Page 3 of Acceptance

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Page 3 of Acceptance

“Stop it!” he cries. “Stop it, okay? We get it. You’re tougher than we are. You win. I’m stabbed and bleeding, and he’s got a broken… face.”

“Don’t like watching your boy toy getting the same treatment he dished out?” Brock asks.

“Would you like watching someone you care about getting beaten like this?”

Shaking his head, he shrugs. “No, but I also know how to get out of zip ties. If you strapped me down and beat my wife, I’d have you on the floor and gutted like a pig before you could do half this amount of damage.”

“You know what your problem is, guys?” Beckett asks, his breathing heavy as he runs his hand over his head to pull his hair from his face. “You get by on intimidation. Never learned how to actually defend yourselves because you believed you’d always have someone else there to take care of you.”

“You really should’ve learned to fight back and not rely solely on your position of power to get by,” Brock agrees.

“Help! Someone! Anyone! They’re going to kill us!” Scott shouts.

Shoving the towel into Scott’s mouth with a little more force than necessary, Brock breaks a couple of teeth, but he doesn’t care. It’s not going to matter in the end anyway.

“Such a little bitch. Just so you know, this is from Tony. And if everything continues according to plan, he’ll have your job, too.”

“And your kids will probably call him Dad. Does that sting?” Beckett asks.

He mumbles, and Brock just laughs. “I’d take the towel out again, but I don’t think you can stop yourself from whining and crying. Besides, I’m getting kind of bored.”

Reaching for another knife, he moves behind the warden and grabs his head by the hair. He pulls it back to extend it as far as it’ll go, and he slices cleanly against the exposed flesh across his throat.

Blood spurts as his eyes widen with panic, and he tries to gasp for air. The sound has never been one to satisfy Brock much, but knowing how much pleasure this asshole got at sitting on a throne and barking out orders just because he could makes it easier to tolerate.

“No!” Bill cries as he stares at his lover in horror. “Scott!”

“Don’t worry. You’ll be together again very soon,” Beckett says before delivering three more punches.

The last one stills all movement and fight in him, and Brock stares at him in impressed shock. “He’s dead?”

“Yeah, bones pushing into your brain usually doesn’t give you any type of real chance,” Beckett says. “This is probably the most ungratifying revenge I’ve ever experienced. How do people feel accomplished when their opponent is strapped down?”

Laughing, he nods and looks around. “Okay, so here’s the plan. We ransack the place and take anything that looks valuable. Leave the video camera, and it’ll confuse the hell out of the cops who find it.”

“Wait, are you telling me that the Griffin’s Beach Police aren’t top notch?” he asks as he rummages through a few drawers and pulls out a gold pocket watch. “Who the fuck carries one of these around anymore?”

Brock shrugs. “No idea. I wouldn’t be surprised if somehow the cops try and link this to the De-Identifier. Even though the only thing we know about his victims is that they’re female.”

They both laugh and slip out of the house the same way they came in. Hats, gloves, and boots they plan to get rid of in Riverview should protect them from being found.

“What do we do with the pathetic amount of loot?”

“Throw it into ditches on the way out to Riverview,” Brock says. “Let some lucky person find it and pawn it.”

“And the camera can’t be traced back to us?”

Brock shakes his head as he hops into the passenger side of the stolen car they picked up that morning. “It’s part of the stash I bought with cash at various pawn shops in Tacoma over a year ago. If the cops do get a copy of the surveillance, I had a mustache and a wig on. Plus, the name I used was Mark Hill.”

“How did I miss you having a mustache?”

“Don’t ask me. I looked ridiculous. I’ll give Tony a call and let him know it’s done when we get back to the clubhouse. The debt’s paid.”

Repaying Tony for helping them get out of prison was the least he could do. Now, Brock can focus on his pregnant wife and help her deal with the morning sickness while they wait to find out whether she carries a boy or a girl. As much as he wants a boy, he hopes it’s another girl. One who looks just like her mama like their first.

Chapter Two

Griffin’s Beach