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“I’m sorry about your sister,” Slade said. “This will get handled accordingly.”
“Oh, fuck off,” Nelle growled at him. “Don’t give me your macho shit right now. You and your fucking outlaw guys did this. Calista is right. This is your fault.”
“I can’t say one way or another if that’s true,” Slade said.
“They were trying to kill someone in your club!” Calista cried. “They shot Thalia by accident! She’s gone forever! You pieces of shit!”
Someone had gotten closer, holding a phone in their hand. Dressed in black, pretending to be mourning at another gravesite.
“I’ll be back in a second,” Slade said.
He walked between the two sisters, forcing them apart.
He glanced to his left, looking down at Nelle. Cemetery setting or not, her insane beauty and fierce eyes made his cock rustle in his jeans.
The guy standing at the gravesite next to them tried to turn. Slade grabbed the back of his neck with ease and pulled him closer.
“Give me the phone or I’m going to dig a hole right here and put you in it. You fucking slime. Trying to take videos of two sisters mourning their lost sister.”
“You can’t touch me,” the man said. “I’m a—”
Slade squeezed the man’s neck harder. He groaned and gave up the phone.
“Just delete the video,” the man said.
“Did you just tell me what to do?” Slade asked. “Oh, you fucking moron, nobody tells me what to do.”
“Shit. I’m sorry. I’m…”
Slade pulled the guy back some more and kicked out the backs of his legs. The guy fell to the ground. Slade put a big boot right to the guy’s chest and held him down.
“He was recording you two,” Slade said to Nelle and Calista. “You might want to look away at the next part, sweethearts.”
Before giving either sister a chance to figure out what that meant, Slade picked up his foot and stomped down on the guy’s face.
Really. Fucking. Hard.
Cartilage popping and tearing like bubble wrap, the guy’s nose rested flat and to the right on his face. Blood squirting and pouring like someone crushing grapes in a tub to make jelly or wine. Just one stomp though. After all, Slade wasn’t that much of a monster…
Slade then turned and broke the phone in his hand off the edge of the headstone. He glanced down at the headstone.
“My apologies, Mr. and Mrs. Denison,” he said, putting his hands together for a second.
He then met eyes with Nelle.
He couldn’t help once again but think about those lips moving up and down his pulsing shaft. Staring down into her honey colored eyes as she sucked him. The full head of his cock playing with the back of her throat.
From the corner of his eye he saw Chief Dick Rundle walking toward Cyrus and Linc.Fuck, Slade thought. He had to pack the thought of Nelle away into what Priest loved to call aspank bank.
It was time to handle some club and outlaw business with the corrupt chief of police.
“How’s Nova handling things?” Cyrus asked Linc.
“She has her moments,” Linc said. “This life is hard to get used to. You think you have it figured out and something else happens.”
“Fucking right about that,” Fitz said as he handed Linc a fresh bottle of beer. “Cheers.”
“She’ll be fine,” Custer called out. “Old ladies know how to adapt. That’s what women do. They’re adaptable creatures.”
