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1
Hustler
The nighttime air felt dank on the goose flesh covering my skin. Death surrounded me in the eerie woods. The putrid scent of blood and manure singed my nasal passages and churned my guts. My senses were heightened, something I’d only experienced during sex. Even my scalp tingled, hearing creatures in the brush and trees, an owl or maybe a raccoon.
My brothers and I were frustrated and tired after digging the graves. Two were filled. The remaining occupants were tied to a tree, gagged, and whimpering for their lives.
I grunted as I released my end of the dead weight, dialing into the heavy thud it made when it hit the ground. The muscles in my arms and shoulders spasmed violently. After the beating we’d given the double-dealing bastards, my body was tense, and my mind was chaotic. It made ignoring the sniveling bastards easy. If only my stomach stopped roiling.
During a slaughter, I had my limits. I could mindlessly beat a man to death with my fists or choke the air out of them. I was old school when it came to murdering someone. All I needed was a lead pipe, wooden bat, or a gun.
A bullet between the eyes? My preferred method.
A knife to the heart or across the throat? Messy but a great backup to the above.
Mutilating and skinning? Hard pass.
None of my brothers showed any distress when ending a life. Each one had a dark side, but not me. I didn’t get off on torturing people. Perhaps my humanity made me a pussy.
Did I give a fuck what anyone thought of me?
Sometimes.
When it came to my brothers and my old man, I couldn’t pretend like their approval meant nothing to me. Their opinions were the only ones I valued and respected.
I held back the bile inching into my esophagus. If Cobra and Bone could turn off their emotions, so could I.
Or at least I’d try.
“I need a smoke.” Bone stalked toward the truck.
I wiped the sweat off my brow, feeling hot and cold all at once. It was late August, and the low temperatures were dipping into the fifties. Winter would be here before I knew it.
But the weather had nothing to do with my internal body temp going haywire. My turn was up next to get one of our former members to talkany wayI could. Why wasn’t I doing it now? Because we’d been interrupted when Cobra’s old lady called.
Small mercies. I needed time to regroup and channel my inner psychopath.
“Karma, you shouldn’t say such things to me.” Cobra belted out a hearty chuckle despite the gore in front of us. “I’m warning you, baby.” A broad grin stretched across his face as he kicked dirt into the plot. “Yeah, me too.”
I should be focused on the dead bodies instead of the envy surging through my veins while eavesdropping on Cobra’s conversation. Their deaths had beenavoidable.They’d been warned countless times to never betray a Knight.
Had they listened?
Hell no.
The damn imbeciles thought they’d get away with making money from human trafficking. The fuckers had even worn their cuts during their dirty dealings, which was how Buff’s informant discovered them. It had taken us a while to get the proof we needed, concrete evidence before we could unleash our wrath.
“When I get home…” Cobra’s voice trailed as he turned around and whispered.
Christ, I wished I could hear what he told his woman.
Pathetic, right?
For more than a decade, I enjoyed being single and free to do whoever and whatever I wanted. I lived the life I loved to the fullest—well, loving it most of the time.
On a night like tonight, I often found myself questioning my choices. I wasn’t sure why I had kept relationships with women unemotional and refused to have an old lady.
Other than I liked not answering to anyone. I didn’t have to remember birthdays or anniversaries. I never bought flowers or candy for anyone besides Lady M and Piper. They were the only women in my life who mattered to me.
