Page 54 of Bear

CHAPTER TWENTY

Bear

We watch the warehousefor what feels like an eternity. Eventually, a punk-ass kid with a mohawk exits the building followed by three other men. The last is a fat fuck I recognize from the little snuff film he posted to the Porn Kings’ OnlyFans account. They stand around shooting the shit and after a few minutes, the other three Bastards start their bikes and ride off, probably heading out to sell some drugs to kids on the streets. Bobby Ray’s killer turns and heads back inside, but not before I notice the President patch on his cut.Fuck.

I look at the boys. “None of you need to set foot in that warehouse.”

“I told you I had your back, brother. We’re going in,” Crow says.

“How do you want to handle this?” Ruin asks.

“Take out anyone you see, but the prez is mine.”

“Got it.” Crow nods.

We leave the tree line and cross the parking lot, sticking to the shadows as much as possible. Two prospects are protecting the perimeter, but they should be easy pickings. I tell Ruin and Sterling pair off and take the main entrance so they can deal with the prospects, but Saint, Crow, and I come in through the back.

The fat shit is sitting on a worn couch facing away from us, a naked female on her knees in front of him as her mouth bobs up and down on his shrimp dick. The woman’s eyes widen, and she shrieks as her gaze locks with mine. I press my gloved finger to my lips but the ugly fuck shoves her out of the way and reaches for his gun on the coffee table beside him. I shoot, lodging a bullet in the center of his hand. Blood, meat, and shattered bones spew out around the wound.

The woman screams and tries to flee, but I point the gun at her. “Don’t fucking move.”

The prez doesn’t give me the satisfaction of screaming, which means I’m not doing my job correctly.

“Fuck you,” he coughs, and the way this fucker’s lungs sound, he’s not long for this world as it is.

“This your ol’ man?” I ask the whore.

“No.” She shakes her head manically. “I’m just getting paid by the hour, I swear.”

I cock a brow. “He pay you yet?”

Her voice is a mousy little thing as she admits, “No.”

“Bitch, didn’t your pimp teach you anything? Get the goddamn money first.”

“I-I’m new. Only been doing it a few days.”

Saint cringes. “Jesus, and this fat fuck is your first customer? You need a new line of work, sweetheart.”

She nods, but she’s shaking so hard it could just be a byproduct of her nerves. I point the gun back at the prez. “Give the bitch her money.”

“Eat my dick,” he spits.

I cock the pistol, pull the trigger, and shoot his dick instead. That finally earns a scream from him, and I gotta give it to the bastard—those lungs surprise the shit outta me. Crow takes the wallet from the makeshift table and pulls a wad of bills free, handing them all to the whore. “Here ya go, darlin’. You never saw us.”

She takes them with a shaking hand and stoops to pick up her flimsy dress. In a heartbeat she throws it on, tucks the money in her cleavage, and flees.

“You fuckin’, asshole,” he screams, his hands shaking with shock. “I’m gonna kill you, and then I’m gonna go after your little purple-haired bitch and rape her with my knife, and then I’m gonna have all of my boys do it while the rest of her brothers watch.”

I pull the trigger and I keep going until the magazine is empty, and the only sounds in the room are soft metal clicks, the roar of blood in my ears, and the Bayou Bastards’ president taking his last wheezing breath.

“Shit,” Saint whispers. “Remind me never to even look in Jupiter’s direction again.”

Crow pulls a canvas sheet from a shelving unit beside him. It’s lined with brick after brick of plastic-wrapped packages. A low whistle escapes him. “That’s a lot of drugs.”

He takes one out and spears it with his knife. White powder plumes from the brick. He scoops a little on his blade and tastes it. “It’s pure.”

Sterling pops his head in the wide double doors. “Naw, shit. You killed him already?”

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