Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 55782 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 279(@200wpm)___ 223(@250wpm)___ 186(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55782 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 279(@200wpm)___ 223(@250wpm)___ 186(@300wpm)
I make back to the rathouse and I am just in time for the fun to begin. See, we call it the rathouse because we built a wall behind the room, reinforced with steel. My dad and his brothers, had a bunch of rats, bred in laboratories and from the street, brought in and dropped inside that room. There are sprinkler like pipes overhead, that line the room, down the corridor, also encased in steel, so the rats can’t climb it or eat their way through it, and into another room called the bait room. This is the room where we trap our enemies and bait the rats into it. They come through a trapdoor, much like a much smaller doggie door. Have you seen hundreds of rats savagely gnawing at its meal? Eating the flesh off their victims, as the still breathing corpse screams and begs for help? Yea. Not for the faint of heart.
“Where are they?” I ask putting my gloves on. We don’t go in that room without removing our shoes and putting on gloves making sure to never touch the walls or the people we have in them.
“Secured to the floor.”
“You guys are free to go. Just make sure the cleaning crew knows to come by here tomorrow and rebate the rats back into the cage.”
“The remains?” Manny asks.
“We haven’t paid the farm a visit in a while. I’m sure the boars would love an extra treat.” They nod as they walk out, putting their shoes back on and removing their gloves. I take a second, relishing in what is about to happen. My mind on Lexi, wondering if she is really going to be ok knowing that I killed her father. Not that it matters. When you try to harm my woman and my family, you die. Maybe the devil would have mercy on you, but I ain’t him.
Walking into the room, I take in the fact that they are both tied to the floor, not sure what is happening, clothes and body soaked from the bate dripping down from overhead. Maybe, if I were a halfway decent man, I would feel something for these bastards, but nope. Nothing. “So, you thought you could take me out huh. Try to take my wife from me. Is that what you thought?” I circle them like a lion does his prey, the veins in my neck alerting them to their fate. Her dad shakes his head back and forth unable to speak. At this point, I have no desire to hear anything. “I want this to be the last thing you remember: what is going to happen to your wives with you two gone? Neither of them is worth anything. Think maybe they will have to sell themselves like the girls you force to do that every day?” I barely stop myself from yelling. They both are struggling, trying to fight to get up. “Don’t worry. I don't hurt women and children. What happens to them, will be as a result of your actions. Your son on the other hand, Ransom, consider him torched.” With that I release the switch and walk out of the room. The last sound I hear is of them screaming, before I shut the warehouse door and lock it not giving them a second thought.
Time to go back to my wife.
27
Lexi
Six Weeks Later
It has been six weeks since the shootout and to say I am frustrated, is an understatement. Not because my husband killed my father. I mean don’t get me wrong, I had some conflicting feelings about it and not because I was upset. I told him to take care of it. He tried to kill my husband, putting me and my baby in jeopardy. Let’s face it, he never loved me anyway. My mother on the other hand, never even tried to reach out to me after everything happened. I heard from a few people here and there, that she went back to Montana where she is from. Sayonara is what I say. I am moving on with my life. The real issue is something else.
I am frustrated because once I got discharged from the hospital, the doctor said we had to take it easy for at least the first four weeks to give myself a chance to heal and to make sure the baby is going to be ok. I understood that. Would never want anything to happen to my baby. The problem is, no one told me that being pregnant was going to make me extra horny. I am horny all the time. I don’t even bother wearing panties anymore because I just end up throwing them away with how drenched they always are.
I tried giving Saxson a blowjob in the third week of recovery and he acted like I had the Ebola virus or something. I have never seen a man jump up out of his seat so fast and hightail it into the restroom. It would have been humorous if I wasn’t so fucking needy. He won’t touch me, other than a kiss to the forehead, and he won’t let me touch him. I was so worked up and emotional one day, I cried. I mean like really cried. I accused him of having an affair since he obviously didn’t want me anymore. The jerk looked me in my face and made it worse. “Baby, your body needs no more stress. What do you think happens to it, when you get worked up like that? I am looking out for you and the baby. Don’t you know I haven’t noticed another woman since I laid eyes on you?” Well this made me cry even worse which he felt proved his point. See. Jerk.