AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Chapter Three
Psycho
Last orders were called ten minutes ago. The guy I’m watching is halfway through his pint and has yet to notice I’ve had my sights on him for the last two hours.
The dickhead has no idea what’s coming for him. I don’t know the ins and outs of how he pissed off the people who are paying me to make him hurt, and I don’t ask. But I’m being paid double my fee to make him hurt so bad, he’ll never walk again, so it can’t be anything good.
My phone vibrates in my pocket, and I dig it out to see it’s my sister calling. Her secret phone cost me five hundred pounds and handing out a favour to get it smuggled into the prison to her, but it was worth every penny.
Answering her call, her voice is low when she asks, “Can you talk?”
“Yeah. What did you find out?”
Evie Hemingway. I’ve been waiting all day for this call. She’s been in my head since I left the prison, and I can’t shake her. I need to hear this information about her like I need air to breathe.
“She has a young son called Thomas. She’s single, and the boy’s dad is dead. Some sort of car accident or something. I made her a friend, and now, I want to know what you’re up to, Louis.”
My sister is the only one in the world I let call me by my birth name and get away with it. To every dickhead on this planet, including my club brothers, I’m Psycho.
“What I’m going to do is my business. She’s the prettiest woman I’ve ever seen, you hear me?”
She sighs. “Don’t go obsessing over her, you hear me?”
I choose to ignore her. I don’t fucking obsess over anyone. “Look out for her, and I’ll talk to you soon.”
I end the call and slide the phone into my pocket.
“You lonely?”
Blinking, I look over at the redhead sitting her arse down beside me and arch my brow.
“Do I look lonely?”
“You’re sitting alone,” she points out stupidly.
“Doesn’t mean I’m lonely.” Throwing back the last of my beer, I slam the now empty pint glass onto the table and watch my mark get up from his table across the pub.
“Fuck off.”
The tart huffs and puffs, hauling her saggy arse over to the bar. I head out, not interested in spending the night with her. Not many women get my attention, but the sad and angry Evie Hemingway has most definitely caught it. If I had the chance to spend the night with her, I wouldn’t be telling her to fuck off. I only saw a little of her, but what I did see, I liked… a lot.
I watch my mark drive off in his very expensive Range Rover. Every evening, he turns up at the pub around 10 PM, and leaves around midnight. I’ve got that part of his routine locked down. When I go after a target, I take my time learning everything there is to know about them. Like my mark, Evie has no idea what’s coming for her. And also, like my mark, I’m certainly looking forward to meeting her face-to-face.
Lighting a cigarette, I head over to the car I bought last week and head for the club.
The sun is bright over Eastford today, but there’s little warmth. Typical British weather. The brothers are fucking around, and I’m bored. It’s never good when I’m bored.
Making myself comfortable at one of the picnic tables, I light a cigarette and close my eyes. If you listen hard enough, you can hear the ocean’s waves crashing off in the distance. But when I open my eyes, I’m at the club, in all its red bricked glory and metal fencing surrounding us.
Glancing over to the garages, I see Mayhem working on a custom job, while Riot chats animatedly to him. This is home, and I wouldn’t change it. Being settled on the edge of town, no one has any reason to come out here. And if they do, I take care of them. They rarely return. As the club’s enforcer, it’s my job to keep shit safe around here.
One of the prospects, Killa, ambles by. Just the sight of him annoys the shit out of me, because he’s got too much of a cocksure attitude. And while having an attitude can get you certain places, his will only put him into an early grave if I have anything to do with it. An unmarked grave at that, and one I’d happily dig. He struts around here like he’s already patched in, and I decide I’ve had enough.
“Prospect!”
All three look over, but I’m staring solely at Killa. He saunters over, and the urge to smash my fist into his face creeps over me, causing violent tingles to prickle up and down my spine.
“What do you need, Psycho?”
