Deacon (Iron Tzars MC #12) Read Online Marteeka Karland

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Biker, MC Tags Authors: Series: Iron Tzars MC Series by Marteeka Karland
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Total pages in book: 36
Estimated words: 33157 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 166(@200wpm)___ 133(@250wpm)___ 111(@300wpm)
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“What? What are you gonna fucking do?”

“Shit.” I chuckled. I was actually amused at how he was trying to deny what he knew was about to happen. “Surely to God, even you ain’t that fuckin’ stupid.”

I expected him to come off with something else like, “You can’t do this,” or “You’ll never get away with this.” But he just whimpered, trying to move his legs together where I had them tied, spread eagle, to the bed.

“Oh good,” I said with a bright smile. “I see you get it now. Feel free to scream as much as you like.”

I drew out the torture for several days. Figured it was no less than the fucker deserved. Surprisingly, Falcon didn’t protest. He didn’t help in the actual torture, but he got in more than a few good licks. It was his club that had been affected by this bastard as I understood. I could tell some of the things I’d done to Illivitch had gone way past his comfort zone. He hadn’t protested once, though.

I used a secure satellite link to get the information I’d gotten out of Illivitch to Wylde, who promised to have me a hunting destination in twenty-four hours. That was on the sixth day. Falcon objected to more but only because he said the food stores on the boat were out and he wanted a fucking pizza. I didn’t have much of an appetite but I could sympathize. And not because of the mess I’d made of Illivitch. Apple was at the Grim Road compound and she didn’t want me with her. I wasn’t going to listen to her, but it still made me feel a little dead inside knowing how much I’d hurt her. And that she could have died because I wasn’t there to protect her.

“Time to go,” I said. Borris was conscious but barely coherent, and only because I’d taken great pains to not let him pass out. Was hard though. His genitals and anus were in very sorry shape. Only thing I regretted was having to touch the fucker. Thank Christ for surgical grade personal protective equipment because not only was there blood everywhere, the last thing I’d wanted to actually touch was this guy’s junk. “I’d just let you drown or be shark bait, but I don’t like loose ends. Rot in hell, you bastard.” I cut his throat and watched as he finished bleeding out. Too easy as far as I was concerned, but he’d still suffered. It would have to be enough for me. For now anyway. Once I found these other bastards, however, I’d see if I could refine my technique and keep them alive for weeks.

“Boat’s ready whenever you are, Deacon,” Falcon said casually before adding, “Remind me never to piss you off. I think I’d rather deal with Lemon.”

“Some things need to be done. If you think Lemon wouldn’t do the same thing I just did in the same situation, you don’t know your vice president very well.”

“Point taken.”

“Let me set the charges on the hull and we can blow this joint.”

Falcon snorted out a laugh. “You’re gonna fit right in with that family.”

I stilled. “What family?”

“Lemon and Apple. You’re exactly like them. Inappropriate humor and mean as fuck.”

“I’m not their family, Falcon. They ain’t mine.”

“No? That ain’t what Lemon said.”

“Lemon was wrong.”

“Uh-huh.” Falcon clapped me on the shoulder. “Let me know how that works out for you.”

Chapter Four

Apple

I watched from the clubhouse common room as Falcon and Deacon pulled into the compound. Deacon climbed off his bike and stalked inside. There was an intense anger about him. Something I’d never seen from him before. It was like he was a whole different person. He barely even looked like the man I knew. This man was dangerous.

He went straight to Rocket’s office with Falcon following at a slower pace. Falcon glanced in my direction and held my gaze. I tilted my head, narrowing my eyes as I studied him. Falcon just shook his head slightly but continued to Rocket’s office. Whatever had happened wasn’t good.

I shifted where I’d been reclining on one of the sofas. As a rule, I didn’t spend a lot of time on the furniture inside the clubhouse unless it was wooden. Lord only knew whose snatch or spunk would be on anything cloth. But Lemon had had some new furniture set up in one corner of the common room for the old ladies and anyone female who was not a club whore. Double standard maybe, but a line was a line and this was mine.

I sat up and winced as the right side of my torso protested the movement. It had been a week since I’d been shot and I was healing nicely, but I was still in pain and refused anything other than over-the-counter painkillers. I worked through it, breathing away the discomfort as I stood and followed the men to Rocket’s office.


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