Page 138 of Filthy Love

When the heavy weight of the Russian underling, went out from under him, his face mottled, eyes bloodshot and spit dribbling out of his mouth, Lawless was the first to move, removing the bag, he made a quick call and not two minutes later Slider strutted around the corner leaving the rig at the end of the alleyway.

“Jesus, he’s a fat one. The hell are they feeding ‘em in Russia? I thought it was all bread and vodka?”

“Hand me the cling wrap.” It wasn’t Lawless’ first time wrapping up a corpse for easy transfer from one scene to another. Hawk worked from the feet up and Law from the head down and they met in the middle, handing off the thick roll to Slider who tucked it away in his backpack. Next came the duct tape.

“Grab his feet, kid. Me and the VP will get the heavy end.”

It took three of them to move the dead mobster to their truck and toss him into the bed under the tarp with his former team mate who suffered the same fate just an hour previously. That one was even easier having found him gambling in one of RS’s own card games at the back of an Italian restaurant. They’d only needed to wait for him to stagger drunk outside to take a piss when they’d jumped him.

Both murders, too easy, hadn’t even spiked Hawk’s juices.

As he climbed into the passenger seat, Slider in the driver’s side and Lawless chose the back, he recounted back on that irony. Two sides to the same evening and both couldn’t be more polar apart.

This was his life. Nothing was gonna change with that. He did what he did not because he enjoyed it.Okay, maybe a little. But the routine and danger of their MC meant that tonight’s excursion was not the first or gonna be the last time and now he was straddling a new line with Gia and his brain was having a hard-fucking time keeping up.

It went without saying he didn’t want her to know what he was, she’d run for the hills and his addiction was finally being sated and no bastard, crazy, insane or monster would give that back when they had the taste of perfection on his tongue.

He needed to decide.

Couldn’t keep doing the same push and pull bullshit over and over and expecting Gia to go along with him. As she’d told him with her finger wagging in his face she could make her own decisions and she’d punch him in the balls if he ever tried to do something for her own good again. He believed it too. Feisty and beautiful and he wanted her with a madness chewing at his guts.

He either manned the fuck up and did what his woman needed from him or he sat down and let someone worthier of her take over.

And he’d let another man dohis jobover his dead, rotten corpse.

His phone buzzed, and he fished it out of his pocket. A smirk etched up his lips all on its own.

Gia:I missed you in bed. See you later?

She included a swarm of affectionate emojis as always.

He was gonna have a coronary through his hard dick right there in the truck with his boys watching on. But he couldn’t stop his thumbs from moving on the screen.

Hawk:Yeah, my little bit. Soon.

She’d had no clue where he’d gone to tonight and if it were up to him he wouldn’t be telling her any time soon. His first job; protect his old lady.

The thumping in his chest increased.

His old lady.

There was a direct rousing just beneath her skin, a power-driven crackle of awareness and acceptance of knowing whatever happened in the next few hours he wanted one thing and only one thing.

Decision fucking made.

It was the reason he hung around the club after they’d dumped the bodies off with the pigs up at the pen they kept high in the mountains. Those things ate everything from bones to innards, no trace of Russians would be left behind.

He took a shower to wash off the smell of death, it was closing on dawn by the time he was done, and he had another hour or so before Rider arrived for the day.

“Law said it went well.” His prez remarked when he first strode through the doors, closely followed by his old lady carrying the baby strapped to her chest. The pair kissed, Hawk averted his eyes, and he replied only when Rider’s girl had taken off down to the kitchen.

He didn’t get the sick belly roiling he once did in front of her, but he wasn’t altogether comfortable with her either.

Hawk nodded and fell in to step with Rider.

“Steele said the same. Had a call from Axel late last night.” The President of the smaller MC operation The Diablo Disciples. Not really foe but neither friend either. Rider used them only if and when, but a few months previous Axel contacted the club to put Rider in the picture about a possible snitch somewhere along the chain of command in his club because the ATF were crawling up their asses over petty shit. The RS operated on a whole other frequency to most MC’s.

No one liked theDiabloleader much. The Butcher didn’t, that was a fact seeing on how Tad poked at Axel’s barely legal baby girl and found himself beat to fuck over it a few years back. Getting with someone from another MC wasn’t the best fucking idea.

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