The Disciples Short Stories Vol 1 Read Online Izzy Sweet, Sean Moriarty

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, BDSM, Erotic, Mafia Tags Authors: ,
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Total pages in book: 18
Estimated words: 17773 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 89(@200wpm)___ 71(@250wpm)___ 59(@300wpm)
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Slamming the asshole’s head up against the emergency back door, I grin when it doesn’t immediately start the loud blaring alarm.

Not that I would have cared anyways, but it shows Simon did as I asked of him.

He cut the camera feeds and ensured I had an exit point.

Moving quickly now with the openly weeping man beside me, I push us to the trunk of my BMW.

“What do you want, man?” he screeches out at me in the darkness.

Remaining silent, I slam the pistol into the side of his head and watch as his bitch-ass body collapses to the pavement.

Popping the trunk of my car, I grunt a little as I lift him into the back and slam down the lid.

It’s been awhile since I’ve been to the run-down motel we used to use for our little family fun times. But not long enough for me to forget the smell of copper and piss the place oozes out of its pores.

Clint Jackson, the asshole with a pocket full of bad intentions, is strapped down to a chair and slowly coming back to his senses.

Looking at the drugs on the little desk I’m sitting at, I can’t believe someone would have the balls to do the shit he does. Laid before me is a small bottle of liquid GHB and some powdered shit. There’s also cocaine, but whatever. This asshole has raped women before, there’s no doubt in my mind about that.

I have no clue how many lives he’s shattered, but he’ll never do it again.

Standing up from the desk to pace, my body is strumming with rage and something much worse. It’s feeling the ache of what could have happened to Sophia. I doubt this piece of shit was going to give up easily if she didn’t take the drink.

“Do you know,” I ask the wobbling asshole, “just how many night’s I’ve spent protecting her?”

“What?” he slurs out at me.

Fucker’s probably got a concussion from how hard I hit him. He deserves much worse but I can’t touch him yet.

I’m too fucking angry.

“Do you even fucking understand how beneath the word man you are?” I shout at him as I move closer.

Shaking his head, he tries to focus on me as he asks, “Man, what are you…”

“Just this fucking morning, I woke up fucking sweating and reaching for my gun! I was wrapped around a fucking body pillow because in my head some stupid fuck was trying to hurt her,” I scream at him.

My throat hurts, but I can’t stop. I’ve bottled this damn shit up for too long. I need a release valve of some sort.

“She’s one of the pure ones, you tiny-dick fuck,” I bellow and slam my foot into his naked ballsack.

His screams aren’t music to my ears, it’s just a fucking background noise against the chorus of demons raging in my head.

“I’ve watched over her, I’ve protected her. I’ve fucking pined away like some fucking lovesick schoolgirl for her,” I snarl out, spittle all over the place “But you… You decided to say, fuck all that shit and want to drug her and what? Rape her with your tiny pathetic little micro dick?”

Leaning down, I yank the tactical military knife out of the sheath I laid on the table.

Walking over to him, I reach down and grab his tiny little pecker, growling, “With this little thing?”

Slicing it cleanly off at the root, I toss it over my shoulders.

Then I lean in and watch as he screams and weeps.

His pain doesn’t soothe me. It doesn’t bring the silence I yearn for in my body. It only enrages me further.

Because it reminds me even more just how much I don’t get to have Sophia.

I don’t get Sophia.

I don’t get her because I’m the one who has to protect her. I’m the one who has to hide in the background of her life.

I don’t get her because she’s pure, and I’m soiled and unclean.

Lifting the shithead’s head up from where it fell to his chest, I stare into his weeping eyes as I take my knife to his throat.

“I don’t get to have her, and neither do you. Ever. I’ll see you in hell, motherfucker,” I say quietly to him.

Shoving the knife in the side of his neck, I saw it back and forth as I rip it towards me.

Blood splatters and arcs the short distance from him to my face and chest as I work.

It’s my job in life to do the bad things, so that I can keep her safe.

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