Hound, not seeing the danger, walked right into the clubhouse. Men were behind him, sealing the door, locking him into his fate. She didn’t look at him, holding on to Forge as he looked at his man, his enforcer.

Hound deserved whatever happened, and she hoped he’d suffer.

****

“How is she?” Forge asked, looking toward Dog who’d come down to join him in the basement. Hound was chained to the ceiling. The cuffs keeping him bound tight, no sense of a reprieve. He had yet to touch him. If he laid a finger on him right now, he wouldn’t live long enough to suffer and Forge wanted him to suffer.

“The doc doesn’t know. He’s removed the bullet and repaired the damage but there was a lot of blood loss. She was in and out of consciousness.” Dog shook his head. “What the fuck did she do to you?” He glared at Hound.

“She got in my way, you know that. You know no bitch is supposed to live if they stop your mission.”

Forge didn’t stop Dog as he repeatedly slammed his fists into the man’s guts. He trusted Dog to not hurt him too much. After five minutes, Dog stepped back as Hound spat blood onto the floor.

“Feeling better?” Hound asked. “I don’t know why you care so much. She’s spread her legs for most of the guys in the club. You’re nothing special.”

Forge tensed up as Dog grabbed a knife from the display of torture weapons and placed it against Hound’s stomach.

Silence filled the air.

Tension so tight.

He waited. If Dog disobeyed him, he’d have to be dealt with.

Dog laughed. “I like that you think you can get me to end your sorry existence. Not going to happen. I’m better than you. I thought you were a brother, but you fucked this club over.”

“Everything I did, I did for the club. You’re all fucked in the head, letting some girl get the better of you. Women make you weak. They’re good for two things, fucking and beating. That’s it.”

Forge couldn’t believe he’d never seen the true animal inside his enforcer. It made him sick to his stomach.

“You disgust me.” Dog spat at him and stepped back. “I would never take away the honor of destroying him.” He put the blade down. “Make him hurt, Prez. Make him scream.”

Dog didn’t stick around. He left the basement and Forge turned toward Hound. “So, you believe Beth makes me weak.”

“Look at the way you go chasing after her like a little puppy dog. It’s pathetic. You’re the president of this club. You shouldn’t run for anyone. It’s madness to even believe it.”

“I love her.”

“I know, which is why she had to go. She makes you weak and one day, you’ll see that all I was trying to do was make you strong.”

“You think this is strong?” he asked. “You’re chained up, Hound. You’re not getting out of here alive.”

“They know about her, Forge. They know she’s your weakness. She’ll never be safe.”

“I’ll handle it like I’ve handled everything else over the years.” He walked toward the display of weapons. He loved to torture, to hurt, to draw out every single little fucking detail of information he needed in the most excruciating way possible. He’d done it so many times, sometimes prolonging a person’s life just for fun. He enjoyed it.

Now, he wasn’t happy. He was pissed off. Hound was one of his men. Someone he was supposed to trust, but instead, he’d betrayed him.

Even though Beth was alive and she’d come to him, he knew she was still hurt by what he’d done. He didn’t blame her. He’d hurt her, threatened her, scared her, all in the hope of getting the truth out of her, and it had worked. Only now he felt like a monster because all along it had been one of his men.

Hound. One of his most trusted men, and that pissed him off.

Picking up the knife, he turned to Hound and without waiting, he thrust the blade in deep.

Hound’s screams filled the air.

He wasn’t done. After pulling the knife out, he thrust it into the second leg, twisting it. He made sure he was nowhere near any major artery. The last thing he wanted to do was to end this quickly. Beth had told him what Hound had tried to do. She was only for him. He didn’t share.

For the next few hours, he didn’t really know what the time was or how it had passed. Hound hung lifeless from the ceiling. Some of his flesh cut was away, burned. The blood soaked through his clothing and onto the floor.

Leaving the basement, he arranged for the cleaners to come and take care of the body. He wasn’t even sure when he’d died. Forge had gone into another state, that fucked-up state where all logic vanished away. Moving to the bar, he didn’t touch a single thing. His hands were covered in blood as were his chest and face. None of the brothers said anything as he threw back a shot of whiskey.

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