Page 10 of Devil’s Torture

“What the fuck?” His shouted question was filled with panic and fear. I relished hearing both.

I leaned down and hissed, “What the fuck do you think you’re doing selling my Old Lady?”

He sputtered, trying to hold onto some sort of dominance, “W-wh-what are you talking about?” The nervous laughter that came out of him was not convincing in the least.

“Ron,” I snarled, “you know exactly what I’m talking about.” I clicked my tongue in admonishment. “You sold my girl.”

“No,” he shouted, “no way.”

“I heard you and I heard some assholes talking at the club about you selling her.” I paused and allowed the silence to stretch between us. He tried to pull himself free, but it wasn’t going to happen.

Ever since I was old enough to understand my Bex needed protection, I made sure to be strong enough to make it happen. No matter what.

I had him pinned in place. Easily.

“Ron,” I growled warning was clear. “Tell me the truth.”

Using my grip, I wrenched his head back farther while pulling my knife from the sheath around my leg. I pressed the blade to his neck and he froze in place.

“Fuck,” he gasped, “fine. Martinez won’t let me run my tab up anymore. We struck a deal for my tab being zeroed out and a payout.”

“For Bexley,” I gritted out the words through clenched teeth, the edge of the blade cutting his neck.

“Yes,” he breathed out while clearly trying not to move.

“But you weren’t paid.”

“No.” This time it sounds like a wheeze.

But I heard him.

“So, the deal isn’t done and you still owe Martinez.”

“I don’t have that kind of-,” he started to say, but I didn’t let him finish. I was done listening to him.

And I was done letting him occupy the shadows of Bexley’s life.

My blade sliced across his neck cleanly. It was done before I even realized what I was doing.

For a moment, I froze. I expected to feel some sort of regret. Ron’s life was the first one I ever took.

I was relieved.

Then I realized what I had done and knew I had to pull the club in. I made sure I didn’t leave anything behind and walked out of the apartment.

When I called Lucifer and told him everything, I could feel the tension over the line. “She hasn’t lived here for a while. He’s not a good man and the neighborhood is shit.” I tried reaching for anything I could throw out there to make what I did okay.

“That’s not the point,” Lucifer grunted. “You don’t go out there and do this shit by yourself. Now I’m working from my back foot. Get back to the club and we’ll go from there.”

Lucifer met me in the parking lot and things moved fast. In no time at all I was on the road out of New Orleans and heading to the Charleston chapter because they were having issues and I was starting a new role for the club. Everything changed after that night.

But I made sure Bexley would be taken care of, at least financially.

The first place I go when I finally make it back to the city is to the apartment we lived in ten years ago. It’s the only place I know to look for my woman. Even though I should probably go to the clubhouse first, there’s just no fucking way. I have to see my woman.

That pull. That feeling.

I look at the apartment building for a long time before heading up. The moment I knock, I know something is wrong. Really fucking wrong.