Breathing (Ruined #6) Read Online T.O. Smith

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Biker, MC, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Ruined Series by T.O. Smith
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Total pages in book: 37
Estimated words: 33998 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 170(@200wpm)___ 136(@250wpm)___ 113(@300wpm)
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“Always works like a fucking charm.”

We tied his arms and legs together before dragging him out of the bed, letting his body thump roughly to the floor. Not giving a fuck about how rough I was being, I dragged his heavy body down the stairs, letting his body thump on each step. Vern was snickering when I rounded the corner to the front door.

The son was awake, his face pale, his chest heaving. There was a dark stain on the front of his pants, and I barked out a laugh. “Fuck, kid, you already pissed yourself? The fun hasn’t even started yet,” I told him.

His face paled to the point I thought he might pass out, and he whimpered. And then farted.

Ink jumped back with a grimace, and I dropped Richard, folding in half to fully laugh. The boy started crying and blubbering, so Vern shoved a bandana in his mouth and tied it around his head to shut him up.

“Alejandro is sending three men to do clean up,” Joey announced after he put his burner away. “Let’s get these fuckers in the van.”

I grabbed Richard just as he began waking up. Immediately, he started flopping around, closely resembling a fish. I sighed and stood back with my hands on my hips, staring down at him.

“You’re not getting out of those,” I told him.

“Fuck you,” he seethed, his teeth gritted and his eyes bulging out of his head from rage.

I just grinned before Joey and I wrenched him up from the ground and carried him over to the van. It wasn’t easy with him wiggling, and he wouldn’t stop yelling for help. But no one was coming for him since he was the one that decided to live in the middle of nowhere on an extremely private property surrounded by trees, thinking he would forever be untouchable.

It was the perfect location because no one would ever hear him scream.

The spot we found on Richard’s land was set back in the woods and required us to drive to the back of the property. The van only went so far, and from there, we had to make the trek on foot. I dragged Richard’s heavyset ass through all the brush, letting all the limbs smack him that I could. Finally, we emerged in the tiny clearing, and I dropped Richard to the ground just as thunder rumbled overheard.

I smirked down at him when he flinched. “Ironic, isn’t it?” I asked as I pulled my knife out of the sheath on my belt. “Isn’t this the kind of weather you beat the fuck out of my wife in?”

“She’s not your wife,” he seethed. “She’s my brother’s wife.”

“Really?” I retorted. “Because according to the local news, he was found dead in his car, wrapped around a tree, wasn’t he? Can’t have a wife if you’re dead.”

He bared his teeth at me. I crouched in front of him and tipped his chin up with the blade of my knife, nicking his skin. He swallowed thickly, trembling now. “Cannon is mine. And anyone who fucks with her will bleed out at my feet. So, you know what that means for you?”

“P-please,” he blubbered. Change of tune when I held his life in my hands.

I snickered. “I bet Cannon didn’t even beg, and yet here you are, pleading as if I give a fuck. My woman has got bigger fucking balls than you do.”

Then, I plunged the knife into his thigh. His blood-curdling scream was music to my ears and sent a sadistic warmth rushing through my veins. Grabbing my other knife out of my boot, I cut his shirt open and began to slice into him like he was nothing more than an animal led to the slaughter. Except most animals were shown more care—were killed before they were slaughtered so they wouldn’t feel the pain.

But he was worse than an animal. Below them. Unworthy of them.

Blood spilled from his lips as he cried and pleaded with God, but God didn’t exist here. There was nothing but me, my brothers, and the devil with all his demons.

I gripped his neck and pulled his upper body up so our noses brushed. He sobbed. I tilted my head to the side so our faces were next to each other. “Tell Satan I said hi,” I whispered in his ear before I slit his throat—slowly. Oh, so slowly. He gurgled, his eyes wide as he choked on his own blood. Standing back to my full height, I loomed over him, grinning until the life in his eyes died and he stared blankly back up at me.

I wiped the blood off my knife using his shirt and tucked it back into my boot before yanking my bigger knife out of his thigh, cleaning it off the same way before tucking it back into its sheath on my hip.


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