Page 75 of Duke

Slowly, stalking towards him, I take my coat off. I’ve never killed a man in cold blood, face to face without the fog of war clouding my head.

But I’ve been pushed to the edge. The death of my father, not having Shanna, being pulled back into the club and made Prez all because of Zach’s shit, is too much. I’m a man on fire and this time he’s the one whose gonna burn by paying for my sins along with his.

She’s called and texted a dozen times. It takes everything I have, not to answer. Ignoring her feels like taking a knife and carving out pieces of my own heart.

With a fist as hard as granite I hit his gut first, knocking the wind straight out of him with one blow. My right knee meets his face. The sound of his nose breaking doesn’t even begin to satisfy the beast in me. Grabbing him by the back of his head, I yank him up. His face becomes my punching bag.

Red haze is all I see. All I feel.

But through the mist, I see her; swaying her hips as she puts the bills soggy from beer into her tip jar. Her knowing half-grin as she looked at me over one shoulder as she poured shots.

With a sigh, I fling the half-dead man away from me.

I can’t… won’t be a murderer. If I’m ever lucky enough to make her mine—I don’t want to touch her with the hands of a cold-blooded killer.

Wiping his blood off on my jeans, I fish my phone out of my back pocket. “Christy? I got the man who forced Layla Flynn off the road.”

“… you mean Colin Flynn’s old lady?”

“Yep.”

“Christ. Is he still alive?”

“Barely.”

“Where are you?”

“At the same cabin where you found two bodies late last fall.”

“You sure you got the right guy?”

“Yep. Got his confession recorded on his phone.”

“Jesus. Get the fuck out of there and Duke…”

“Yeah?”

“Stop playing vigilante. This isn’t a Clint Eastwood movie.”

“No worries. I’m done cleaning up Zach’s shit. But if I find him first—”

“I’m gonna delete this call from my log. This conversation never happened. Now get the hell out of there and take any DNA you left with you.”

Disconnecting with a smirk, I turn to Will, “It’s time to go.”

“You sure boss? It won’t take much to finish him for good.”

I shake my head, “I’m sure. Let’s go.”

Will walks over to the man and takes out his knife. “I’m gonna cut your motherfucking tongue out if you talk. You hear me? I got people on the inside.”

The piece of shit dumbly nods his head with what energy he has left. Will cleans the doorknobs with gloved hands and bleach while I pick up the bloody rags. Christy has my back, but it doesn’t hurt to help a lady out.

We make fast work covering our tracks and jog out to the truck. “You hear back from the lab yet?”

“No. I expect it will be any day now.”

He nods. “She’s something else. It’s easy to see how a woman like that can make knots out of a man.”

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