Hooks Part I
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Original composition by Tatienne Richard exclusively for My Fiction. If you’re reading this elsewhere it has been stolen from the platform
“Wake up,” Gulliver, let loose a piercing whistle as he straddled a chair in front of the man who was hanging from a hook in the ceiling.
“Can I say,” Ford grunted, “that using my veterinary skills to stop the bleeding of his cock was not the best use of my skills?”
“I want him alive for a while, Ford and it means you needed your sewing kit.”
“And animal tranquilizers.”
Glenn came into the space with two more men to suspend from the rafters and one of them was the bald fucker for whom he knew January held deep hatred. The thought of his wife made
him smile.
“What are you smiling for?” Glenn asked as he had some men help him suspend the bald prick onto the hook and then hoisting him high, so his shoulders were nearly twisting inside on themselves.
Gulliver flicked his glance back to Davis who was now starting to come round thanks to a light slap to the face.
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“Watching my wife beat the fuck out of Duchess and then this asshole. I know she’d want ten minutes with this prick,” he motioned to the bald man.
“She was sexy, was she?” Ford asked with a chuckle as he broke a small capsule of smelling salts and held it under Davis’s nose and stepped back while the man jerked awake.
“Fucking gorgeous,” as Davis’s eyes cleared and focused on him, Gulliver smirked at him from his position in the chair, “she was, wasn’t she Davis? My wife? Sexy as hell when she beat Duchess into the ground.”
“Fuck you Raptis,” Davis spat and then he went off in a torrent of Greek curse words the three men watching him all stared at him in surprise.
“Do you kiss your mother with that mouth? Oh, no, you don’t because she died of disappointment over your ass.” Gulliver was laughing, “I find it very fascinating while he’s in pain yet high on one of Ford’s drug cocktails, his fake American accent is completely gone, and he can only speak Greek. I wonder if this happens to all people who pretend to be something they are not or if it’s simply his tiny brain can’t compute pain and English simultaneously.”
“Going with the latter,” Glenn grunted. “He’s always been a dumb fuck.” Walking to Davis, Glenn pulled knuckle dusters from his pocket and slipped them onto his fist and then leveled a
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devastated punch to Davis’s abdomen which left the man gasping for air. “That’s for taking my man, you twisted perverted fuck.”
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Davis spit a glob of blood at him earning another hard punch, “I knew January needed more than a little incentive. You have her fucking brainwashed, Raptis. She needs away from you to regain the clarity that you are the real sick fuck here.”
“You’ve been wanting to have sex with her since she was a teenager, Davis. I can honestly say since the time I was sixteen myself, I’ve not had even considered sex with another sixteen–year–old. In fact, after I turned eighteen, I dated older women until my mid–twenties.” He smirked at Ford and Glenn, “I wanted to learn everything I could, so I went with the experienced women. It’s how I learned how to make sure my woman is turned inside out before I even begin to get off.”
“She was definitely walking like a woman who was well loved this morning,” Glenn commented for no reason other than to make Davis twitch with rage. “It was pretty funny how Kaylee caught you in the shower with her mom. It was all she talked about for hours. She’s very happy her mom and dad are together again.”
“Do you know who else is happy?” Gulliver didn’t take his eyes off the rageful man hanging from the rafters, “January. She is so happy. She proposed to me in the car on the way to meet this idiot.”
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“Really? She proposed?”
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“Yes. She told me she wants a wedding where her father gets to walk her down the aisle and the kids are flower girls and ring bearers and she wants Grandfather to be the officiant. She said her friend Lottie did an online application to be an officiant, and she wants Grandfather to do that.“‘
“Lottie?” Ford turned his head, “she is gorgeous.”
“I like how protective she is of January,” Gulliver nodded. “She would be a good match for you, but January insists she does not date because her son hates all men.”
“I will win him over. The best way to win Lottie over is to get her son to like me first.”
“Good luck. At sixteen I was a miserable prick,” Glenn laughed.
“Shut the fuck up!” Davis suddenly screamed furiously. “If you’re going to fucking kill me then be done with it but all this fucking blathering on like women at a hen party is doing my head in.”
Gulliver stood up, the chair rattling at his brusque movement and he grabbed a metal baseball bat which had been laying on the floor behind him out of sight of Davis’s gaze. He swung it around his wrist and then caught it in his fist before choking up on the handle and bringing it crashing against Davis’s knee. The cracking sound was music to Gulliver’s ears, nearly as
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impressive as the man’s scream. Ile casually swung the bat around his forearm again as he walked behind the man and then cracked it against the man’s lower back.
“We’re not going to kill you Davis. You’re going to stay alive for a while, a long while perhaps. It all depends on how useful you are to me Davis.” Gulliver used the end of the bat to push Davis’s chin upward, forcing the man to meet Gulliver’s gaze, “my men went to your apartment in New York. So many things which were never revealed to your supervisors. Like the creepy little shrine to my wife and the photo album. You went to her prom, Davis. Her prom? She was seventeen.”
“You married her a couple years later.”
“She was twenty, not a teenager and,” he gave a tilt of his head, “I waited until our wedding night before I touched her.”
“A wedding that never happened, Davis mocked him.
Gulliver pulled the bat back and swung hard, the crunch of ribs breaking making him smirk, I keep telling everyone, but nobody is hearing me. I don’t need a fucking piece of paper. I said the vows. I meant the vows. She is my one and only and not you or an entire fucking army will ever convince me that it wasn’t the same for her. A piece of paper meant nothing compared to the words and vows we spoke to one another.” He swung again, “she is my wife!”
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