I sat in my car, watching the only man inside the bar. He sat at the bartop, nursing what seemed to be his fifth beer in the short amount of time that he had been there. The woman who found him offered to kill him on sight but I had a plan for this sad excuse of a man and now I stayed here, watching him, waiting for him to get up and make his move. 

The bartender had cut him off with that fifth beer so it shouldn't be long before he left and tried his luck at the other bar just down the road. 

I only had to wait a few more minutes before he stumbled away from the table and started towards the door. My gun was pressed firmly against my hand as I watched him slam the door closed behind him. 

I expect him to turn left towards the next bar but he holds his head high and faces to the right. Jax's apartment was only a few miles down in that direction. My blood boiled at the thought of him going anywhere near Jax or Liam and I wasn't going to let him get that far. 

I pushed the car door open and slammed it hard enough to catch his attention. 

He turned to glare me at as I walked toward him with a big smile. 

"Dan," I called out to him before slinging my arm around his shoulders and pulling him in the direction of my car. 

"I'm not Dan," he scoffed as he tried to push my arm off of him. "My name is Richard," he slurred, "And I don't know you, fuck off." 

"Oh, Richard! I remember you now," I laughed, my hand squeezing his shoulder and forcing him closer to my body as I led him toward the trunk of my car. "You know my friend Jax don't you?" His eyes went wide at my words and I fought back a smirk knowing I had caught his attention. He stopped fighting and allowed me to guide him with no effort.

"You know Jaxon?"

"Jax is my best friend. I was actually on my way to go see him. You looking for a ride," I asked just as I stopped at the trunk. He opened his mouth to answer but I didn't give him the chance. My fist connected with the side of his head, probably using more force than I needed to, and he crumpled against me. I held his weight against me as I opened the trunk and slid him inside.

The drive back home was fast. I took turns faster than I needed to and it filled me with much joy when I heard Richard's body collide with the side of the car. A simple text to Dev let them know that they could leave Jax's apartment whenever they wanted and to let Jax know that this wouldn't be a problem anymore.

Turning down the driveway was like a special treat. I could tell he had woken up by the amount of screams and banging that came from the trunk and I truly treasured the harsh twists and turns of the driveway. Hearing his screams and curses being cut off by a turn followed by a sharp bang was music to my ears.

When the car was parked his screaming got louder and I loved the fear laced into it.

My gun was pulled out as I stared down at the trunk. Men were posted around the property as a safety precaution in case Richard somehow got out but the gun being pointed at him should be enough to keep him calm for now.

The trunk opened quickly as Richard kicked it. He attempted to lunge out at me but the gun trained on his face had him backing as far away as possible. 

"Get out," I said as I backed up far enough to let him step out. 

"I'm not going anywhere with you," he scoffed and I smiled at him.

"It's going to be a lot easier for you if you just do what I say." He glared at me and I hated being able to see a bit of Jax in that glare. His lips curled into a sneer as he spat at me.

"You aren't going to do shit to me," he scoffed. "You need me for something or I wouldn't be here." I smiled down at him, my gun tilted down slightly but I pulled the trigger. 

He screamed as the bullet lodged itself into his thigh. He bled over the carpet and it would be a hassle to clean but his screams were nice enough that I couldn't find it in myself to care. 

"Are you going to listen now or should I shoot the other leg and drag you out of there myself?" He didn't answer but moved slowly to the edge of the trunk before putting his good leg on the ground and all but rolling out. He leaned heavily against me and I stepped away to watch him fall onto the ground. 

"Don't get your blood on me," I scoffed down at him. "Now get your ass up."

He grunted in pain and leaned against the car to force himself up. He clutched his thigh to try and stop the bleeding but the attempt was futile and the blood seeped through his fingers. 

I grabbed him by the back of the neck, the gun pointed at his head as I led him into the house. 

His blood dropped onto the floor as we walked down the hall to my wing. Men and women lined the walls of the living room and hallway. Most of them had read the article that was released this morning after getting their assignments and had read about what he had done. Most of them didn't know Jax but reading about child abuse and seeing the pictures were enough to fuel their hate. 

As we walked down the hall they screamed at him, some spat at his face, others punched the wound he was trying to hide. He gasped in pain with every hit that touched him and tried to flinch away but I held him tightly in pain. I had nearly made it to the door of my wing before I remembered something Jax told me. 

"He would beat me until I was bleeding and then make me clean it up. It was hard getting all of it clean since I was still bleeding. I would have to keep cleaning until my back clotted and I could clean without getting replaced by more blood. It took hours sometimes."

I looked down at the sick piece of shit and smiled. His blood had trailed nicely down the hall and a quick look at his thigh made it clear he was still bleeding.

"Someone get a towel," I called out. "I think the bastard should clean up his own mess." They all cheered and in a matter of seconds, an already blood-stained towel was thrown at Richards's face. He barely had time to catch it before I shoved him to his knees. He gasped at the pain from his skin stretching at the new position but I didn't give him time other than to adjust before pushing his face against the floor, his nose rubbing against the small pool of blood. 

"Fucking clean it," I seethed, pressing his face farther into the floor. "This is what you did to Jax right? Do you like to make people bleed and then make them clean it up? Then fucking clean it you fucking pussy."

He ground his teeth as I smeared the blood across his face but he refused to move. 

I dropped down to my knees and pressed my fingers into the fresh wound in his leg. He screamed and tried to get away but I held him there, pushing my fingers deeper in the hole. I didn't stop until I felt the bullet at the tip of my fingers. He was sobbing now, still trying to crawl away but when I spread my fingers in the hole, forcing them to stretch the wound he stopped and picked up the rag. 

"I'll clean it," he cried and I moved my fingers back and forth. Blood spilled out and pooled onto the floor in a sickening shade of red. I didn't remove my fingers as he picked up the rag and attempted to wipe his face off first. 

The barrel of my gun hit the side of his head and he groaned at the pain. 

"I don't give a fuck about you," I seethed at him, pushing my nails against the bleeding flesh. "Clean my fucking floor!" He sobbed and moved the rag away and attempted to wipe his blood off the floor, red still covering his face where I had rubbed his face in it. 

He managed to clean the rather large pool of blood beneath him and tried to stand up but I kicked his leg out from under him, forcing him to crash down to the floor. 

"You're not done," I scoffed and looked down the hallway. He followed my gaze and his shoulders slumped as tears built up in his eyes. I knew I was a sick man, I've known this for a while, but I couldn't help the sick smile that covered my face as I watched the few tears fall off his face and pool on the floor. "It looks like you missed a spot," I teased and shoved his face farther into the floor. "Lick it up."

He shook his head harshly and went to lift the rag but I snatched it out of his hand before he had the chance to touch the few drops of tears. 

The crowd around us laughed and screamed as he tried to fight against the back of my hand. They screamed insults at him left and right and his face was flushed from the humiliation. 

"Lick it up you fucking bitch," I seethed at him, my blood-soaked fingers digging back into the wound on his leg. He screams as I push the bullet deeper into his thigh. "Lick. It. Up," I seethed. 

I laughed as he stuck out his tongue and lightly licked the floor. A bit of blood was left on the floor and mixed with the tears and I loved the way he grimaced at the taste. 

"Now keep going," I said as I tilted his head to the rest of the hallway. 

The rag he had been using was already soaked with blood from his trying to wipe up the steady pool of blood seeping through the hole in his thigh to the point where he was just mopping the drips of blood into a pile in the center of the living room. 

Any time the floor was almost completely clean someone would spit or spill something forcing him to crawl to the mess and push it back to the rest of the pile. 

"I need another rag," he rasped, his voice raw from the screaming. 

"I'm not wasting another rag on you," I scoffed. "Figure it out and be grateful I'm not making you lick that up too."

His lips curled into another snarl. I could tell he was getting ready to spit at me again and slammed the butt of my gun against his head again. He groaned and doubled over in pain, falling into the pool of blood. 

The crowd around us laughed and I could feel a smile curling onto my face. 

I was going to have so much fun breaking this man's spirit. I assumed it was going to be easy. He seemed like the kind of man who liked to dish out pain and humiliation but couldn't handle it being turned on him yet he still held his head high and had the audacity to try and spit at me even though my fingers had been in his thigh several times since him being here. 

I watched as he pulled his shirt off of his body and used that to mop up the blood. The thick blood coated the shirt quickly but he managed to get all of it up and was guided to the trash can by one of the women watching as she degraded him with every step. The flush on his face never faded as he limped back to stand in front of me, sadly no more blood dripping as he walked. 

"Did you enjoy that," I asked, my hand tightening around his throat. "Did you enjoy cleaning up your own mess like a good little bitch? You looked so good on your knees for me. I haven't decided what I'm going to do to you yet but you make sure a good bitch, I might keep you that way. Do you want to be my bitch?"

"Fuck you," he scoffed and tried to push me away but the grip on his neck tightened. He squeaked against the pressure and the crowd erupted into cheers about him being just a little slut. I laughed before slapping him harshly on the face and forcing him back down to his knees. 

"What do you mean you don't want to be my bitch," I cooed. "You cleaned up everything so well. I think you would be the best cleaning bitch here." He glared up at me and I only shrugged. "Well if you don't want to be my bitch I guess I can find something else for you to do."

People whistled as I grabbed him by his hair and pulled him the rest of the way down the hall, stopping just long enough to open the door before dragging him to the laundry room. He paused as I opened the door to the basement. The basement was dark and you could see nothing down there other than the stairs in front of us.

"Well go on," I teased. "Get down there." He looked like he was about to fight again and I dared him to. The butt of my gun lightly traced the curve of his jaw and the first left his eyes for now. 

He braced his arm on the wall to try and stand up but I killed the leg out from under him again. 

"Only people walk on two legs," I teased as I leaned down to press my hands to my knees like I was talking to a toddler. "Animals like you walk on all fours."

"I'm not an animal," he scoffed and tried to get up again. I simply repeated my movement and watched as he fell down. I couldn't hide my smile as he continued to glare at me. 

"You don't consider yourself as an animal," I asked with a humorless laugh. "Humans don't beat their children until they're unconscious," I seethed as I took a step closer to him. He backed away and I took another step closer. "Humans don't carve hateful things into their child's skin. Humans don't make their children fight for money. Humans don't break out of jail purely so they can go make their child's life a living hell again the second they get out."

With every step he took back, I took one forward until he was at the edge of the landing, only inches away from the stairs. 

He goes to open his mouth to respond but my foot comes up to push his shoulder back, causing him to fall backward down the stairs. He gasped as he tipped back before stumbling all the way down the long flight of stairs. I followed him with a sick smile on my face, absolutely loving the way he backed away in fear.