Page 50 of Bastard

Home Run winced. “If they can’t stop Knife they’ll never get done. He’s making more work.”

Fuck the devil. “You got this?” I dropped my shovel and bucket.

“Yep. You need backup?”

I didn’t want it, but he was probably right. “Yes.”

I was so pissed off we were here again, with yet another sadistic murderer, just fighting to survive. Even when we all agreed on what needed to be done, someone like Knife got a little too excited to stay on task.

Home Run was right. There was blood all over the gravel. Dozens of bodies still littered the ground. And fifty yards away near the trees, most of the Chubbies were watching Knife dismember a body.

Watching.

Laughing and watching.

Sick fucks.

I marched right up, my gun in hand, and didn’t stop until I had the muzzle on his temple. “Fucking stop. What the hell are you idiots doing? Clean up and get back home.”

Knife was covered in blood. Not like it wound up there over the course of the night. Like he carefully painted his skin with the blood of the dead. His eyes were black and wild as they looked up at me. “I could cut you next.”

“I could put you out of your misery.”

And then I felt a gun pressed to the back of my own skull. “If you kill him, I’ll kill you, son.”

Todd. Todd and his pet. Of course this was his circus. “If you want to watch this sick fuck play with bodies, do it on your time. We have a job to finish.”

“Jealous, son? That I have a new Hand actually willing to kill for the club?”

He had to be fucking kidding me. “What the hell do you think I did tonight?” I stepped away from Knife, letting my gun fall to my side.

Todd shook his head, somehow looking down at me even though he was shorter. “Your focus is on your other job. On your slut. That’s why we had to do this in the first place. The other clubs aren’t scared of you anymore.”

Well that was bullshit. But Todd was on a roll, rewriting reality to fit something that he preferred. “Yes. Tonight was because of complications on my side of things. Those same complications are funneling massive amounts of cash into the club. If you really think I’m not scary enough, fine. I’ll walk and take all my money with me. You and Knife can run things.”

“Cut the bastard loose already,” Spades sneered.

Todd stared me down. It was brief, but there was doubt inside him somewhere. Todd only stared when he was thinking and if he were thinking then he wasn’t quite so Knife and the Chubbies plan to get rid of me.

Because that was definitely the plan. The Chubbies never wanted me here. They only put up with me because I was fun to kick around. But then I turned the tables and was suddenly in Todd’s good graces. They were stuck with me.

Knife got to his feet. “We should fight. You and me, bastard. Prove to Savage which of us belongs at his side.” He smeared more blood across his face as he tried to wipe it away. In all my years of club life, all the men I killed, I had never encountered anyone like Knife.

Riddick laughed somewhere behind me. “We don’t have time for this shit. You want Knife doing your dirty work? Fine. Just say it so we can get back to work.”

I lifted my eyebrows in question. What do you really want, Savage? Chaos or control?

“Fuck this shit,” Todd spit. “It’s a waste of time. Clean the site!”

Knife licked his blade, eyeing me the whole time. It was supposed to be a challenge. He wanted to scare me and let me know he was coming for me.

But I didn’t care. So it really didn’t mean anything at all.

By dawn the dead were fed to the swamp, the ground rinsed or taken care of chemically, and the survivors left bound on the edge of the swamp for their respective clubs to find before nature took care of them. It was a message that should remind everyone to leave us alone, but who knew if they’d be smart enough to stop.

All I knew was that if Agent Steel didn’t arrest Todd soon, I was going to have to fight Knife or lose my place.

21

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