Stung by Stealth: A Satan's Savages MC Novel #3 by K E Osborn Page A

“I’d rather go deaf than tell you anything about José.”
    Mad Dog pulls back smirking. “Ah, so you do know José then. And going deaf, eh? We can arrange that if you won’t talk.”
    “Go your hardest esé.”
    Closing my eyes, my body slumps wishing he hadn’t said that. This guy’s asking to be killed. Although I’m pretty sure, he was never coming out of here alive anyway, but he’s just going to make the road to death a hell of a lot more painful if he doesn’t cooperate.
    Chops picks the scalpel back up and moves to his side. The Mexican’s eyes move to the left as he watches Chops. He smirks as he grabs hold of his ear.
    “What the fuck hombre. I didn’t mean it literally!”
    Chops laughs. “Sorry, what? I can’t hear you?” He then brings the scalpel down behind his ear flap and begins to hack at the membrane with his scalpel.
    A shudder runs down my spine as the Mexican screams out in sheer pain as the scalpel slices through his ear detaching it from his head. Yes, this won’t make him deaf, but it will absolutely cause a lot of pain. He squirms in the seat and his moans start to quieten as Chops pulls his ear away and throws it on the floor with the tip of the Mexican’s finger.
    “There. They make quite the pair together on the floor there don’t they? But things are better in threes, I think? Don’t you think?” Chops asks.
    “Oh, yes, definitely! Three isn’t a crowd at all,” Mad Dog agrees.
    “What the fuck. No. No more. Please esé.”
    “Then tell us what we want to know about José.”
    He exhales and his body slumps. “Okay. I’ll tell you what I know. Word on the street is José is working for someone big. I don’t know his name, I’ve never met him. But my gang, the Ingratos, are working the streets for them. We supply the local gangs and thugs with their guns and drugs, and it keeps them happy.”
    Mad Dog exhales and nods. “Who’s them?”
    “I don’t know. That’s all I know, I swear.” He looks up to the right, I huff and shake my head.
    “He’s lying again.”
    Mad Dog looks at me and nods. “Chops, make the duo a trio.”
    “No, no, please!” he calls out as Chops moves into him with a scooped shaped object. I wonder what it’s for, but then Chops moves two fingers to hold his eye open one above and one below his eye socket and I know this is going to be gruesome.
    “No, not my eye. Please.”
    But Chops doesn’t hesitate and plunges the scoop into the Mexican’s eye socket. His scream is louder than any of his previous. My stomach churns and bile rises in my throat, but I keep it down.
    I hate this, but I love it.
    My heart is racing as my mind is torn in two directions.
    I should hate every second of this shit, but in some twisted as fuck way, I want the damage done to this guy. I want the intel, and I want him to suffer for being an arrogant arse prick.
    I don’t know who I am anymore.
    Blood pools down his face as liquid oozes from the socket too. A slight popping sound makes me swallow hard as the eyeball falls out of his socket and dangles lifelessly against his cheek. Clear liquid mixed with blood oozes from the now open eye socket as the Mexican is now eerily quiet. All moaning stopped, and just his harsh breathing can be heard in the room along with mine and the rapid beating of my heart.
    “You still awake, amigo?” Chops asks slapping his leg.
    He jolts slightly and swallows hard. “Si… barely.”
    “Maybe this will wake you up. Off to be in the land of three,” Chops says grabbing some scissors and severing the strands holding the eyeball to his face. The Mexican groans and jolts as the eyeball drops onto his lap and then rolls onto the floor with his finger and ear.
    “Now, maybe we have jogged your memory. I repeat… who are they ?”
    The Mexican swallows hard and takes a deep breath. “The Cartel.” All traces of sarcasm and aggression are gone from his voice, and now he’s only talking with lackluster defeat.
    My back