Beast (The Soldiers of Wrath MC: Grit Chapter #1)(27)

“What? There’s nothing wrong with getting what we want. He’s a perfect canvas to do your worst.” Reaper stepped away from the man, and Beast stepped forward.

“Francis is dead,” Beast said.

“Then let me the fuck go.”

“You’ve got no chance. You hurt my woman, shot her through the shoulder.”

“I was aiming for her head.”

Beast lashed out, landing blows to the man’s body. His rage consumed him, and he wanted to fucking kill the bastard. There was no control in what he was doing. He was going to slaughter this fucker.

Stepping back a few minutes later, the man was laughing, and he spit blood out. “I wonder if I’m the only one coming after the little slut.”

“Beast, you’re great at many things, but leave this to us,” Grim said. “The fucker likes to run his mouth, apparently.”

The piece of shit was hung up and still being cocky. Beast was a fighter, not a torturer, but for Bridget, and what the man had done to her, he’d make sure this little waste of space paid in blood and screams.

Grim and Reaper knew what they were doing, and Beast knew they’d give the would-be killer a nice little taste of what he was really facing.

The twins did rock, paper, scissors, which Grim won. He watched as Grim grabbed a small scalpel from the medical try.

“This is a bitch of a weapon. People don’t realize how sharp these fuckers are, not until I take them to their skin. They’re fucking brilliant.” Grim sliced the blade down the man’s face.

Beast watched as Grim did a few more slices, whistling as if he was making a piece of art rather than slicing a man up. Beast had never been into torture porn, but the truth was he was getting a hell of a lot of pleasure in seeing this piece of shit hurting.

Next, Reaper had his turn, only this time, the Patch used pliers on the man’s cock, which had Beast wincing.

He didn’t give a shit about the pain the killer was in, not when he’d attempted to take Bridget’s life. No one would take his woman from him.

“Beast, sorry to interrupt your fun, Bridget wants to see you,” King said, coming downstairs and smirking at the scene. “You two fuckers are nasty.”

“You got it for now?” Beast asked.

“You want him still breathing when you get back?”

“Yes. I want to see him look at me when he dies.”



Bridget heard the man’s screams, and knew it was the man who tried to kill her. If Beast hadn’t wanted her to hear, he should have taken the man away from the clubhouse. None of the men would tell her what was going on, and without Beast, she felt lost.

She was in his room at the clubhouse, and her shoulder burned even with the pain medicine.

“What’s the matter, baby?” Beast asked, coming into the room.

He wasn’t wearing his leather cut or a shirt as he walked toward her. She saw the fresh blood and a few cuts on his knuckles.

“I wanted to see you. What’s that noise?”

“You know what that noise is.”

“You’re going to kill him?” she asked.

“Baby, you know the answer to that. Don’t even think of trying to stop me, of rationalizing keeping that bastard alive. He almost killed you, and if he’d gotten the shot right, we wouldn’t be sitting talking right now.”

She swallowed and nodded, knowing he was right, knowing this was the reality of their world. “What happened with Francis and Rafe?”

“They’re gone.” He sat on the edge of the bed, taking hold of her hand. “No one is ever going to hurt you again. I won’t let them.”

Bridget didn’t care.

That realization surprised her, and she told him.

“I don’t care that you killed them. They were fucking disgusting human beings, and the more I think about the work I did, the worse it is. I hate it. I helped them, and I’m never going to be able to take back my help.” Tears filled her eyes.

“I’m not giving you up, baby. You’re mine, and even though I’m about to kill the man who hurt you, you’re not going anywhere, do you understand?” he asked.

“I don’t want to go anywhere. I love you, Beast.”

She moved to wrap her arm around him. Her other arm was bound tightly against her body. Beast surprised her as he took care of her, holding her close, being gentle.

The masculine scream echoed around the house.

“This killer doesn’t exactly have a strong pain threshold,” Beast said. “Grim and Reaper are showing him a very warm welcome from the Grit Chapter.”

“I don’t want to know what you mean about that,” she said.

“No, but I’ve got to go and finish this, for us. We can make plans tomorrow. Rest, relax, and sleep. I’ll protect you.”

He kissed her temple and left the bedroom

For the first time in her life, she was truly happy, even with the tortured cries coming from the basement.





Chapter Twenty-One




Beast stood there a moment, staring at the man bound, bleeding, and halfway to death already. Blood covered Beast’s face, hands, and even his chest. Grim and Reaper had gone to work on the would-be killer, taking chunks out of his flesh and soul, making him cry, piss himself, and wish he’d never taken the job to kill Beast’s old lady.