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Four
Bullseye
It took us two days to hit the Tennessee state line, and the second I crossed over it, I wanted to turn around and gun it. I did not want to be here. But it wasn’t my choice. Nope, I had no choice. Reaper sent me here to do a job, and that’s exactly what I was going to do. Of course, seeing my Uncle was going to be fun. I just prayed he didn’t recognize me. I did look different from when I left several years ago. I was no longer the quiet, scrawny kid with acne. Okay, I was still quiet, but now, I was over six feet tall, muscular with tattoos all over my body. Mainly, I had no give a-fucks left for anyone except my wife and daughter.
Nope. Not even Reaper. I liked him. I really did, but I couldn’t get past what his father did to my mother. I knew it wasn’t his fault. Just like it wasn’t my fault Layla and I were born. We were just collateral damage in a war not of our making. Hell, the more I thought about it, we all were. Only most of us just didn’t know it.
The fact of the matter was, my life was a lie, and the second my truth came to pass, the world would know. It was already bad enough that my wife knew, but I would be damned to hell if anyone else found out.
That’s why I wasn’t looking forward to this trip.
I was told to meet up with the Tennessee chapter. Search the area and hunt down a man named Vincent Solara. Why I had no idea, but Reaper wanted him found and delivered directly to him alive. Of course, this also gave me the perfect opportunity to look for person number three on my list. A Mr. Malcom Wagner. Now, according to my information, Mr. Wagner was holed up in a cabin somewhere near Pigeon Forge. Too easy for me. I hunted in those woods my whole life. There was nothing I couldn’t track. Mr. Wagner was the money man. The one who made sure payment was accepted and received for the murder of my mother, and I couldn’t wait to put a bullet in his brain. Because of him, several people made a small fortune because of my mother’s death, and I wanted to know why?
That had been plaguing me of late. Why her? What did my mother know or do that was so heinous that several people wanted her dead? Of course, when I thought about it, I could have started asking before I killed that actor, or maybe even the old Prez, but in my defense, at the time, I wasn’t thinking clearly. I wanted blood spilled, and that’s what I got.
It had been almost three years since I killed the last man on my list. I never forgot about it. I could always feel the itch to find my next victim, but life got in the way. Well, mainly Kitty and then my beautiful daughter. God, I missed them. They needed me, so I put my desire for revenge aside and concentrated on them. Yet, seeing Layla in Louisiana brought everything back to the forefront, and while my family slept, I went digging and found one.
It was only a matter of time before I took off again for one of my adventures, as Kitty called them, but thanks to Reaper, I didn’t have to hide it this time.
I saw Chaos signal out of the corner of my eye, pointing to the gas station up ahead. Nodding, I followed behind him and came to a stop next to him. Cutting my engine, I got off my bike and stretched. God, it was a long drive.
Reaching for my phone, I checked to see if I had any messages, even though I knew there wouldn’t be. Kitty never texted or called while I was out on a run. Yet, I was surprised to find one from Reaper.
“You got one too,” Chaos asked, showing me the exact text.
Nodding, I said. “Yeah. Wonder what’s up?”
“You call and find out. I need to go take a leak.”
“Okay,” I replied, dialing him immediately.
“Where are you?”
“A town called Brownsville, just outside Memphis. What’s up?”
“Stay there. Me and a few of the boys are a day’s ride behind you. Get a room and wait. Text Massacre with the details.”
“Will do.” And just like that, the call ended. Thinking nothing of it, I looked around the town and saw a sign for a motel just five miles up the road. I quickly texted Massacre the info just as Chaos returned, zipping up his fly. “Fuck, I needed that.”
“Reaper wants us to stay put. He and a few of the brothers will be here tomorrow. I just texted Massacre, the name of the motel, a few miles down the road. Let’s go get us a room, shower, and eat something. I’m starving.”
“Sounds good to me.”
An hour later, I slammed the door behind me, shouting, “Fuck. Fuck. FUCK!” as I threw my bag on the bed in my motel room as I headed straight for the bathroom. This was fucking bad. I knew it. I could feel it. Something happened, and I didn’t know what. Instead of heading straight for my mark, I was stuck in a fucking hotel room on the outskirts of Memphis, Tennessee, in a town called Brownsville while I waited for Reaper and the others to arrive.
Chaos and I both had received a text while riding and stopped immediately, only to find instructions to stay put.
So, we did.
I hated waiting. I was so close to finding Layla, I could almost feel her arms around me. I could still hear her laughter, see her smile. I missed her terribly, and when I got my hands on the mother fucker who took her, I was going to put my fucking bullet between his eyes. That fucker didn’t know what he stepped into when he took her.
She was mine to protect.
Always had been, always would be.
She’d been gone for over two years now, and every passing minute made it harder for me to breathe. I didn’t know if she was hurt, starving, anything. When I caught a glimpse of her in Louisiana, I damn near had a heart attack right then and there. Then I heard her scream my name, and that was all it took. She was right there, I could see her, then she was gone. Flying high above out of my reach. I had waited too long…again.
Emerging from the bathroom, I plopped myself down on the bed, reached for the television remote, and turned the damn thing on. I needed something to distract myself from what was to come. Flipping the channels, I paid no attention to anything in particular until I saw Ghost’s face on the news. Sitting up, I turned up the television and listened.
