Page 12 of Your Daddy Does It Better
The fucker is rummaging through the drawers in my kitchen. Not sure what the prick thinks he’ll find here.
For a big guy, I can be quiet when I need to be. It probably comes from years of making myself invisible so I didn’t get the shit kicked out of me by my father.
The fucker doesn’t even know I’m in the room. I’m slightly offended that an idiot like this broke into my apartment. He turns to the side, and I realize how fucked up everything is.
Brike McCain, my son’s so-called childhood best friend. The kid was so insane that no one would mess with him other than Paul, who saw the value in a kid like Brike. A stupid brute of a man who craved violence and mayhem more than Paul did. He treated Brike like a brother, a compatriot, and a partner. And for that, Brike pledged his undying loyalty to my son.
“Still not man enough to live your life, huh, Clive?”
Brike flings his body around, eyes wide and nostrils flared. A snarl escapes his mouth. “Looks like you wanna die, old man, because any motherfucker who says that name doesn’t live to see another day.”
“Young buck, I don’t think you grasp who the fuck I am.” My eyes flicker to the fish tank at the side of the room with three piranhas swimming in rapid succession, waiting for their next meal. “The last man who threatened my life became fish food.”
Brike steps forward, his lips turning up in a cocky smile. “I’m not some old geezer who can’t defend himself. They say you were a badass, but money and comfort made you a pathetic chump.”
An ear-piercing scream echoes in the darkness. His blood splashes against the wall, landing on the fridge and the microwave. Brike stumbles back, dropping the blade and cradling the side of his head bashed in by the now blood-stained bat.
“Shame I had to ruin this piece of art,” I sigh.
I kick him in the gut before I hit him with the bat again. I place it carefully on the island. “I’m pretty pissed about having to use a weapon,” I say, gripping him by the collar and pummelling his face until crimson circles his head like a fucked-up halo.
I grip Brike’s hair and haul his head back, ensuring his eyes are glued to me as I dip my fingers in his blood and suck them clean. “Brike, who do you think the OG hot-head psycho was in the neighborhood? Who could fuck a man up for simply breathing in his direction?”
Rising, I keep my grip on Brike’s hair and drag him toward the fish tank. “Hope you’re hungry, boys.”
“No,” Brike slurs as he desperately tries to squirm out of my grasp. “No, man. I’m sorry. I won’t say shit. Just let me go.”
“Thing is, Brike. You disrespected me by breaking into my home, and I am a man who prides himself on making an example of anyone who dares to disrespect me.”
Yanking him by the head, I bring him over to the aquarium and smile. “This way, any other motherfucker who comes my way will know what awaits them.”
He thrashes as I hold his head in the tank, watching as the fish open wide and satiate their hunger with chunks of Brike’s flesh.
His nose bobs past in the water as chunks of his skin and blood flood the tank. “This is gonna have to do for a while, boys, so eat up.”
Once Brike stops squirming, I leave his prone body leaning over the tank and return to the kitchen. I pull out one of the burners and text the only number in the contacts.
Clean up. My place. I’m going to one of the safe houses. I’ll text you with instructions when I’m on the road.
ChapterEleven
ISLA
Bryce rushed me out of his apartment in the middle of the night. He didn’t give me a choice, shoving clothes at me and ushering me into a black sedan.
The drive is long, and the view is full of picturesque nature. I’m pretty sure we’re going somewhere upstate.
“What’s this place,” I ask as Bryce opens the car door.
He grips my hand and helps me out of the car. “It’s a safe house.”
“Why do we need a safe house?”
“Because we weren’t safe,” he says dryly, and I can’t help but laugh.
“You’ve got a pretty laugh. You should do it more often.”
“Then give me something to laugh about.”
