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“Nah-ah absolutely not,” she says sternly. “Skid, I’m fine. I don’t need any of your club protection bullshit. I think I’ve more than proved that I can take care of myself… ask the bone collector to send you some pictures if you don’t believe me.” She winks at me when she catches me listening in.
I keep my head down and get to work, but I don't hit the play button. I can hear Skid arguing on the other end of the phone from all the way over here. Rogue looks me up and down as she holds the phone away from her ear. I don’t know what causes it, but I smile at her. It’s strange because actually, I can’t remember the last time I smiled at anyone.
“Fine, I'll stay at the club. But just for a few nights,” she finally agrees, shaking her head at me while rolling her pretty blue eyes.
“You need any help?” Storm asks, still looking around at the walls in bewilderment.
“Not right now, just need someone to take little Miss Massacre over there back to the club,” I point my head at her.
“Gotcha,” Storm nods, before heading over to Rogue. “Pack some shit, we leave in five,” he tells her before leaving through the front door to wait in the truck.
“Guess I’ll be seeing you around.” Rogue comes out from her bedroom a few minutes later swinging a duffel bag over her shoulder. I nod her a silent goodbye and then wait until she’s skipped out the door, slamming it behind her, before I take her pretty lace panties out of my pocket.
The delicate fabric sits between my fingers, and I give in to the compulsion to bring them to my nose and absorb the scent of her through my nostrils. She smells as sweet as fucking sin, and I wonder if she’d gotten off on taking the life of the man who I’m about to make disappear.
Then I do something really out of character and I break the most important rule of a clean-up. Slipping them back inside my pocket so I can keep them for myself. It’s the closest I’m ever gonna come to the real thing. I ignore the fact that that hurts me as I hit play on my iPod and set to work on cleaning up Rogue’s mess.
I’m pissed at Skid, and if he wasn’t going through so much shit, there’s no way I would be here riding shotgun with Storm, the new Dirty Souls Prospect.
Kicking my feet up on the dash, I rest my head back and appreciate the breeze coming through the window. Then I close my eyes and go over everything that's happened in the past few hours.
2 HOURS AGO
Tossing my plate into the sink, I lick the last traces of the sticky syrup from my fingers then snatch my jacket off the hook, ready to head out for work. I stop in shock when I fling open the door, and someone I’m not expecting is on the other side of it.
“Mornin’.” He grins at me coldly, revealing a row of gold teeth that send my stomach rolling with recollection. “You not gonna ask me in?” He stretches up on his toes to peer over my shoulder and look inside.
“No.” I smile back sarcastically.
“Is he here?” Before I can make my move, his foot wedges in the door, preventing me from slamming it in his face.
“Oh, that's right.” He acts like he’s only just remembered. “Life without parole, wasn’t it? I just got out of Pueblo county detention myself.” He takes an unwelcome step closer.
“You’ve grown up a lot since I last saw ya.” Reaching out with his finger, he slowly slides it down my cheek, and the gentleness of it makes me shudder. Eddie always did like to take it slow. He’d treat you like a delicate flower before he crushed you inside his fist.
“Do you know why I'm here, Ev—” I prevent him from continuing, my finger pressing over his lips to silence him.
“Rogue,” I correct him, and the asshole smirks at me before slipping his top lip over my fingertip. I snarl when he sucks it inside his mouth but I don’t flinch.
“Mmm sweet, just like I remember.” His smile is wicked and it seals his fate…
I step aside, allowing him to enter, and the way he reshuffles his cock as he pushes past me makes me smile to myself.
“Wait here.” I guide him over to the couch and press my hand on his shoulder until he’s seated. Thrill and hunger lurk in his eyes as he rests, and the sick son of a bitch is already stroking himself through his pants. I leave him like that and step through the hall toward my bedroom, where I quietly slide the machete out from under my bed. It’s heavy in my hand, so I let it drag behind me, my heart beating fast and spreading the adrenaline to my veins as I make my way back down the hall toward my guest.
“What you got planned for me, baby?” Eddie asks, wetting his top lip with his tongue. His dick is bulging through his pants, and I spend a few seconds wondering how long he’ll maintain that stiffy after he’s dead.
“Oh, I got somethin’ for ya, Eddie.” I speak seductively, using all my strength to lift the long heavy weapon up over my shoulder, and without a single moment's hesitation or a teeny tiny scrap of empathy, I hack a deep gash into the side of his body. His blood sprays out in all directions, warming the skin on my face and decorating my walls.
The noise he makes sends a rush of satisfaction through my spine, and I smile at the fucker as I wiggle the handle to free the blade when it gets wedged into a bone.
“Crazy fucking bitch,” he yells at me in agony, and I take a little time to admire the mess I’ve made of him, enjoying the horror turning his skin grey.
I know I haven’t got long before he passes out from the pain, so I suck all the fear from his dilated pupils before I strike again.
I don’t aim for anywhere in particular, the weapon is far too heavy for me to be accurate with, and the sharp blade ends up wedged in his shoulder. A few more inches to my left and I might have hit an artery, putting the fucker out of his misery far too soon. But that wouldn’t be justice, this guy likes to take things slow. Prolonged agony is his thing, so in my opinion, it’s the only way for him to go out.
My laughter drowns out the terror ripping from his throat.
