Page 40 of Law Maker

Justice was paid and he moved on without much fanfare.

For months he searched, in between his regular duties outsmarting thebratvaoperation.

Seriously, it was Christmas every day for Lawless and he usually hated that whole holiday.

When the net was cast further afield, he dug in deep with every spare hour he could to the point of exhaustion.

The compulsion biting through his head.

He couldn’t explain why.

Why the fuck would he want to?

He was taking scum off the street.

Where washisstatue?

Lawless was no Batman, but he dug his ride.

There was no valid reason why he kept it a secret, even from Snake.

The boys would have probably helped out, lessened his load.

He had no justification for taking it as a personal vendetta.

After the first kill, Lawless caught the bug.

Theneedto finish it.

Not even for a day or a month did he let up.

Fighting the Russians. Outwitting those morons at every turn. Swindling info from the inept accountant by fucking him and his Mrs. Seeing Snake get married. Attending Reaper’s second marriage. And celebrating with his boys when they had kids. Through it all, Lawless didn’t waver in his task.

It took him to Tennessee, Boston, New York and even Florida.

The selling ring, as he discovered, was colossal.

Hades was simply the buyer and therefore, he’d been a small rat in the big food chain.

The men he tracked and eventually ended their breathing, were the real deal. But it was taking some time to find the head of the beast, even Lawless grew frustrated sometimes when leads came to nothing.

But he was growing closer. He felt it. And because he was getting to that end, he’d made some enemies along the way.

Who knew perverts selling kids and women to other depraved perverts would take offense to being killed.

More often than not, he had to stop on the way home to Colorado and rest up in a motel. His body needing time to heal if the work took a turn for the worst.

He was bruised and hurting but still breathing so he continued.

There was no big mystery of why Lawless was the way he is. Many had tried to psychoanalyze him; he could have told them for free they were wasting their time.

Bags of stupid meat believing they could peek beneath his skin and find all the answers.

He simply lived like he was dying.

It was a Friday. Food smells drifted through the clubhouse as he trekked in at midday. Which meant some of the groupies were here early. Feed a biker, then fuck a biker, they knew the priorities.

He wasn’t interested and he didn’t look at anyone as he walked down to Rider’s office. One knock got him invited in.

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