing, because we do want to give whoever finds you their money's worth, they'll find you hanging from your little sexual mechanism. It will be talked about by all your family and friends about how you died of asphyxiation as you tried to whack off.”

Horror crossed Miller's face as what she was saying to him finally sank in.

“You can't do this, you can't,” he blubbered out.

“Oh yes I can, you bastard,” she spit out. “Time to meet your maker. Tell Lucifer I sent one of his bastard sons back home to him.”

With a smile promising retribution, she looked at Slaughter and said, “Drop the fucker.”

And Slaughter did. Miller's body dropped and he started choking. He tried to get his feet under him but between the alcohol and sleeping pill he must have taken; his coordination was off. As his face turned red and purple, he reached up trying to release the slip knot on the rope.

I grinned and informed him, “Remember what she said fucker, it's not there. Nothing you can do at all. But. Die. And we're all gonna watch and smile as the life leaves your fucking body, you pathetic excuse for a man.”

His mouth opened as he tried desperately to get air into his lungs, but the force of his weight wasn't letting much if any get through. The more he writhed about, the redder his face became. Gradually his body's movements slowed and stilled, then his body dropped, all his weight was being supported by his neck. We waited for an additional five minutes, each of us looking at the bastard who had taken the lives of at least two innocent people. We would never know how many more deaths he was responsible for. Finally, Blood reached over and felt Miller's carotid artery.

“He's gone.”

“It's over, babe. It's over,” I whispered into Ava's ear.

She turned her face into my chest and cried silently.

“Let's get shit done and get out of here. Remember to take what he's wearing off, make his bed back up, and don’t forget to remove our rope and put his rope on him,” I said to the guys.

They nodded