Page 39 of Law Maker

He’d do this.

He’d finish it for her.

Of course, he’d murdered people before. What was he, Saint dickhead of Denver? But it would be the first time he put it down as a plan. It would be the first time he strategically went about hunting and gathering the naughty maggots before he ended their tyranny of pain.

There was a chain of command.

It didn’t start with Hades, only ended with that jerk off.

It began somewhere else and Lawless would find them.

He wasn’t a trained tracker like Grinder who hunted people for a living. And he wouldn’t involve the boys.

Somehow he felt exposed to the elements, recognizing he was doing this.

He kept his secret close to that place that was burning.

That fucking ulcer probably.

Murder.

Retribution.

Closure.

Peace.

He was a stone cold… frigid… killer.

This was no skin off his nose.

She was a kid who thanked him for potato chips, for fucks sake.

He’d get her closure and she’d have nothing to thank him or anyone else for ever again. Because to his mind—the one that was wired all wrong, with the neurons firing off in different frequencies—she would have a fresh start in life.

Murder, as he knew, was cathartic in many ways.

It started the very next day.

But he had no idea as he took on an impossible endeavor, where it would lead him.

Lawless was no fucking quitter.

Crazy? Oh, yeah, maybe a touch of madness stung his psyche.

But then, all the best psychos were.

Knowing darkness like the back of his hand was no big deal to him.

He forever trudged through it.

ACT III

TEN

“I’ll take a burrito and a corpse to go.” - Lawless

The first handful of degenerates were relatively easy to find when Lawless put his mind to it.

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