Page 11 of Law Maker

No one in this world gave a shit so you had to give the most shit to live.

And Penn lived.

He lived wild and free. And he thrived in the same streets that tried to swallow him up when he was little more than a maggot spat out of his momma.

His first lover was an older man who taught a teenage Penn the ways of a dominant. Treating everyone like they were meat, to chew up then discard.

His second lover was a girl. The boy with no name decided he liked having sex with both. So he indulged until he gorged himself on the only thing that made him feel human.

There were times fights found him when punks thought they could rip him off.

He took care of his nana. Made sure she had her bills paid on time, bought her food and cigs, sometimes the green for her arthritic pain. Until she croaked it one winter and that was his last tie to a world he hated. He didn’t know if he felt love, but he’d miss that crotchety old bitch.

There were scores to settle in Ohio.

A mother to ignore and uncles to kill. He started with Sheamus.

He didn’t leave immediately as he should have.

Penn wished he had, because that summer he met Jay.

THREE

“I made the Law.” – Jay

“You’re a lawless little shit, aren’t you?”

Penn blinked stunned.

Not because the hot guy with a stranglehold on Penn’s collar spoke with a villainous voice. He wore a gray suit and expensive watch at his wrist like power dripping off him.

Penn never got caught.

All his stealing and conning, he wasneverapprehended.

Until he’d tried to swipe this guy’s wallet in a crowded bar for shits and giggles.

Boredom didn’t suit Penn.

His mind was a constant hub of noise and if he didn’t occupy his hands with things then he tended to look for trouble. Cops harassed him a lot because of who he was and where he came from.Fucking meat with their badges and over-inflated egos. Swaggering their hero complex, thought he was nothing with the stamp of trailer trash on his skin.

Jay Benz had an unbreakable grip on Penn.

Looking at him eye-to-eye through a gaze made of pure steel.

So this was what mistakes felt like.

He’d wondered about that.

Seems he’d made his first.

Having not seen the fella from the front, he didn’t know it was the feared crime boss of the Midwest.

He was too busy assessing the fact that some fool had his hands all over him.

He didn’t allow unsolicited touching; it was so unnecessary.

Some would say Penn was OCD. Maybe he’d self-diagnosed.Whatever. He liked things a certain way. Clean clothes, a fresh bed. Not to have bugs crawling on his fucking skin in the middle of the night. Never drinking out of dirty glasses. And not allowing people to touch him unless he wanted to be fucking touched.

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