Cowards.
“You have a rat and thief amongst you. Let’s clean this club up!”
I pull the gun from the back of my jeans.
“On your knees. Bic, get those cuts off them. They don’t deserve to wear that. They aren’t family,” I growl. I watch Bic pull the cuts off the rat bastards before stepping back next to me.
“You picked your own fate.” I fire two shots into the backs of their heads. I watch as the blood sprays out of them and they fall to the floor.
The room is silent when Gary speaks.
“We clean this mess up. We move the fuck forward and we sure as fuck don’t fuck this club over!”
The guys don’t know what to do or say. This has never happened at this chapter. A part of me respects the hell out of that. Gary has run his chapter with an iron fist. He’s a good man who takes pride in his club.
“You good, brother?” Gary turns his attention to me.
I nod once. Am I ok? Killing is easy, but not being able to slide my fingers through that sweet crimson is harder than I thought it would be. I want to touch it. I want to write my name on the fucking walls with it, but this isn’t the time or place.
“Hell yeah, I am. Your club’s clean once again. That was the goal, yeah?” I pull my gaze from the blood using all the strength I have. I meet Gary’s eyes as he nods.
“You’re right. Let’s get you some beer and pussy,” he laughs. He throws his arm over my shoulder and leads me out the side door.
I didn’t notice when we pulled in but all the club whores are out here grilling and filling coolers of beer. It would be nice to just bend one of them over and take them the way I want, but in my mind, I know it won’t be enough. It will never be enough.
“Take what you want, brother.” Gary nods toward the girls and the beer. I opt for the latter.
I know control is something I need to gain. For the most part I can control it, but when I kill and I see that blood flow, my control wavers.
I feel like a kid. You know when you’re younger and you cry for your mom to buy you a new toy but she puts it back on the shelf? That’s how I feel. I’m torn. I want it. I know I can get it but when is the wrong time? I pop the cap off my beer and take a long pull before sitting in one of the lawn chairs. I cross my legs at the ankle and take in the party.
“You’re new around here.” I hear a sweet voice over my shoulder. I turn my head and look up at the purple-haired girl as she chews on her lip.
I trail my eyes up and down her body before I reply, “You wouldn’t last ten minutes.” I turn back to take in the party. I don’t miss her huff. I don’t give a shit either. I’d break her in half. I couldn’t touch her if I wanted to. She has the same color eyes as Tara and those eyes haunt me every damn night.
“How’s Demon?” Gary sits next to me.
“He’s good. We have a gun shipment comin’ in this week. Not much in the way of wars,” I tell him.
He nods his head before he says, “That’s always a good thing.”
“Heard that. After the hell, you guys were havin’ I’m glad our shit is runnin’ smoothly. Shit can get outta hand quickly.” Gary nods taking a drink of his own beer.
“We were talkin’ about a ride up north. Thought we could get all the clubs involved. Just a break from life,” he says. I nod my head. That would be fun for the others. Not so much for me.
“Yeah, get with Demon. I’m sure he’d be up for it after we get these shipments handled.” I take down the rest of my beer as we sit in a comfortable silence.
As good as it feels to get out for a while, I want to get back. I want to figure out a plan to get Evie and I want it as soon as fucking possible.
Chapter 6
The ride back home was quiet. Being back isn’t all I had hoped. I’ve been so fucking busy with club shit that I haven’t even seen Evie. I want to, though. More than I should.
“Look at this shit!” Demon snaps. I glance over to see what he’s bitching about.
“Who did that shit?” I ask with a smile on my face. Whoever was cutting that coke up sure as hell did a shit job at it.
“Fuckin’ prospect,” he yells.
I chuckle but it isn’t all that funny. I’m the one who’s going to have to fix that shit. I shake my head and finish cutting what’s in front of me. We used to let the girls do this shit, but then they started snorting more than they cut. It was a fucking waste of time and money.
“You ever get tired of this shit, Drake?” Demon asks running his hand through his hair. I watch him intently wondering where he’s going with this.
“With cuttin’ this shit or everything?” His eyes meet mine and I can see the tiredness in them.
“All of it. You ever think we’re gettin’ too old?” I chuckle, shaking my head.
“Sometimes, brother. Then I look at the younger guys and I know shit would never get done. They are too into the partyin’ and shit to handle things the way we do. We’re the fuckin’ founders of this shit.” I turn back to cut more.
“Yeah, you’re right. I mean, fuck! Look what the goddamn prospects did to this shit,” he laughs.
“They are so used to buyin’ that shit off the street already done for them. We need to have some coke cuttin’ classes for these motherfuckers.” I smile as I continue working.
“Heard that! You see that dumbass Trigger tryin’ to roll a blunt? I swear to fuck, brother, I was fuckin’ nine when I rolled my first one.”
I lean back in my chair and glance over at Demon.
“You really are tired of this shit,” I say. Not as a question because I see the look in his eyes.
“Yeah. It’s not like it used to be. You remember back in the day when shit was easy? We’d fuck. We’d smoke. We’d party. There weren’t so many turf wars. We rolled where we wanted.”
I watch him talk remembering those days. They were a long fucking time ago too.
“Things change, brother. We adapt. We make bigger moves. We make bigger plans. I get it, though. It was easier back then.” He nods his head just as Bic walks into the room.
“Phone call, Demon,” he announces but his eyes linger on mine. That motherfucker is really pushing my buttons. Demon sighs before getting up and walking out of the room. Bic stays, eyeing me.
“Say it, Bic.”
“You like to kill, yeah?”
What the hell?
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I stand from my chair, crossing my arms over my chest.
“Means shit. I’m just askin’.” He mimics my stance, his arms over his chest.
“I need your help with somethin’,” he says.
Now that has my interest since when does this motherfucker ask for help?
“What’s that?”
“My sister’s man, he beats her. She was pregnant this last round.” His eyes look haunted but I know that’s not the only reason he’s asking me for help. There’s more.
“And?”
“What the fuck you mean, and? Ain’t that enough?” I shake my head as I walk toward him.
“You been on my ass for a while now, Bic. What the fuck do you know about me?” I push him for answers. He has to know something.