Chapter Forty-two
By the time Amy got to her feet, Butch was limp in the arms of his men and babbling incoherently like a two-year-old. Tyson tucked his severed genitals into his shirt pocket. “Here you go, Butch. Thanks for your cooperation. The women will sleep better tonight knowing where your c**k is. You men take him back to your quarters, all of you. Go. You’ll be locked in and I’ll be on the door later. And don’t f**k with me. If I see anyone of you outside on the gantry, I’ll send a load of buckshot your way. Smoke in your compartments and try not to burn the place down. Now get!”
Butch had lost all sense of actuality and had to carried out. Blood was pumping from the open wound but no one seemed interested in holding a towel between his legs to stem the flow.
Once the last man
