Page 27 of Hostile Tyranny


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Suddenly, I was grabbing a chair and throwing it through the air. “That fucking asshole!”

As soon as it hit the wall with a splintering crash, Sting came running out of the kitchen door, screaming.

My damaged brother ran out the front door as the rest of us ran into the kitchen. On the wall was a message that sent my temper to insane heights. Staring at the one word, KABOOM, taking up a whole wall, I shook with the need for revenge. “Someone was in here.” I shouted demands. To Meth, I said, “Go get my cowardly brother.” To the rest, I insisted, “Search every room, top to bottom, and lock up our intruder.” Then I jogged out of the kitchen and front door.

The sun blinded me slightly, but I saw Meth trying to catch up with Sting.

We had lots of land, but I couldn’t take the chance of Sting leaving the property and being seen without a plan in place. I had a club to save. Rules still had to be followed. I regretted I’d have to lock up my brother for a while as punishment.

Sorry, Sting—

A burst of energy had my thoughts interrupted and my body catapulting threw the air.

After slamming down to the ground, I lay there until I heard Sting screaming for me.

So he’d know I was alright, I forced my stunned body to its wobbly feet.

Slowly, I turned to see fire, smoke, and cash fluttering down into the blaze where my clubhouse stood seconds ago.

Absolutely fuming, my body felt like a stiff board of fury. “That. Fucking. Assassin.”

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