Now the debt was overdue, and Forge and his crew had done what was necessary to keep Peterson’s reputation squeaky clean.
He was bored of the entertainment, and it was time to step it up a notch or two, or even three. He didn’t have any problems hurting the bastard, and in fact, would rather enjoy hearing him squeal. There hadn’t been enough bloodshed in his life of a late, and he was growing tired of being nice.
Just as Forge was about to give up and head back to his clubhouse to plan his strategy with his men, three black cars slowly pulled up across the abandoned plot. He took a final draw on his cigarette before throwing it to the ground and stamping on it.
Stepping forward, he knew two of his men were by his sides, Dog and Hound. Dog was his VP and Hound his enforcer.
There was no doubt his other men were waiting, hands poised on weapons, prepared to make this very bloody if they had to. Before the night was over, if Peterson had fucked with him, he’d slit the bastard’s throat.
One of the guards opened the back door and Peterson, with all his airs and graces, climbed out, buttoning his jacket as he did.
“You think this is a fucking joke?” Forge asked.
The door of the car remained open as Peterson stepped forward. If Forge didn’t recognize terror so well, he would have assumed the man before him was cool as a cucumber. But he wasn’t. The telltale shaking, the pale face, and overall fear dripped off him. He liked to make men nervous and well, this fucker was exceedingly so. Even with his band of security, it didn’t mean he was safe.
“I apologize for my lateness,” Peterson said.
“Where’s my money?”
“I … I don’t have it.”
Forge tutted. “You know I don’t like it when someone tries to take the piss.” He grabbed Peterson by his jacket, pulling him forward so they were nose to nose. “You better call off your men now!” He spoke slowly.
Peterson’s guards had all drawn their weapons, ready to shoot to kill. Forge had no doubt his men were in exactly the same stance. He trusted them to aim and take their enemies out. What he didn’t know was if Peterson’s men were properly trained or designed to look like fighters. Most of them looked a little too young for his tastes.
“It’s fine. Back off. Lower your weapons,” Peterson said, his voice shaking.
“Now, I’m thinking I break a couple of your arms. Maybe even your legs. I want to hear you scream. Hell’s Slaves are not to be made a fool of, do you understand me?” He’d gladly hear the sound of breaking bones.
“Wait, wait,” Peterson said. Perspiration dotted his brow.
“You think you can order me around?”
“It’s … I have an arrangement that may be suitable for you.”
Forge laughed. “You think you can buy me? The only thing I want is my money.”
“But what if there was something else? Something that is so hard to come by in this day and age. Something only you will ever be able to claim. To own. To possess.”
He hated being a curious bastard. There was nothing he didn’t know about this son of a bitch and yet, here he was, offering him something more, and he was interested.
“Go on.”
“You’re going to need to let me go long enough to arrange it.”
Forge thrust him away from him but didn’t let him go. “This is as far as you’re getting.”
“Fine. Fine.” Peterson looked behind him. His entire body shook as he nodded at one of his men.
Glancing over the man’s shoulder, he watched as someone entered the car. He heard a muffled scream and in the next minute, a woman was pulled from the car. She wore a robe and someone had tied a piece of rope across her mouth, stopping any sound from her.
He noticed how blonde her hair was. It was almost white and it looked soft, silken to the touch. Next, her eyes. They were blue, like a clear ocean, only these were swimming with tears. She wore no makeup. Tears traced down her cheek and he didn’t know why seeing her scared sent a wave of protective need rushing through him. He wanted to protect her.
The man restraining her held her up.
“What is this?” he asked.
“This … is my bastard daughter. No one knows about her but me. This is Beth Peterson. The result of an unfortunate affair with the nanny. As far as anyone is concerned, she works for me. Only those closest to me know who she truly is.”
“And why would I want the offspring you won’t even claim?” Forge asked. “I can get any pussy I want.”
“Exactly. You can have any. I can have a doctor confirm my daughter is … a virgin. No man has ever touched her and I know, I’ve made sure of it. I knew one day she’d come in useful and seeing as you’re surrounded by very loose women, I figured something tight and hot would do the trick.”
With each word Peterson spoke, Forge watched the daughter. She hung her head in shame. She didn’t like her father and what he was doing scared her, but there was something else. She was used to this kind of treatment.
“Open it,” Peterson said.
Without waiting, the guard tore the robe off Beth’s body, showing her to everyone, including his men.
Forge gritted his teeth as he wanted to bash Peterson’s head in. When she tried to cover herself, the guard held her arms out, stopping her from doing exactly that. He wanted to slam his fist into the bastard’s face
