Never Have an Outlaw's Baby (Deadly Pistols MC #3)(140)

I checked every little twitch in the bastard's face, listened to every note in his voice when he begged for his life. His eyes were bulging, but I wasn't choking him so bad they wouldn't work. The butler just flailed around like any * screaming for mercy when I dragged him through the kitchen, the big sitting room, the dining room, and then back to where we'd started. He didn't reveal shit.

Fuck! Where the f*ck is he, *? Lead me home.

Lev and Daniel looked at me impatiently. They were just as pissed as I was Gioulio hadn't turned up yet, and this latest stunt looked like f*cking insanity. I thought I'd lost my mind too until I absentmindedly shoved the human scarecrow against the banister.

He stomped his feet, looking over my shoulder nervously a couple times. What the f*ck was back there? I couldn't believe we'd missed the ratty looking wooden door, something narrow and old, straight outta the fifties.

Bingo. I dropped him on the floor and listened to him struggle for breath while I tore open the mystery door. It led down deep, branching off at one level into the house's basement, and then going deeper.

The air was too warm and dry for a boring old wine cellar. The old door popped open with a jerk. Inside, it looked like a total rat hole lined with linoleum and sleek metal filing cabinets.

A shadow moved between them and fired my way. Fuck!

I ducked, rolled on the floor, and returned fire. Some f*cker screamed when one bullet found its mark on his calf. I quickly checked to make sure I was in one piece – sometimes when you're shot and hopped up on this much adrenaline, you don't realize it 'til you keel over.

Everything was still in one piece. Perfect. I stayed low to the ground and ran, diving for the legs in the gray trousers when I swept around the corner.

Gioulio got about two more shots off before I beat the gun outta his hands. They both went wild, embedded themselves in the old decrepit wall. Then I nearly did the same to him, slamming him so f*cking hard on the old concrete his bones clacked like the hood ornament I'd bounced in the garage.

Our eyes locked. Bastard looked smug as the devil I expected, smiling through the pain from the hole I'd torn in his leg. Nobody ever looked like that when they were well and truly f*cked.

Shit. He wasn't alone.

In one movement, I swung him around, using his pale body like a human shield. My gun lined up with the side of his head and I fired, careful not to graze his skull – not just yet. He had a bullet with his name on it for later.

The goon who'd had his gun trained on me dropped. Now, for the first time, the f*ckhead in my arms began shaking. We moved, and I flattened him against the filing cabinets, satisfied with the way his spine crunched when I slammed him on the metal.

Fuck. Only about three minutes left, the clock in my head reminded me. We had to make this fast.

Gioulio didn't say a word. His dark, hateful, arrogant eyes said enough. I watched his jaw working, realizing he had one more surprise to take care of.

“Oh, no, motherf*cker. No. You. Don't.”

I reached into his wretched mouth and held his jaw open like a dog. He tried to bite my fingers off as I wrestled around for five obscene seconds, pulling the little glass capsule outta his mouth. It rolled on the floor next to my foot and I slammed my heel down on it.

He hadn't bitten into the cyanide, or else he'd be seizing in my arms. Good. The * howled, screamed, despair setting in as he realized I'd just slammed his last escape hatch shut.

My fists went to work. I pistol whipped him near the temple for my old man, remembering the way the f*cked up hit tore papa up, reliving the night I found his body bloodied and dead.

Three more blows on both sides of his head for the girls he'd enslaved and pimped to those sick motherf*ckers. Didn't know how the f*ck we'd set them free, but we'd find a way once his crew was in chaos. Daniel and Lev promised me they'd do it.

I didn't know how many women he'd trafficked. Probably dozens. Unfortunately, those three blows had to make do for all of them. Anything more, and his old skull might shatter underneath my fists.

I clenched my gun like a heavy rock, and stopped just short of pounding it right through the top of his head, into his sadistic brain.

Shit, shit. Hold on. Just a little while longer.

I froze my killer instinct, shaking from the effort. The fear in Gioulio's eyes faded as they rolled, went white, and the last resistance in his muscles faded like a balloon losing its helium.

He was out cold. I grabbed him by the neck and dragged him up those stairs, quickly as I could. It wasn't easy. Every muscle in my body strained to haul his ass up. He'd been a muscular man in his younger years, but he'd clearly let it go, packing on fat while his strength faded like a bloated f*cking guard dog in retirement.

Soon as I burst through the door, D and Lev were on me, helping me haul him to the main floor. Daniel aimed his gun at the ceiling and fired a few shots, screaming at the cowering servants. “Go! Get your asses out of here! And don't you think once about calling your boys outside or the goddamned cops.”

The servants took off in all directions, screaming up the stairs and into the kitchen. Who could blame them after they'd spent the last five minutes wondering if it was their last?

Five minutes. Fuck!

Time was running out. My brothers and I hauled ass through the house, heading for the spa and gigantic pool in the back. We saw dark shapes lingering near the hill. My gun was drawn, ready to shoot our way out, even though we'd be f*cked if we took any more delays. We were too f*cking close.