Carnage: Part 1 – Chapter 3

“Get in and get out,” Haidyn speaks, checking his Patek Philippe watch for the fifth time in the past minute.

Kashton grunts. “You act like I want to hang out and have a beer.” He straightens his suit jacket, eye-fucking the bleach-blond waitress who walks by and winks at him.

Haidyn shoves Kashton’s arm, getting his attention. “Out of the four of us, you’re the one who would make us stay longer than we should.”

Kashton nods in agreement. “If only.” He winks back at the blonde when she chooses to walk by once again.

“He can’t fuck you, darling.” Adam waves her off. “His dick doesn’t work.” Her eyes widen on a gasp before she spins around and takes off. He looks over at Kashton, who only laughs at him. “I’d like to get out of here before the sun comes up,” Adam adds.

I hate to break it to them, but we’ll be here for a while. “Everyone has their card memorized?” I ask, tucking my hands into the pockets of my black dress slacks.

“Yes, Dad.” Kashton smiles at me.

Adam nods, and Haidyn taps the side of his head to acknowledge that he remembers it.

“Then let’s go.”

We were each given a card with a name, location, and time. For this initiation, we must work together. If you ask me, the Lords are fucking with us. They want us to fail, get angry with one another, or toss each other off the side of the megayacht we’re currently on. Or get caught so they can set us up to be killed as well.

“Anyone else feeling seasick?” Kashton places his hand on his chest and sways back and forth.

“It’s like three hundred feet long. I can’t even tell we’re on water,” Adam answers him.

“We’ve been on the yacht for an hour,” Haidyn reminds him.

“I’ve never done well with water,” Kashton snaps defensively. “You remember that summer before freshman year at Barrington when we took Adam’s father’s boat out and I puked all over the bow?”

“That’s because you drank an entire bottle of Jäger and had nothing to eat that day.” Adam laughs. “You also slapped your dick onto a cheese spread and were offering women your ‘cheese stick.’”

“Hey, I wasn’t going to get pussy for the next three years. I was living my best life.” He grunts, grabbing his slacks as if he can’t wait to get to use his cock again.

We all feel that way.

Haidyn checks his watch again and fixes his backpack on his shoulder. “I’m out. See you guys soon.” He turns, giving us his back and walking through a set of doors.

“Me too.” Adam tosses a piece of gum into his mouth and does the man handshake hug with Kashton and I nod to him before he leaves as well.

“Are you going to get sick?” I ask Kash. We didn’t come this far for him to fuck it up by puking everywhere.

He shakes his head. “Nah, I think I’ll be okay.”

Kashton and I make our way through the megayacht. It belongs to a Lord, but no one really knows what he does. He keeps himself secluded. Once a year, he throws a party on Isabella in the Atlantic when he spends the weekends in the Hamptons. He’s pissed someone off, and it turns out it’ll work in our favor.

We have four names to check off our list tonight. Each of us has to take one out as a team. If one of us fails, we all fail is how the Lords see us, but it makes me laugh.

“Fuck me,” Kashton exclaims loudly, and an older woman dressed in a black cocktail dress gasps, clutching her pearls next to us.

“I apologize.” I place my hands on his shoulders. “First time on the water. He’s feeling ill.”

Her face softens, and she pops open her clutch. “I understand. This will help. I always carry them for my husband.” She hands him a piece of gum for nausea, and he pops it in his mouth, mumbling a thank you.

She walks off into a crowd, and I turn to face him. “Keep it down,” I say, scanning the room. When my eyes find his, I follow them to see why the outburst.

He’s staring at a profile view of the woman out on the deck with bleach-blond hair standing with an older man. I’m guessing her father or daddy, however you want to see it. She’s sipping on a glass of champagne with her hair in a tight bun at the nape of her neck, wearing a red dress that fits tightly, showing off every curve. She looks over in our direction, and Kashton practically falls over himself. “Goddamn…”

“Like Adam said, you can’t use your dick right now,” I remind him, grabbing his suit jacket and pulling him up a set of stairs and out of sight of the woman.

“I can jack off while I watch her fuck herself,” he adds, trying to look over his shoulder. “I can fuck her with things other than my cock. Record it and watch it over and over.”

We get to the top of the stairs and step on the platform. A private elevator is in front of us with a man dressed in an all-black tux standing at it. He looks from me to Kashton and moves to stand in front of the door, blocking our entrance.

“Name?” he requests.

“Hart,” I answer, and he checks his clipboard.

“Unzip the bag,” the man orders.

I turn to face Kashton and unzip the duffle bag he carries for me. Stacks and stacks of hundred-dollar bills is all you can see. It’s what’s underneath that matters. I zip it back up when he stands and steps out of the way. “Good luck, Mr. Hart.”

I give him a curt nod as the elevator opens, and we step inside. “This shit is heavy as fuck.” He drops the bag to his feet and starts bouncing up and down, chewing away on the gum. Not only is he horny as fuck but he’s also hyped up on energy drinks because he’s been up for over twenty-four hours. “You good?” I ask.

He nods.

The elevator dings, and the door slides open. Soft music plays as we step off into a large circular room that sits on the upper level of the yacht. I bet the view would be gorgeous during the day, but right now, all the glass just showcases the dark night.

To the left is a full bar setup with six barstools. One of the bartenders looks up at me, and I catch a faint smile at the corner of his lips.

To the right is a lounging area filled with two couches and a chair. Six TVs hang on the wall all currently displaying poker games around the world. The Lord who throws the party is a known gambler. It doesn’t matter what it is, he will bet on it. His private poker games are talked about all over the world and that was our in.

The carpet is pristine white, with rich brown and gold accents. Wealth always likes to be flashy. I’ve spent so much of my life at Carnage that I forget not everything is made out of concrete and shackles.

To my right, next to the lounging area, is a cashier. A young brunette stands behind a glass window. She looks up at me and smiles. “Are you going to play, Mr. Hart?” The security guard who checked my name and bag obviously informed them we were coming up.

“Yes,” I answer, and she looks past me, smiling at Kashton. Turning to look at him, his eyes are on her tits that are pushed up in the black corset.

“How much would you like, sir?” she asks.

“One million, please.” We’ll start there and see where it leads.

Two hours later, I’ve lost three hundred thousand. The man who sits to my right is up over a million, and the one to my left, I’m pretty sure, is having a heart attack. He’s sweating profusely and breathing heavily. He’s been sucking down drink after drink to ignore the fact he’s lost his large fortune over the past year. But it wasn’t his to lose.

He’s been digging his hole deeper and deeper for twelve months now, and he already owes a lot to someone tired of waiting. That’s why I’m here.

Gamblers get greedy. It’s never enough for them. I’m not much of a gambler, but I get it. The want for more…power, wealth, pussy. Is there such a thing as too much? I don’t think so.

The man to my right laughs as he wins another hand. “Well, boys, it was fun.” He gets up from the table, collecting his winnings, and walks off.

Another hour and he’s been too busy losing that he hasn’t been paying attention to me. My signs, my tics. He only has himself to blame.

As a Lord, we’ve been trained to lie and cheat to win. So making him believe I have three queens, with two sixes already on the table, gives me the better full house.

The room is eerily quiet as everyone watches. He takes a deep breath and tosses his cards down onto the table, folding.

I lay mine down, and he jumps to his feet, slapping his hands on the felt. “What the fuck?” he barks out. “You made me believe you had the winning hand.”

I didn’t.

Sitting back in my seat, he storms over to the bar and gets another drink. I wait for him to return. Because a desperate man is a predictable man.

Kashton still stands behind me with my duffle bag at his feet. I make no move to get up. The dealer patiently waits as he too watches the man drink down another. He knows he’s going to return and ask me to play him again. I’ve hurt his ego. Made him look like a fool in front of friends and colleagues.

“Everyone out,” he commands from the bar, and I hide my smile while taking a sip of bourbon.

Eight men usher themselves out along with two waitresses and the cashier. I push my chair back to stand, buttoning my suit jacket.

“Not you.” He points at me.

“I’m done for the evening,” I say, stepping from the table.

“One more game. Three million.” His eyes drop to my duffle bag that Kashton holds, licking his lips. He’s hungry. Desperate. He was given a deadline, and he’s past it.

I take a quick look around. Haidyn is still at the bar, eyes on me. Adam is by the exit; arms crossed over his chest and gives me a nod. He’s locked the door, and Kash remains behind me.

I reach up, rubbing my chin to contemplate if I want to play, but it’s a signal. “Alright.” I give him a nod. “One game. Three million.”

We get seated once again, and before the dealer can even touch the cards, Haidyn comes up behind him, grabs his head, and twists his neck, breaking it.

His head falls to the felt, and the guy next to me jumps up, shouting. I grab the back of his neck and slam the side of his face into the poker table, making him groan.

He goes limp and starts to fall to the floor, but Kashton helps me get him onto the table. Laying him on his back, I jump up onto the felt and straddle his stomach. Adam reaches into the duffle bag and pulls out the rope.

“What—?” The guy groans, looking around aimlessly.

Haidyn shoves a bar towel into his mouth to silence him. I’m not sure how much time we’ve got, but the clock has started, and we’ve still got three more names to cross off before we can get off this yacht.

Kashton makes quick work tying the guy’s wrists together with the rope from the bag, and then he plops down in a chair, restraining them above his head.

I rip his button-down shirt open to expose his chest to the room as Haidyn hands me a pair of serving tongs, and the guys eyes widen. “This is going to hurt.” I say before I press it to his chest and squeeze the tongs into his skin over his brand.

He throws his head back, screaming into the bar towel. Pulling the skin as hard as I can, I take a pocketknife and slice off his brand.

His body bucks and thrashes, and I squeeze him with my legs to keep him in place. “I need a bag,” I shout, and Haidyn rushes over to the bar and grabs a small baggie. Coming back, he opens it up for me and I drop the bloody piece of skin covered with the Lords crest into it.

I jump up, standing with my feet on either side of his hips. “Turn him over.”

Haidyn and Adam flip him onto his stomach while Kashton undoes the rope around his wrists. We’ve got to switch things up. Falling to my knees, I straddle his back this time and help Kashton reposition his arms behind his back and tie his wrists in place while Haidyn and Adam tie his ankles together and then to the bag.

Jumping down, I walk around where his head hangs off the edge of the blood-covered table. I yank the bar towel from his mouth, and spit flies out as he starts to shout.

“I was told to give you this.” I shove a piece of paper into his mouth, and he gags as I shove it to the back of his throat. “That’s it.” I press further, and he chokes. “Swallow it. All the way.” When I feel his throat work, I remove my hand and tap the side of his face. “Good boy.”

He’s gasping and tears run down his face. “You son of a bitch. I’ll have you killed…”

“We’re all going to die,” I tell him and shove the bar towel back into his mouth to silence him again. Haidyn hands me the duct tape, and I wrap it around his head, making sure he can’t spit out the towel. “But today is your day.”

Once he’s ready, Haidyn and I grab him while Adam grabs the dead dealer, and Kashton collects the duffle bag off the floor. We exit the sliding glass door out onto the private balcony. It’s windy and cold outside as the yacht continues farther and farther out to sea. It’s an all-night party and won’t return to the marina until morning. We’ll be long gone by then.

We lay him on a chair and connect the excess of rope around his ankles to the leather handles, securing him to the duffle bag. I had lead pipes hidden underneath the money in the bag. We needed the added weight and the bag to not look suspicious.

He’s shaking his head furiously as he screams into the tape and bar towel. “Don’t worry, I’ve included your money in the bag as well.” I smile at him.

“What are we doing with him?” Adam kicks the dead dealer.

I take my pocketknife, bend and cut the guy down his stomach and chest. Blood pours out of the now open wound and the other guy starts to gag as it bathes him in it. “Hand me another rope.” I hold my hand up to no one in particular, and Haidyn gives it to me. I wrap it around the dead guy’s neck a few times and tie it off and wrap what’s left around the other man. “The weight should hold both. And if not, I’m sure something will eat them.”

It takes all four of us to lift them both and get them over the railing to throw them into the ocean. I lean over and watch to see if they surface. It never happens. Either they sank to the bottom or the yacht sucked them under and the propellers got them. Either way, one down and three to go.

“Clean up,” Haidyn says, dropping his backpack next to us. “Onto the next.”

A Lord isn’t a coward. And only a coward would hide who they really are. A part of our point to prove is that we are untouchable. You can’t fuck with us because we fuck back. And where anyone else would end up in jail for such a crime, we’ll be walking the streets, as free men.