Nerddicks Game Over Read online

  “Didn’t they ever tell you not to piss off the snipers? I would hate to mess up that pretty little ass of yours.” Motioning with my hand, I cut John off and give him his orders. “You got it, Boss.”

  Putting my hand on Prosser’s shoulder, I lean in to whisper. “Time to show them why our enemies fear us.”

  Nodding once, I grab my karambit, a gift from an old friend, and get into position. You see, this knife is especially useful for self-defense and the grip rests in my hand so perfectly that it is extremely difficult to disarm anyone holding one. Which is why it's my favorite weapon. It’s never let me down, and right now I am letting it out to play.

  “Go.” I mouth.

  Prosser darts to the front to kill the guards while I take out the two on the south side.

  “Two dead on the roof.” John’s voice rings in my head as I wrap my hands around a man’s neck, slicing his throat open, and toss a blade at the other’s fleeing back.

  “Two more coming your way, Boss. Prosser and Everett get to the north side and cut the engines. Time to finish this and get our asses home before Bree kills us. I refuse to be the reason we are late to her party. Do you remember what happened during Mike’s new coffee shop opening?” Another body falls from the rooftop as my next victim falls at my feet.

  “Please, she threatens to shred my balls at any chance she gets. I rather like them just the way they are.” I snark and take down another nameless face.

  Everett grunts in my ear and I see a small shadow bolt towards the vehicles. “Bullshit. The only reason she threatened your balls is because you took all her books and locked them in storage. I’m surprised she hasn’t killed you already. When are you going to tell her about her special room we built? She has to be going batshit crazy by now.”

  Fucker. I barely made it out alive when I took her books from Bree and told her she needed to box them up and put them in storage. Forty-six boxes full of books. Who the hell needs that many fucking books? The woman I love, that’s who. So, we packed them up and started to work on her secret room. Blocking off a section of the house, we started construction a month ago. Just a few more things to add and it will be perfect. Each of us picked a special thing from her nerddom world, and we are anxious to see what she thinks.

  “Six.” Everett sang in the com and started to quote LOTR. The fuckers are counting.

  “Four.” Prosser snaps back in the intercom. “Care if we make a few homemade fireworks to let them know death sent his bitches to send a little message?”

  “Go for it.” Tightening my grip on my karambit, I spot four in the back entrance with their backs all turned to me. Wrong move, assholes.

  “Bombs are set. Two minutes to lift off.” Everett says.

  “John, cover Prosser at the main entrance. Everett, watch my six. I’ll go in back and pay Cam a little visit. When the bomb goes off, that is when we strike. Do not hold back and do whatever it takes. Roger?”

  “Roger.” They both respond, and now it’s time to wait.

  The first bomb goes off, causing the ground to quake, and that is when I attack. Jabbing my knife into his back several times, I grab his gun and take down the three men before they can blink.

  Kicking down the door, I dive inside and kill all those in the room. “Eleven.” Might as well play along and have some fun.

  “Aww, big bro finally caught up. I am so proud. Thirteen.” John’s joke would normally make me laugh, but right now I needed to pay someone a little visit. The demon was in control.

  “I thought you said there was no one inside. What the fuck, Everett?” Prosser snaps as I hear gunshots coming from somewhere inside the building and echoing in the com.

  Everett scoffs as he takes out another and I hear him reload. “I knew when Ryan heard the truth about who was inside he would see red and charge in like a bull in a china shop. So, I let him know it was only a few. In reality, there are several dozen men inside. He needs this, let him have it. We will deal with the consequences later.”

  Silently cursing my brother for not giving me the correct intel, I eradicate what’s left inside and knock down the door in front of me, and I hit the jackpot. Cam is sitting behind a desk, smoking a cigar, and goes pale when he sees me.

  “Ryan.”

  “Expecting your fairy godmother? Sorry to disappoint you.” I snap and throw my knife at his shoulder and relish in his agonizing scream. The thing about being a hostage and tortured for a few months, you learn a few things.

  “ARGH! I didn’t mean to do it, Ryan. I swear. He made me do it.” Cam struggles to get the knife out of his shoulder and tears glisten in his eyes, telling me what a punk he really is.

  Holding my Glock in my hand, I lean against the wall and figured why not play with one's food. “Let me get this straight. He held a gun to your head as you crawled into her room, planning to rape her and blow her brains out when you were done with her? You planned to do unspeakable things to the woman I love, but didn’t have any other options. Please, I know what kind of man you really are.”

  “H-”

  “Your buddies sang loud and clear when they got reacquainted with my beauty. It’s been a while since I tortured somebody, and man, the memories. Felt like the old me again.” The night Bree was sent home from the hospital, John, Mike, and myself received a tip a few of Weatherford’s men were spotted a few hours from town, and we caught them, off guard.

  When they saw my face, they cowered with fear and told me everything I needed to know. Weatherford needs to hire better guns, or this little game of cat and mouse will be over before the fun even starts.

  I vowed to myself a long time ago, I will never be the man I was in the military and never turn into the monster I once was. But seeing Bree bleeding to death and waiting for heaven to take her, all bets were off.

  We tortured his men for hours and kept one alive to deliver a message. A nickname given to me by the locals overseas was never a compliment or an honor. It was a reality of what war made me. Yamajit, meaning conqueror of death, was what I became. The battles I fought should have killed me, but I lived. I saw more death and violence than anyone would wish upon their worst enemy.

  Some call me Satan’s son for the shit I have done, others call me the bringer of death for how many I have killed. But only one name ever stuck with me. To this day, that name will forever mark me for what I am. Azrail, the angel of death. I kill without remorse and protect those I love without a fault. You hurt my own, you better pray God has mercy on your soul.

  Prosser and Everett soon join me and raise their guns at Cam's chest. “May I?” Everett snarls, trying to keep his anger under control. We all have a special place in our heart for Bree, and everyone is on edge.

  Waving off his ridiculous request. I watch with curious eyes to see what they’re going to do. “Just don’t kill him.”

  Several shots echo in the room and Cam screams as he falls to the floor, cradling his knees to his chest. “That’s for attacking one of our own. Where is Weatherford?” Prosser asks as he twists the knife in Cam's shoulder.

  “I. Don’t. Know!” He says between each sob that wracks his body. Both his knee caps have been shot, and he will never be able to walk again.

  “You have five minutes before the cavalry arrives, sheriff just called and spotted six black SUV’s headed our way,” John says, telling me this needs to be cut short.

  “WHERE IS HE?” Everett slaps Cam hard across the cheek and kicks him hard in the ribs.

  Cams phone starts to ring on the desk, and I see Weatherford’s name flash on the caller ID. Prosser snatches it off the desk and tosses it to me.

  “Weatherford.” Holding my breath, I do everything in my power not to crumble the phone in my hand.

  Weatherford chuckles on the other end, and I hear men barking orders in the background. “Looks like you found my little gift. Figured it was something you would never be able to pass up. Poor Cam alone in a warehouse, awaiting his trial. How did it feel? Pulling the trigger a
nd seeing his brains scattered all over the wall. Feeling the rage build inside you and your cock spring to life seeing your enemy die at your hands. God, what I wouldn’t do to see Cam right now.”

  Pinching the brim of my nose, I turn my back to Prosser and Everett. He knew we would come and set this entire thing up. Why the fuck didn’t we see this coming? We have been so blind with rage at what happened with Bree, we never took a second to see what was right in front of us.

  “Why?” Keeping my voice even, I lock the demon in its cage and bait Weatherford.

  “Keep him talking, Boss, the scanners are locating him now.” John’s voice calms the rage boiling inside me, and I wait with baited breath to see what Weatherford has to say.

  “I had to release Azrail. Ryan is no fun when he is pussy whipped and locked up all his fun toys. Our little game would be done before we know it. No, I had to do what you swore you would never do. Set traps and hurt your precious nerd. She was the key, you see. She is the reason you became this soft, nauseatingly sweet, and a boring ass human being. I missed the angel of death. The man who killed without remorse. The man who the army created for tasks that would make even the strongest men cringe. You, sir, are Satan’s bitch and it’s time everyone meets the real you.”

  Whipping around, I look at Prosser and Everett. John, Matt, and Lawson are the only ones who have seen what I can do. Only a few men are selected to become what is necessary to get the job done. Prosser and Everett walk closer to me and motion for me to put the phone on speaker.

  Taking a deep breath, I know what I am about to say is going to tell my brothers exactly who I am. No more secrets, if we are going to stop Weatherford and save all those kids, they need to know the real me.

  “Azrail is dead. He died in the cell a long time ago.”

  Prosser and Everett take a step back and look at me with wide eyes. They just realized who I was.

  “Please, he will never be dead. You live and breathe this life. But I know something that will cheer you up. While your pretty little nerd is all alone with her guard, planning her special Halloween party, you are out on a wild goose chase trying to find the man who has been destroying your company for years. Right now, I am on my way to destroy your safe house and take back what you stole from me. Sleep well, Brother, this is only the beginning. Looks like the student has surpassed the teacher and it’s time to send another message.”

  No. Crumpling the phone in my hand, I throw the phone against the wall and bolt out of there. Weatherford is still in Montana, and he has eyes on Bree. Fuck! I slipped up, and I put her in harm’s way, once again. “Get a message to Blackburn, get those kids out of there.”

  I did one thing I was trained never to do. I took the bait and wandered off on a wild goose chase, leaving her defenseless with my brothers. I told Weatherford about the homes, and now we just have to pray to God Blackburn and his crew can get them out in time.

  “Get the fuck out of there. Blackburn and his crew received a tip over an hour ago. The kids are safe and hiding. Only you and I know their location. We’ll regroup at base and figure this shit out. Matt and Lawson are on standby, and she is surrounded. Nothing is going to happen to her. I promise you that, Brother.” John’s words do nothing to calm me down. Grabbing my Glock, I level it at Cam's head and put him out of his misery. One monster in Bree’s nightmare down, and one to go.

  Chapter 3

  ~ Brianna ~

  “No, no, no. Don’t put that there. Matt, stop stuffing your face with dick treats and come help me out. Williford, go outside and set up the fog machine, we need to make sure the porch is set up for the show.” Trying my best not to laugh, I watch Matt spit the food out of his mouth and try not to vomit.

  See, this isn’t your typical Halloween party. Taylor and Leigh Ann are unable to make it due to work, and home life back in Seattle. I hate spending our first holiday apart, but I get it. Not to mention, Taylor is ready to castrate John and Leigh Ann already found another booty call and doesn’t want to deal with Matt’s bullshit. Poor guys, think with your dick and not with the heart, this is what happens. Good thing I love these two and know my girls are just playing hard to get. Ryan and I lost three years, I will not let that happen to these guys.

  But matchmaking aside, my two best friends won’t be here to celebrate Halloween with us, but I did convince Jack and his husband to come. Plus, Jack is behind everything that is about to go down. Sexy costumes, good food, special treats, and a big surprise at the end. He is the King of Halloween and the only one who can help me pull this off.

  Things have been tense around here and it’s time to lighten things up. No, I am not pregnant, and there is no wedding date for Ryan and I, yet. I just figured I would give back to the guys and do something for them.

  Since my life is surrounded by soldiers, I am unable to do a crazy intense haunted house with monsters jumping out at them with real or loud noises sounding off at random times, so I came up with something a little different.

  With Jack’s help, we came up with the perfect plan. He also helped me come up with a way to get back at Matt. Matt is overdue for a little payback. Ever since he found out about Nerdboobs and what it all meant, he never shuts the hell up. He even made a shirt that says, ‘Nerd sperm needs love too,’ or “Nerddick for Life,’ but my favorite shirt of late has a picture of a dick with glasses on its balls and #Nerddick on the back. Trying to keep straight-faced with Matt around is nearly impossible.

  “Aren’t you going a little over the top, Bree?” Lawson shakes his head at Matt and throws his arms around my shoulders. “You don’t have to do this, you know.”

  “Trust me. This is nothing compared to what we did back home.” I rub my hands together, and a sly grin starts to form. This is going to be epic.

  I see Lawson rub his hand behind his neck and he looks at me with a grim expression. “Bree-”

  I shrug off his arm and give him my best pissed off look. I’m glad we are somewhat talking, and he isn’t giving me the cold shoulder, but right now, I want to focus on the party and not the thing. “Don’t start this again Lawson, I’m fine.”

  “Bullshit, they need to know. You have until tonight to tell them or I will. Stop acting like a child. There are worse things in this world.” Lawson snaps and storms out of the room, never looking back. What the hell was that about? Lawson never is an ass to me. Ignores me and gives me the cold shoulder, but never snaps.

  All the guys stop what they are doing and watch Lawson storm off down the driveway to his truck. Slamming the driver side door shut, he revs the engine and drives off. Who pissed in his cheerios this morning?

  “Been a long time since I have seen Lawson that mad, what did you do?” Matt’s voice causes me to squeal and elbow him in the gut.

  I can hear my heartbeat thumping in my ears and it’s hard to breathe. Asshole, he knows not to sneak up on me like that. “Sorry,” I mutter and bolt upstairs, needing a few minutes to myself.

  Loud footsteps follow me, and before I can shut the door, Matt and the crew bulldoze their way inside. “Spill it, now!” Matt snaps and pushes me to the nearest chair. “What the fuck is going on with you? Lawson storming off was the last straw. I know something is up, fucking spill it. NOW!”

  Ryder, Smith, Maslanik, Williford, McNeely, and Lemley are all staring at me waiting for an answer. Mason makes his way towards me and grabs my hands. “We aren’t stupid, Bree. I fought my shit for years and nearly killed myself before I got help. Then this firecracker crawls through the small tunnel, talking about spiders eating her or crawling up her cooch, and tells me what an idiot I have been. Now it’s our turn to return the favor. We are not leaving this room until you tell us what’s going on!”

  Smith moves so he leans against the arm of the chair and gives me a tight smile. His six-foot-eight frame towers over me. “You have brought life into our lives, and the one person we love more than life itself is hurting. You think we don’t notice? You don’t think we see what is going on? You
have dark bags under your eyes, your hair is a mess, and you hardly sleep anymore. You barely eat, and Aurora is never around anymore. I know what happened in the forest was horrible, but you need to talk to us. We can help you.”

  “We love you, Bree. Don’t lock us out.” Maslanik speaks up from the other side of the room.

  Jason and Mike open the door and push past all the guys. My bedroom isn’t small by any means, but with this many soldiers in the room, it's starting to get cramped. Jason moves Smith’s hands from mine and snuggles into the chair with me. Mike crosses his arms over his chest and leans against the wall next to the chair.

  “You told them, didn’t you?” I ask Mike, but stare at my hands. Tears threaten to spill, but I do everything in my power to keep them in. I don’t want to cry anymore. I can’t, I just can’t.

  Mike grunts and Jason sighs loudly. “It was for your own good. Jack will be here any minute, and the moment he walks in through those doors, he is going to know something is up.”

  Bolting out of my chair, I shoot daggers at Mike and Jason. “HOW COULD YOU? You had no right to tell them what is going on. No fucking right. I was going to tell them when I was ready.”

  Williford touches my arm, but I swat his hands away, silently wishing my friends would just leave me the hell alone. They have no right telling anyone my business.

  Strong arms wrap around my arms, pinning them against my sides. I struggle to break free, but it only makes Matt hold on tighter. “Let it out.”

  “I hate you. I fucking hate you. LET ME GO!” Tears stream down my face. Fighting with every ounce of strength I have, I buck and thrash my arms around to break free. After several attempts and a few bruises from Matts tight hold on me, my body slumps in defeat. Memories of that night flash before my eyes. You hear stories about people getting shot, and they are one hundred percent okay, or stories about an intruder breaking into your house with talks of killing you. Yeah, I call bullshit. Everyone is different, but it will always leave a scar. No one is one hundred percent fine after something like that.