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Deep down, you’re as big a monster as Reaper, only he got there first.
No matter what you do, she will always be bound to Reaper.
After the third man died, the fighting was over.
Dog came into the ring and he signaled the end and for people to pay up.
Preacher wasn’t ready to stop fighting but he knew he had to hold back now. His need to spill blood was so strong. He waited as people paid their dues and left the building. One look at Dog, and he wanted to hurt him.
“I’m guessing no one has ever been stupid enough to take you on,” Dog said.
“I suggest you get ready.”
Dog smiled. “What makes you think I ever need to get ready for a blood bath? I’m always prepared.”
He started out by sparring with Dog. The other man was fast and surprisingly agile. He didn’t know why he was shocked. There was no extra information on who Dog was. Just the rumors of what he’d been born into believing. He wasn’t a real person, he was a monster, and other such shit. Thinking about it now, Dog had a bad life.
Hitting him only created a little bit of pleasure. There was no lasting relief. Being hit back, there was the kicker he wanted. The adrenaline. The pain. The need to feel something because if he didn’t, he was going home, fucking Robin until she was knocked up with his kid, and killing Bishop and Reaper. It was the least he could do after everything they’d put him through.
Robin pregnant.
Robin with Reaper’s baby.
Robin having feelings for Reaper.
It was fucking wrong.
All of a sudden, he was locked down on the ground. Dog was over him, keeping him in place.
“Get the fuck off me.”
“Not until you calm the fuck down. I mean it, Preach. Calm the fuck down. Everyone has gone home and I don’t want to kill you. You’re not dead and I get it, you fight like a fucking beast, a monster. You’re an animal and I recognize it.” Dog still didn’t let him go. “This isn’t worth dying over.”
He gritted his teet
h, angry, enraged to know it didn’t matter.
You’re better than this.
Slowly, the darkness swarming in front of his vision eased and Dog slowly took his time to let go. “I don’t need you hugging the shit out of me.”
“You can be pissed all you want. You didn’t feel how fucked up that was. The crowd went crazy. I don’t know how we’re going to top that shit.”
Dog burst out laughing. “The cleaning crew is going to have a field day.”
Preacher left the ring and went to the changing room where his jacket was, left untouched. He pulled it on, not caring as his body started to ache and hurt just like the good old days. This was one of the reasons he had to stop fighting. He had a club that needed him and he had to admit to getting too old.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“I don’t want to talk about shit,” he said. All he really wanted was to forget.
“No, you want to kill stuff, which is fine with me. What I don’t want is your ass in jail.”
“I won’t be. I’m more careful than that. Why do you think I came here?” He grabbed his keys and was about to leave.
“I can kill him for you,” Dog said. “Strictly off the table. No change of money. No hands dealt. I can kill him, make it look like a drive-by or some shit. A guy like that has a lot of enemies. All it would take is the click of my fingers and he’d be dead. You could look at your girl without worry, without guilt. It would all be on me, no one else.”
Preacher looked back at his friend and nodded his head. “But I’d still know, and I’d have to be the one to look her in the eyes when she asks me what happened. I don’t want to lie to her. She’s been through enough already.”
