Bed of Roses by Harley McRide Read Free Book Online Page B

and the funds that came from side security jobs for local businesses, the Devils’ territory was the second largest in the United States with chapters being established up into Canada.
    The doors opened and damn near twenty Mexicans piled out. “Cockroaches,” he whispered under his breath. They unloaded the crates out of the back, opening them to reveal their lute—the Devils’ weapon shipment. Tonto passed a glance to his left to Duke, another patched member. He shared the same scowl on his face as Tonto. It was time to show these bastards not to fuck with the Savages. Tonto gave the signal, sending the Devils into action. Before the Diablos knew what hit them, the sound of guns being fired filled the air, dropping their numbers to even the playing field. Sandman, Colt, Rugger, Twelve Gage, Bull, and Duke stepped out into view, encircling them and blocking off any escape route they might have.
    Tonto strolled out casually, tomahawk swinging at his side. “Well, well. Look what crawled into our territory with our weapons, boys.”
    “ Si , fuck you, amigo . These are ours now. The Diablos are moving in. First we take your guns, your territory, then your bitches,” the short stocky dude who had stepped up as leader drawled in a thick Spanish thug accent. His age along with his banger attitude revealed his status as unessential. Of course the pansy fuckers wouldn’t send anyone of importance to do the dirty work.
    “Big words for someone staring death in the eye, chilito . Tell me, how does one get such big cajones as your non-English speaking muther fuckers call them?” Sandman laughed, calling him a little dick, then making a mental note to castrate the fuck before he killed him.
    “Go back to the reservation, Injun, and leave the hard stuff to the pros. You had your land taken once, we’re here to do it again, punta .” The little cocksucker's corny Indian reference was far from intimidating.
    "We will see who's the pussy in the end," Tonto smirked, then nodded at Sandman, giving him permission to inflict a little incentive on the beaner.
    Sandman smiled and stepped forward, folding the Mexican to his knees in one punch. The others tried to come to his aid, only to have the barrel of a gun shoved against the back of their head until their weapons dropped and they froze. Kick after kick Sandman pommeled the guy, stopping every counter with a complex move of his own. He was trained in mixed martial arts, and was one of the best fighters in the country, holding three title belts.
    Tonto stopped him after every rib was broke and the man lay gasping and gurgling blood. “Now, care to tell me where your headquarters is located, punta ? I want to have a little talk with your leader…”
    “Fuck you, Injun. I ain’t tellin’ you shit. You think a little blood is gonna get to me? Go to hell.” He crawled to his feet, taking a swing at Sandman. The massive beast laughed, took his blade out, and sliced him from his eye to the edge of his throat. The gash cut through the muscle, fileting it open.
    “You scream like a little bitch.” Sandman stepped back, observing his work. It was definitely an improvement. “Now, tell us where your leader is and I’ll kill you quick. If you don’t, I’m going to take my time, making sure you feel every agonizing minute as I skin the brown off your enchilada eating ass.”
    “Fuck. You,” he spat, spraying blood with each word.
    “I hoped you’d say that.” Sandman stepped up, motioning for two of the Prospects to hold him down. With one swipe, he sliced off the man’s t-shirt, leaving his bare chest and arms open. He started at the man’s wrist and made a long cut up his arm before proceeding to skin the appendage down to the muscles. Screams tore through the air and the others fought to run to his aid, only to be immobilized by the Devils brute strength. As each minute passed, another section of flesh was removed, leaving nothing but a bloody half-dead corpse. Once he