Chapter 7

7

Jordan

" T hane and I are going to Greer's," RJ says late that night after the three of us spent hours catching up on two days' worth of work thanks to the murders. It's just one more reason why I want to punch the murderer in the face. Not only am I working late, but I'm also fighting with Maddie for the first time ever, which I fucking hate.

"You coming?" Thane asks me.

"Yeah, as soon as I finish sweeping up."

"We can wait," RJ says.

But he looks as tired as I feel so I tell him, "No, I'll be right behind you. I'll lock up and meet you at the bar in five minutes."

"If you're sure?" RJ asks.

"Go. Order me a cold one," I tell him.

The two men finally concede with a nod. A moment later, the door that recently had a tongue attached to it jingles as they head out. The sounds of their motorcycles fade as their taillights disappear down the road just before I lower the final garage door down. I've just grabbed the broom when the front door jingles again.

Fuck .

I should've told RJ to lock up. Now some customer is coming to bitch about why we haven't gotten around to their car repairs yet and I'm so tired…

The wooden broom handle snaps in my hands, my anger and the pressure of the day catching up to me.

What do people think, that we used the excuse of a guy hanging dead from our sign to slack off?

But I don't recognize the man in a black business suit who strolls out of the office and into the garage like he owns it. He looks wealthier than any of Rockland's residents, making me certain he's from out of town. Maybe his car broke down as he was driving through.

"We're closed, and way behind, I know. If you tell me which car is yours, I'll try to get to it first thing tomorrow when we open at eight."

The businessman crosses his arms over his muscular chest, straining the black suit fabric, a smirk on his face. "I'm not here for car repairs."

There's something about him that's…wrong. Like the suit is just a costume hiding whatever lies underneath. Maybe it's the tattooed hands or the dirty blond hair brushing his shoulders that's throwing off the stereotypical businessman image he's trying to portray.

"Okay, then what do you want?" I ask him, my patience growing thin after the hellish day I've had.

"I'm here for Maddie."

Those four little words, the way he said her name as if he holds some sort of claim on her, turn my world upside down in a way I know it'll never be the same.

"Are you a fucking cop?" I ask him. Could he be a fed? I know he's not from the sheriff's department. When he doesn't answer, I tell him, "Stay the fuck away from my wife," I warn him, holding out the splintered broom handle like it's a wooden stake.

"Your wife?" The man barks out a laugh and then tilts his head to stare at me, nothing but violence in his gaze. "God, you are a pretty fucking idiot, but an idiot all the same."

I wave my makeshift stake higher. "Look, I don't know who the hell you are, but you don't want to mess with me and the Savage Kings."

He takes several, cool, casual steps closer to me in his black pointy dress shoes with all the confidence in the world radiating from his massive frame.

"Oh, baby boy, I'm not the least bit intimidated by you or your little biker club."

"Then you're the fucking idiot, buddy."

He laughs again. Cop or not, I still can't fucking tell. "I'm not the one who thinks he's been married to a woman more gorgeous than any he could have dreamed up for the past year. You know full well that Maddie's out of your goddamn league, don't you? I bet you don't even know her real name."

"All I need to know is that her last name is Robertson. My fucking name. I don't care who she was before…"

"Before she used you and your flight out of Vegas to escape her father?" As he comes closer, he says, "Tell me kid, did you never think to look up your alleged marriage license? I'll let you in on a little secret." He lowers his voice to a whisper. "There's not one. There was no wedding. Maddie lied to you, and you must have been too drunk or too stupid to realize it. She's been lying to you this whole time."

Wow. Wow .

Okay, so, I did try to look up our marriage license to get a copy and frame it for our anniversary back in June. But I couldn't find it and I gave up, figuring it was a clerical error or the Clerk of Courts was way behind on updating the system.

Instead of telling this stranger who is nearly my height but with thirty extra pounds of muscle on him, I say, "Get the hell out of here and stay the fuck away from Maddie!"

"Or what? You'll shoot me? Too bad that gun you left in the saddle bag on your Harley is in the bottom of the dumpster now."

Ah, fuck.

"Now what? You gonna threaten to shoot me?" I ask him as I try to remember where the closest tire iron is, or any other tool that would be a better weapon than a broken broom handle.

"I don't need a gun to kill you. I can do it with my bare hands," the bastard says confidently. I knew those tattoos were ominous looking. They're a warning of the damage he can do with his inked hands. "You're a pussy who doesn't deserve to be with Maddie."

"No shit," I say in agreement, hating how this stranger just walked in here and knows me better than my own wife. Even his eyes widen a tad in surprise at my admission. "But Maddie picked me. She's spent the past year with me."

"Because she didn't have any other options! You sure as hell can't protect her like I can. Do you have any idea the danger you put her in by going to that fucking PI?"

"What?"

"I cleaned up the mess you made, killed them both after I made them beg me for their deaths. And I'm gonna do the same to you," he threatens. "Except, before I cut out your eyeballs, I think I'll make you watch me fuck Maddie in your bed."

"That's never going to fucking happen!" The audacity of this son of a bitch is staggering.

"Wanna bet, baby boy?" he asks before he launches himself at me.

Gone are all appearances of the wealthy businessman. The asshole slams me into the wall behind me so hard the air is knocked from my lungs.

The back of my head bounces off the concrete, momentarily stunning me. Still, I manage to lift my right fist still holding the broom handle and slam it into the fucker's face. It doesn't even faze the bastard. In fact, he chuckles as if amused, then hauls his arm back and slams his fist into my face so hard the garage goes dark other than a few twinkling stars.

My knees weaken but he keeps me upright gripping my shoulders and lands a blow to my stomach.

"You never stood a chance against me."

"Fuck you." I spit blood from my busted lip at him. He releases one hand from me to wipe off the crimson smearing his cheek and looks down at his palm.

No, he doesn't just look at the stain, he holds his palm up to his face sniffing it before running his tongue over it.

"Blood is my aphrodisiac, never can get enough of it."

Hearing those words, the truth in them, that's when I realize this motherfucker was telling the truth about killing those two men, killing them and torturing. Not because of whatever wrong they did to him but because he enjoys it. Gets off on it.

"You're a sick fuck," I tell him. Then, because I have to know before I die, "Why the eyeballs?"

Now he laughs even louder than before. "I forgot that my reputation isn't known on the East Coast. Back in Vegas, everyone would know why I removed the eyes when they were still alive."

"Well? Are you going to tell me before you kill me or let me die in suspense?"

He lifts an eyebrow as if surprised by my ballsy statement. "So eager to die?"

"That's how this ends, isn't it?"

"Eventually." Using that bloody hand, he grabs my jaw in a grip tight enough to break it. "But I think I'll play with you a little longer than the others, just to hear more of your smart mouth."

"I thought you said I was an idiot."

"Oh, you definitely are when it comes to Maddie."

Instead of talking about her, I try to draw his attention away from her. "So? Why remove the eyeballs while they were still alive?" I ask again.

"For two reasons. One, it hurts like a motherfucker, and I enjoy their screams. Two…" He leans closer speaking right against my ear. "They scream even louder when I fuck their eye sockets."

"Bullshit," I say, unable to even imagine such a thing.

"Guess you'll find out soon enough. Can't wait to come inside of your skull."

"That's so fucked up," I tell him.

"I bet you'll scream louder than the last two fuckers. But we'll have to wait to find out. Like I said, I want you to keep your eyes a little longer so you can watch me fuck Madison."

Madison. Her real name.

"That won't happen because she's scared of you," I tell him, and the psycho bastard actually flinches like I hit a nerve. "Oh, shit, you don't like hearing that do you, fucker? Maddie was so scared of you that she wanted to leave town last night. But I fucked her until she agreed to stay for me, with me. If you kill me, she'll never forgive you."

"I don't need her to forgive me to fuck her, do I?"

This motherfucking son of a bitch…

I slam my elbow into his face, hearing his nose crunch when bone hits bone. He releases me like I had hoped he would. But when I try to slam the splintered end of the broom into his neck, he blocks it, squeezing my wrist until I drop it.

"Fuck!" I exclaim and he eases up before snapping my wrist in two.

"Don't give up so soon. Make me bleed a little more," he encourages. "I didn't say it had to be someone else's blood to get me hot." He proves his point by pressing the weight of his body into mine, pinning both of my wrists next to my head.

He's…well endowed, pressing all those long hard inches against my stomach. And fuck, I shouldn't love how good it feels.

The monster groans and then wiggles the tip of his wet tongue into my ear canal as he grinds his dick into me.

"God, I can't wait to fuck every one of your holes. And I will, dead or alive, I don't really care."

I try not to think too hard about that threat, but my mind can't seem to let it go.

"Does Maddie know about your necrophilia?" Again, my question gets to him, and he momentarily goes still before responding. "Doubt she'll approve or let you near her once she finds out."

"Fuck you," he growls into my ear before biting it.

"Wow," I say through the sting of his piercing teeth. "For such a violent psycho sadist, you really don't want her to know your deep dark secrets or fear you. Why is that? Are you in love with her or something?"

That's the last thing I get to say to him, because his next blow puts me on the floor, and then he's on top of me. His forearm presses across my neck choking the life from me.