Lucien's War

Evernight
Publishing
®

www.evernightpublishing.com

Copyright©
2014
Jenika
Snow

 
ISBN: 978-1-77233-120-2

Cover Artist: Sour Cherry Designs

Editor:
Karyn
White

ALL RIGHTS
RESERVED

WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this
copyrighted work is illegal.
 
No part of
this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written
permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are
fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or
persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

DEDICATION

This is dedicated to all the readers, and the Crescent Snow Street Team.
Thank you all for your support, kind words, and for wanting to read my crazy
stories.
 

LUCIEN’S WAR

The Brothers of Menace, 3

Jenika
Snow

Copyright ©
2014

Chapter
One

Lucien
stood against the garage wall, the cigarette he shouldn’t be smoking hanging
from between his lips, and staring at the man currently strung up like a tied
hog. The man Cain had brought to the clubhouse was the same one that had nearly
raped Cain’s now-adult daughter
years
ago. Cain had
been in prison for the last nine years, locked up for killing this exact
bastard. Someone had called the cops before he could finish the guy off, and
the other MC member had held the rage inside, just waiting until he was
released so he could finish the job. Lucien couldn’t even imagine being a
father and having some fucker force himself on his little girl. It didn’t
matter that
Fallina
was twenty-five now, or that she
was doing well in her life and teaching. She had still had to go through that,
and Cain hadn’t gotten the vengeance he desperately needed.

Well,
he was getting it now.

Cain
had done the beating, and although they had been in this garage behind the
clubhouse for the last few hours, Cain was unstoppable. The fucker, who looked
nearly dead as it was, had his arms above his head, a piece of rope secured
around his wrists, and was hanging suspended from one of the beams. He was
passed out at the moment but Cain walked over to grab a bucket of ice water
Kink had brought him, and threw it on the man. The would-be rapist sputtered
and came back to consciousness. Cain took a step back, took off the once white
tee he wore, which was now stained red from blood, and tossed it aside. Lucien
inhaled from his cigarette and blew the smoke out softly until a cloud covered
his vision. It dispersed, and he watched as Cain grabbed a pair of brass
knuckles from the workbench, slipped them on, and moved back to the guy.

“Please,
stop. I was drunk,” the man sputtered out. Blood dripped out of his nose and
mouth, and fell onto his chest and the ground.

Cain
swung out without answering, and connected the brass knuckles with the man’s
face. He howled out in pain, struggled on his bonds, but then started to slowly
still. Blood was a continuous flow from him, and a small pool was now on the
floor beneath him.

“My
daughter kept saying stop, didn’t she? And if I hadn’t come when I did you
would have damaged her even more than you already did.” Cain said in a deadly
calm voice. “But you didn’t stop for
Vi
—” Cain stopped
talking right away. He shook his head, inhaled deeply for a moment, and Lucien
wondered what he had been about to say. The rage on Cain’s face over this
situation was the fiercest Lucien had ever seen on a brother. Malice moved up
beside Cain, handed him the bottle of whiskey, and then moved back toward Kink,
who was leaning against the other side of the building.

“The
guy’s about to take a dive, brother,” Lucien said, took one more inhale from
his cigarette, and then dropped it on the floor to snub it out. “If you don’t
finish him off he’ll die from blood loss or shock, and you’ll miss giving him
that final blow.”

Cain
nodded, took another drink from the bottle of liquor while he stared at the man
he was about to end, and then set the bottle on the floor. “You’re right. I
better end this now before this fucker passes out again and can’t feel how I
make the last seconds of his life even more painful.” He went over to the
workbench again, grabbed a nine-inch serrated hunting knife, and walked over to
the man, who was struggling to breathe now. Most likely blood was starting to
pool in his lungs, so Cain needed to be quick before the motherfucker
suffocated in his own fluids. Cain grabbed the guy’s chin, turned his swollen
and beaten face up so he was forced to look at Cain, and bared his teeth.

“If
you would have died nine years ago when I had you, your death would have been
far quicker. But for the last nine years while I was locked away all I could
picture was all the ways I was going to take your life.” Cain took the blade
and ran it along each side of the asshole’s face. The skin opened up instantly,
but there wasn’t much sound that came from the man.

He
would be dead soon either at Cain’s hands, or because his body had had enough.

“You
made my daughter afraid for a long fucking time, and although she is strong and
living her life now,
your
fucking existence still
haunts her.” Cain stabbed the man in the gut. “Your death won’t make her feel
any better, because she won’t know what happened. I can’t tell her what I did,
but she will know that her fear doesn’t need to control her anymore.” Cain
moved the blade up, opening up the prick’s stomach like a hot knife going
through butter. “I could have let you live your life with the shame of what you
did to my daughter, and probably other young girls, but killing you will sate
this sadistic monster inside of me that has been itching to take you out.” He
continued to move the blade up slowly, and the man gurgled, struggled fruitlessly,
and when Cain twisted the blade the life faded from the rapist’s eyes.

The
silence that filed the room was deafening, but there was also this release that
seemed to come from Cain like the relief that covered his face. He took a step
back, and the knife he held dripped the red, viscous fluid onto the ground.
Cain stared at each of them, set the knife down, and picked up the bottle. He
drank the alcohol until nothing was left.

“What
the fuck
am
I supposed to do with the body?” Cain
asked without emotion.

“We
have twenty acres on this property. I’m sure we can find some place for him,”
Malice said in a deep voice.

“And
no one will come looking for him?” Kink asked. He moved toward the guy and
stared at his lifeless body.

“No,
this piece of shit was living in a crack-house about two hours from here, high
with a needle still in his fucking arm, and a whore draped over him sucking his
dick,” Cain said and took the offered cigarette Kink handed him. “Besides, I
did my research on him while inside—I had some connections while locked away—and
knew that once I was out I’d have everything I needed to hunt him down and
finish what I started nine years ago.” Cain lit the end, inhaled from the
cigarette, and then exhaled. He looked down at the smoke. “You should quit this
shit. It’ll kill you,” Cain said, took one more hit from the smoke, and then
snubbed the butt out on the bottom of his shoe. “Well, if you boys are ready to
get this fucking piece of dirt in the ground, I’m ready to put this shit behind
me.”

Lucien
walked over to the corpse, unhooked him from the chain that he was attached to,
and let his body fall to the floor. Kink and Malice picked him off the floor,
and the four of them walked out of the garage through the backdoor, and made
their way through the woods that lined the clubhouse. Lucien had grabbed a few
shovels on his way out, and Kink had grabbed a flashlight. The body was draped
over Malice’s shoulder, and the outline of Cain leading the way was illuminated
by the moonlight moving through the trees.

Over
the years with the club Lucien had done some fucked up things, but they had
been part of the MC, keeping everyone whole, and making sure payback was dealt.
The illegal things they had done had been necessary, and he didn’t regret any
of it, not even what they were doing right now.