Page 28 of Rogue

I look to each man, dropping the cuts one by one to the floor and walking over them. The oldest of them is full on gray haired and a long beard going down to his round belly.

“Which of these three officers would you happen to be?” I ask staring the man down.

“Chaplain,” he states rolling his shoulders back as if he has some sort of power.

“How can one be a chaplain and a demon?”

He doesn’t reply.

“History lesson in case you didn’t know, Legion is a demon mentioned by name in the Holy Bible.” I explain as Havoc, Tyrant, Creed, Zero, and Pug stand behind the chairs watching me.

“Legion is many demons in one,” the chaplain adds. “We are a mighty legion. You won’t break us.”

“Break you, that isn’t my intention.” I laugh. “What kind of dumb motherfucker are you?”

“The dumb motherfucker is you to think you aren’t at war now, King!” the man with the red hair mutters before spitting on my boot.

“Well there Lucky Charms, today is not your day because the rainbow lost its fuckin’ magic. Today, you three die. You serve no purpose.”

“You need to know who hired us,” leprechaun fucker says.

I lean over in his face, he jumps slightly but tries to hide it. “No, I don’t. I already know.”

“You don’t know shit,” the third one chimes in.

“Benincio Cartagena,” I say the name and they all grow quiet. “Oh now don’t quit talking. Come on, the fun is just gettingstarted. I bet if I keep going, I know more than you do about your own fucked up situation.”

“You don’t know shit,” guy three, the youngest of them challenges.

“Well, young buck, seein’ as your elders here never taught you some shit, let me school you.”

“Oh fuck,” Tyrant says to Havoc, “he’s gonna make this kid wish his momma swallowed the night he was conceived.”

Havoc crosses his arms over his chest, “best show in town when we turn Rogue lose to play with the snakes.”

“Second favorite pastime, for me, other than fucking a bitch. Nothin’ better than watchin’ Rogue make a grown man beg.” This is Creed as he leans against the wall.

I straddle the young one’s chair. His hands are tied behind his back, his legs each tied to the bottom, he can’t move other than his head. As expected, once I got close enough he throws his head back.

I catch his forehead and push back, hyperextending his neck until he begins to tremble. “You’re cute. Your head ain’t hard enough to do damage to my balls. All you will do is make my cock think someone wants to play. You wanna suck my cock, young buck?”

He doesn’t reply and his other two brothers simply sit and stare. I push back against his forehead before stepping back and releasing his head. He rolls his neck no doubt in agony from the stretch.

“When you took the oath, served your shit duties, you vowed to your club,” I begin pacing in front of them. “Brothers above all others. This lifestyle ain’t for pussies. It’s about respect. You roll in another club’s territory, you give a call out.”

I stop in front of young buck. “You ain’t here because you took a job, you knuckle-headed fool. You’re here because your entire club is a bunch of disrespectful pricks. One call, hey, tooka job, gonna ride through. Couldn’t fuckin’ find the balls to do that.”

He shakes his head in front of me.

“Oh I see, your boys are scared of a fuckin’ sicario. Benny boy ain’t shit compared to the Kings. You started war.” Reaching in my back pocket I retrieve my switchblade and pop it open. “Respect above anything in this life, you ever learn that young buck?”

He doesn’t speak as I hear the trickle of water hitting the concrete floor.

“Damn, he pissed his pants faster than anyone you ever fucked with before, Rogue,” Creed tells me pulling out a joint and lighting it. “I’m a little disappointed.”

I look to my brother, then to the man in front of me. He’s maybe twenty-five. And he has indeed peed all over himself and my floor. “It’s a shame. Coulda had a good life, if you had a man teach you how things work in a man’s world. Maybe Satan will personally greet you in Hell. I’ll see you there one day, but today it’s simply my job to send you there.” With that I jab the knife right into the artery of his neck and pull out. He opens and closes his mouth without words as the shock hits him. Blood squirts from his neck over to his neighbor.

“You’re a little older, little wiser,” I say standing in front of the man. “Did your daddy never teach you don’t walk on another man’s grass? That’s what they got sidewalks for.”

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