Beast (The Soldiers of Wrath MC: Grit Chapter #1)(25)

The security guard dropped to the floor, and Beast went on. In his wake, he attacked any man who tried to stop him, lashing out. In the background, he heard his Brothers following close behind him.

He had a score to settle, one that was going to leave at least two men dead. Beast would make the world safe for Bridget. She had always deserved better. He loved that woman with his whole heart, and he would die for her.

Opening the door, he saw Francis and Rafe, and he drew his gun.

“I hear you’ve got a problem with my woman,” Beast said.

The guards in the room began to draw their weapon. He shot two, but was hit in the arm by the third. Payne, who was close behind him, took him out. Ignoring the burn— it wasn’t the first time he’d been shot— he kept his gaze on Rafe. That fucker was going to die a long, painful death.





Chapter Nineteen




Beast didn’t care that the bullet had torn through his arm. In fact, he liked the fucking pain, got off on it.

“You stupid assholes,” Francis said, but Beast just grinned.

“Get on your knees, motherfuckers.”

With their security down, Francis and Rafe had no other option but to obey. Beast wasn’t stupid though. He couldn’t prolong this because he was sure others were on their way. This needed to end.

He walked up to Rafe, saw the fucker snarl at him, and felt the rage wash through him. Beast curled his hand into a fist and reared it back. He brought his knuckles down across Rafe’s temple, and the man grunted and fell to the side. Before he could right himself, Beast had his hand wrapped around his throat and pulled his ass off the ground. He snarled, staring at the prick eye-to-eye.

“You touched my woman, thought you could threaten her, hurt her ... make her afraid.”

“She’s a bitch—”

Beast growled and head-butted him. Blood immediately started to pour from the fucker’s nose, which had a sadistic smile spreading over Beast’s face.

“Say something else about her, motherfucker.”

Rafe smirked; the asshole wanted to die right now given the way he was acting. “I fucked that bitch until her cunt bled.”

Red covered Beast’s vision, and he heard a low, animalistic growl echo. Without thinking, acting on instinct alone with the need to protect Bridget, to make sure she was safe, Beast lifted his gun and pressed it to Rafe’s head, right between the fucking eyes. “Fuck you,” Beast said before he pulled the trigger. The silencer on the gun dimmed the noise that would have resonated, and he let go of Rafe. The fucker fell to the ground, the bullet hole between his eyes smoking, the blood pouring out from behind his head.

“Bastard,” Francis said, but Payne was in front of the man, putting a bullet in his head, too. Francis fell to the ground beside his son, and for a second, all Beast could do was stare at the two bastards. It had ended too quickly. He should have made them suffer, should have tortured them, pulled off some fingernails and made them eat it. Damn, he could have come up with some fun little things to make those fuckers squeal like pigs.

“We need to get the fuck out of here,” Payne said from beside him.

Beast grunted and nodded, but still he stood there, just watching the blood pool around the dead assholes. Just then his cell rang. He grabbed it, not bothering to check the number, and answered it.

“Yeah?”

“Beast, we have an issue,” Reaper said from the other end, and Beast snapped out of his morbid obsession with the bodies at his feet. “Is Bridget okay?”

She better be okay or the world will come down around me.

“Looks like Rafe and Francis sent a fucker to take her out.”

His heart stopped, and the world faded away as darkness surrounded him.

“Is. She. Okay?” It took every ounce of strength to say the words.

“She’s alive, but she was shot. The doctor is with her now. We kept the fucker that shot her alive —”

Beast hung up before Reaper could say anything else.

“What the fuck?” Payne said, but Beast was already on the move. He didn’t say anything as he made his way out of the casino. One poor bastard tried to stop him, but he broke the fucker’s nose and kept on walking. Once outside, he looked at Payne. “Francis and Rafe sent a hit man to take Bridget out.”

“Is she okay?” Payne asked, concern and anger in his voice.

“She’s been shot but alive. They have the prick that tried to kill her.”

Payne’s face became a mask of rage. “Let’s go take care of him.”

Yeah, they would, and Beast would make sure the asshole did plenty of screaming.



Bridget was alive, and she was so grateful for that, but the pain was like nothing she’d ever experienced.

“I’m giving you these for the pain. Take one every four hours as needed. They’ll take the pain away, but they will also knock you out.”

Bridget looked at the doctor who had come to the clubhouse. His hair was disheveled, and the tux he wore looked like he’d just come from a party. He also smelled faintly of alcohol, but his gaze was clear, and his touch was gentle.

She looked down at her arm, seeing blood begin covering the bandage wrapped around her arm.

“You might see some blood on the bandage, but nothing substantial. The bullet went right through, so it should heal nicely.”