Integrity Has No Bounds by Ryder Dane Page A

thinking of the way she
would thank him made him smile and drop right into her trap.
    The spot on his neck where she’d laid that
fuckin Taser itched, and the duct tape sticky shit was tangled in
the few hairs left on his damned arms once that big motherfucker
they called Skids had sliced through and then peeled the shit from
his body. Skids, and two other fuckers named Leech and Burger,
replaced the duct tape with steel cuffs and leg irons. He was
currently leashed to an eyebolt secured in the cement floor of a
room that was constructed of blocks. There was a bucket in the
corner for him to do his business or take a piss. At least they
left his hands cuffed in front of him.
    The bastard Burger had told him, “I’m cuffing
you in front, ‘cause I ain’t holding your pecker for you to take a
piss, and I ain’t planning on spoon feeding your ass either. Try
any stupid shit and you won’t like what happens. You ain’t gonna
take my advice to heart, ‘cause you Swamp Rats just don’t learn
easy, but when John gets here, you might want to tell him what he
wants to know, it’ll save you some teeth and a whole world of
hurt.”
    The asshole smiled then, and said “Hell, boy,
it might save your life. Did you know our boy was a Ranger in the
Army? If he has to head back south, who knows who might be in his
path to the fucker that you fools are protectin’.”
    He shook his head and laughed as they heard a
door slam and a man scream. “You don’t happen to know a Rat by the
tag of Sonny Paulson? Nah, you wouldn’t know him by his scream now
would you? Swamp Rats squeal when they’re hurt don’t they?” He
laughed as he shut the door behind him, leaving Donnie behind to
deal with his thoughts.
    Thinking about fuckin’ that bitch up just
made his dick hard, and he didn’t want his jailers to see him
sittin’ here in cuffs with a hard-on. They might get the wrong
idea, and that wasn’t something he wanted to deal with.
    Aside from his miscalculation in picking that
bar on the state line, the rest of this shit was all Candle’s
doing. He was tired of the entire thing. He couldn’t give Candle
up, not without a world of shit coming down on his head. So he came
up with a plan that should make everyone happy.
    By the time the door opened again, he was
prepared for just about any scenario. He’d been hearing the screams
coming through the door for the past two hours, and it sounded like
they were doling out pain to Sonny slowly over time. He wasn’t a
close friend of the brother, but Sonny hadn’t done anything to
deserve this kind of shit that he knew of either.
    A big motherfucker walked into the room and
he held the door for the one called Skids to carry in two chairs.
The big fucker had to be John. The chairs were set down in the
middle of the room, and Skids left them alone.
    John sat in one of the chairs and pushed the
other one toward Donnie. “Sit.” Donnie shrugged his shoulders and
sat. Whatever happened, he was ready, at least that was what he
told himself. He was surprised when the man pulled two cans of beer
from his pocket and handed one over to him. He didn’t know what
this fucker was up to, but he was powerful thirsty, so he popped
the top and took a couple of draws on the ice cold liquid before
John began to speak.
    “Okay, Donnie Lee Dean, it’s like this. I
want the cowardly motherfucker that got his rocks off on
frightening and violating my woman. I can say with confidence that
I could beat you until you’d need some poor hag to wipe your chin
and sing you nursery rhymes, and you won’t give your brother up.”
He popped the top of his own beer and swallowed a good portion of
it, and continued.
    “I understand you happen to be Pappy D’s kid,
and are the heir apparent to the leadership role of the Swamp Rats.
Don’t get that pissed look either, you want my fuckin’ respect,
boy, you gotta fuckin’ earn it. From everything I’ve seen and
heard, there isn’t one of you worth the cost